“There’s a difference between interest and commitment. When you’re interested in doing something, you do it only when circumstances permit. When you’re committed to something, you accept no excuses, only results…”
After a long summer filled with remodeling projects, my running has been put on hold since the end of May. I have missed the discomfort of sore muscles and aching feet. I have not missed the ever creeping expansion of my waist band from my lack of sustained exercise. So with the advent of cooler temps outdoors, I have decided that it is time to regain my sense of accomplishment and just do it-again… Commitment has always been a problem for me. Maybe it stems from some mental defect I have, but to commit means to obligate myself; my commitments mean to complete in its entirety. Therefore, I pick and choose my commitments cautiously. I will not commit to just any old thing, person or event just for the sake of saying yes. So with that said, I have decided that I am going to train for a half marathon. 13.1 miles of running! I know that in the times to come I am going to question that commitment, but I made it- so now I am going to have to see it thru. The good times, the bad times and all that comes in between. I will get psyched for it- I will create my happy place- I will succeed... My end goal is to prepare for this in time to run in the Las Vegas Rock and Roll Series by December 5th. The time limits are that the half marathon must be completed within 4 hours. This averages an 18.32 minute mile pace. Hopefully I can do this (or better) if I train hard between now and then. Even though I feel that I will be starting over again from scratch- I will tie on my running shoes, pull up my compression socks, slip on my running shorts and shirt and hit the pavement; Running the path of self discovery and success. Stay tuned for my journey notes, they should prove to me quite interesting...
This past Saturday my daughter ran in the 2010 Country Music ½ Marathon Race in Nashville, Tennessee. We left home on Friday and drove up in order to get to the expo early and pick up her race packet. Our thinking was that being there in the morning as they opened we would beat most of the crowd. We were partially right. We may have beat some of the crowd but there were still thousands already there waiting before it even opened. We waited in lines just to get onto the escalators to go to the lower levels. It felt like we were cattle being herded to loading shoots.
This being the fourth leg of the 2010 Rock and Roll Marathon series, there were over 35,000 runners signed up to run including the YMCA’s kids marathon held on Friday. Almost 31,000 finished the full and half marathons. Multiply this with most people having additional family and friends with them to cheer them on and it was staggering.
The earlier race series were run in Arizona in January with over 27,000 finishers, New Orleans in February with almost 13,000 finishers, and Dallas, Texas in March with almost 9,500 finishers. Some of these races included half marathons, full marathons, 50K’s and 2 person relays. These are really big deals in the towns where they are held. In Nashville alone I read that they expected a minimum of 40 million dollars of revenue to be generated from this event alone. That’s astounding!
The Expo
Once we finally arrived at the entrance door to the expo at the Nashville Convention Center, we were directed to the registration lines. These were set up by whichever corral you had been assigned to at the start line according to your expected finish time. This was a time that you had predicted yourself based on your pace in previous races and training runs. As it were, we were sent to coral 9. The longer lines seemed to be at the higher numbers, so we were able to get to the counter fairly quickly.
Once my daughter gave her name, the man behind the packet pickup counter searched his box for her packet. She had to produce a driver’s license to verify her identity as no one else could pick up her packet for her. Once he saw where we were from, he kind of smirked and said “Hmmph! You guys came up here to run in our race. Don’t you have your own ones to run in?” We just looked at each other and tried to decipher if he was really serious. As he looked through his box he continued to mumble some incomprehensible nonsense. I jokingly offered to him that we often welcomed people from Tennessee in our races and were always happy to take their money so we figured Tennessee would like to receive some of ours back. He just ignored my comments and gave us our packet explaining where to go to get her t-shirt and how to change corrals. After taking the packet and proceeding on, we were feeling a little uneasy about the exchange we’d just had. Surely we told ourselves; in this day and age the “feuds” between states no longer existed.
After making a quick corral change to coral 8 to be able to run with a friend, we moved on to the t-shirt pickup and into the first section before actually entering the expo exhibits. Brooks Running Apparel had everything imaginable for sale. Not hugely discounted but if you looked hard enough you could find a deal or two. Limited in their sizes on t-shirts, but had some very friendly sales people. Their checkout counters were very well organized to handle the huge volume of customers there. After making a few purchases, we moved into the actual expo arena.
Holy Crowds! Dozens of vendors had been set up, each hawking whatever product they represented. It was an athlete’s dream. From shirts to shoes to hair implements to performance enhancing supplements. There were watches and bracelets to compression socks and quilts. It was off the wall! Publix was the mother lode. They were giving away food samples, noise makers and banners for the spectators to cheer on their loved ones.
We made our way to the line for the will call ticket booth for the concert that was to follow the awards ceremony that night. The lady there asked for the name and a photo ID. Again with the comments about being from another state. What the heck? I know for a fact that there were people from all over the United States running in this race. Even some international participants; so what gives? Was it just our state? Then when we walked away, I looked back and caught them giving us the stink eye. Good grief! Just smile and move on….
After spending quite some time at the expo, we finally made our way to the exit. Now it was on to the hotel. Our GPS gave us great directions; straight through industrial park and through the seedier part of the city. I don’t mind saying I was a little nervous about this hotel we had booked online.
However, once we arrived I was very pleased with our accommodations and location at the Radisson. It was out by the airport with eating establishments within walking distance. The check in was painless and pleasant. They even gave us vouchers for several complimentary meals in their restaurant. Very nice touch indeed and one that we took advantage of. The room was nice and clean and comfortable with a good view. They even made special arrangements for their guests to provide a shuttle bus to the starting line near the Parthenon in Centennial Park and from the finish line later at LP Field. This was wonderful since the tickets for the events shuttles were sold out already on Friday. Believe me the $20 that we paid was well worth the round trip afterwards. Especially after seeing the nightmare of parking at the event and the fact that the bus was waiting on us at the curb when it was over. Sweet! The shuttle bus concierge was sp pleasant and accommodating. He welcomed us-even if we were from another state!
Early Departure
The morning of the race was so exciting and at times overwhelming. The bus ride over to Centennial Park included people from Ohio and Boston. It was a first from the ones from Boston. They were nervous and anxious. We arrived at about 5:30 AM for the 7:00 AM start time. Thank goodness we did, because they moved the start time up because of the impending bad weather. That maneuver turned out to be a blessing and a curse for some.
Due to the nightmare of parking that many people and then gear drop offs that were across the park from the start line, if you weren’t there early you didn’t know about the start time change. Many of those that were in the earlier corrals didn’t get to start at their assigned times and had to jump in wherever. This turned out to be bad for those whose times were faster and had to fight past the slower runners.
The earlier start was good because it allowed most of the runners to be finished before the rain started. However, they had also implemented a cutoff time for the marathon runners to reach the halfway point before they were diverted to the half marathon course. Then because they felt the weather was an issue, the race officials cut the marathon course short and sent the marathoners to the finish line at 22 miles instead of 26. This was devastating to some who were trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon. This action knocked some out of the running completely. Very disappointing for them.
The Finish Line
My daughter finished with a personal record in her now worn out Brooks Glycerin running shoes. Unfortunately due to the sheer number of runners, I missed seeing her at the finish line, as well as everyone else I was there to support. Crap! But we were able to get pictures afterwards. It was scary though watching some of the runners literally being dragged across the finish line nearly unconscious. Sadly, we later learned that one of those runners actually died from cardiac arrest. Now that is truly frightening.
The girls were exhausted and hurting but exhilarated. A day well spent and one filled with lasting memories. The death aside, I must say the overall experience was something that I would have never wanted to miss. Taking just one more leg of this fabulous journey that we have chosen to embark upon.
The bus ride back to the Radisson included runners from Tennessee and Kentucky and some ladies from parts unknown. Our “Chatty Cathy” rider from Texas entertained us with his exhilaration and enthusiasm. The ride only took about 15 minutes but it was a nice finish to a well spent morning. However, there were a couple of speed bumps along the way back.
Crap Happens
One of the runners was nauseous and was giving it her best not to hurl over everyone aboard. Thankfully she waited until we made it back to the hotel. Unfortunately, another one of the riders had experienced what has to be the most humiliating things that could happen: runners trots. Oh Lordy! She had crapped herself and as we sat on the bus for a good twenty minutes before we left LP Field and another 15 minutes to the hotel, it got a little dicey. As we disembarked the bus and made our way to the lobby, it was painfully obvious what had happened. She had tried to cover it up with her jacket only to have it seep through. I just hate to think about the next group to ride that bus. Ugh! As we entered the elevators, some innocent bystander made a comment about something stinking. I wanted to crawl under the rug. I have definitely decided that the day something like this ever happens to me will be the day I give up running.....
Retail Therapy
After a well deserved nap and the passing of some ugly thunderstorms that spawned a few tornadoes, we decided to visit the Opry Mills Outlet Mall. We enjoyed the visit but quickly realized we were too exhausted to last very long. So after an hour or so we returned to the hotel, called it a night and retired to a deep sleep. The next day we had a noon check out and took full advantage of it. We packed up and headed home just in time to stop along the way to visit the Franklin Street Festival. Another adventure to blog about.
What a fabulous time we had! Next weekend it is a Run Through The Roses 10K run in Huntsville, Alabama.
Ok, so by now I should feel like a pro on this 5K stuff right? Saturday I ran my third 5K. I was feeling like I should be ready for this without any problems. After all, I have already run two previous ones. This was at my hometown where I grew up. I knew the roads intimately. This should be a cinch. Wrong!
While my nerves on race morning were a little bit better controlled, I still felt a strong sense of self doubt. Touted as a flat and fast course that would allow you to improve your personal record, I signed up for this one thinking “Alright! I got this!”
However, once I arrived I saw that a smaller field of participants meant that the likelihood of me being at the back of the pack was higher. The majority of these runners looked very seasoned and younger than me. As I see it younger usually means faster. Oh well, nothing ventured nothing gained.
My goal for the day was to first finish the race; second improve my personal record; and third not to come in last. As I relayed those goals to a friend who was running his second 5K, he told me that my goals were way too low. I should strive to WIN! As we lined up at the start line, I hung back. He came back to me and told me that I was taking a defeatist attitude by not lining up on the front; that positive thinking would make me run better and faster. I told him that I was just being a realist and letting the faster runners get a better start.
Then the horn blew and we were off. My friends and daughter rocketed across the start line to set the pace. I ran about a quarter of a mile and had to walk. What the HECK was going on with my body? My legs felt like mush and I couldn’t seem to get my breathing right. I looked around to see that I was at the back of the pack. Only a couple of people were behind me and gaining. I felt defeated already. Crap!
So I took a moment to gather myself and pushed forward. I ran slowly but steadily. Soon I started passing people. Several of those that had passed me had started walking by then and I soon made my way around them. Only a couple caught up to pass me after that point. Little by little I pushed my way through the runners until I had to stop again to walk. At a mile and half in I grabbed a drink of water at the water station. My mouth felt like I had cotton balls inside. As soon as I swished the water I was off again. Once I reached the two mile mark, I saw that I was off my desired pace by over a minute. Kick it girlie!
As I made the first turn past the two mile mark, I encountered the first of four speed bumps. It was comical to see the volunteers holding up signs to warn me that a speed bump was ahead when it was so largely obvious. Maybe it was hysterics or perhaps heat exhaustion, but I got so tickled that I got some funny looks as I trudged by. I was still laughing when I reached the second one at about 100 yards up the road.
Once I reached the two and half mile mark, I had slowed down to a walk again and was right behind a girl half my age walking. She looked dejected. I walked quietly behind her for about fifteen seconds and then took a deep breath. I looked at her and said “OK girlfriend-we’re at the two and a half mile mark. We can do this. Let’s go get ‘em!” She just smiled and shook her head no. I shrugged and took off again. As I neared the next to last turn there was a slight hill. I was all alone, except for the construction workers who just stared as I blasted down the incline as fast as my little short fat legs would go. I was reminded of my daughter jokingly telling me that I look like a hobbit when I run. Well whatever I can do to entertain…
Then I encountered two more speed bumps complete with volunteers holding signs warning of their existence. More laughter ensued in between my loud gasping for breath as I continued to push onward. Come on now! I am wasting valuable resources with this silliness. Get on with it!
At the last turn before the half mile push to the finish line, I was even able to appreciate the attractiveness of the beefy fireman working traffic control. One has to be able to enjoy themselves whenever the opportunity arises- right?
The last quarter of mile was sheer torture. My lungs felt like hot pokers of fire. My legs were screaming. My nausea was dangerously close to some embarrassing attention. I saw the timer at the finish line. I had only a short time to kick it in to beat my previous time. My daughter and her friend appeared out of the crowd running back towards me on the sidewalk.
Please believe me when I say my daughter can rival any track coach when it comes to urging me on in those final yards. She showed no mercy as I sprinted with the very last drop of energy I could muster toward the finish line. It was like I saw it all in slow motion as I raced to beat the clock in my Nike Structure running shoes. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Gasp Gasp Gasp….
When I passed the finish line, I had shaved only a minute of my previous time off. But a minute was a minute and I’ll take what I can get. It was a hard earned minute and I refuse to diminish how significant it was to me.
Granted I am still as slow as a turtle compared to those in front of me, especially my daughter and friends. But each race is an improvement. There were still quite a few behind me yet to complete the race; the last one crossing a good twenty minutes behind me. As I sat on the sidewalk gasping for air, I knew I had done it! My husband, my daughter, friends and the crowd had all cheered me on to the finish. It was an incredible feeling.
After the race, the awards ceremony followed. My friend came in first in his age division. My daughter came in third overall female and first in her age group. Her friend came in first in her age group. And low and behold- I came in second in my age group! We all received medals and gift certificates to the local Athletics/ Sporting Goods store. Sweet!
The third race was just as important as the first and second because I learned new things each time. This time I learned that even though it may seem everyone at the first is going to kick my butt, I just need to do my thing and believe in myself. I learned not to give up or give in to insecurity and doubt. I also learned how to reach down deep for that sprint to the finish. These are some lessons that I think would be wise to carry over into everyday life as well. I realize that even if I do finish last, at least I am in the race. I learned to enjoy the ride! Finally I learned its okay to laugh at the speed bumps along the way….
On this past New Years Eve I ran in my first 5K. Just a week shy of my fiftieth birthday, eighty pounds overweight and very much out of shape, I let my daughter convince me to run in this crazy race. Perhaps it was some mid life crisis I was feeling over the reality of turning 50 or just pure denial at the sad state I had allowed my body to reach that caused me to agree to this insanity.
Whatever the reason, I made the commitment. I filled in the registration form, circled my shirt size, sent in my check and made my plan. From the moment I watched the mailman take away my envelope, the anxiety started setting in. What had I just done???
In the weeks leading up to the event, my anxiety rose to near panic. I asked myself a thousand questions: “What if I couldn’t finish the race?” “What would I wear?” “What could I wear?” “Will my fat jiggle everywhere?” “Will people laugh at me?” “What if I make a fool out of myself?” “What if I had a heart attack?” Good grief that would be embarrassing (not to mention inconvenient) “Dang-what was I thinking?” I wasn’t a runner. I was barely a walker!!
One thing I found out at the beginning of this little endeavor was that most fitness stores do not carry large women size clothing. And don’t even think about the clothing stores for larger women carrying anything remotely “work-out-ish”. They don’t want you to even think about losing weight! However, after searching high and low, I was able to find a runners skirt, some tights and a nice shirt to wear. A good sports bra is a MUST! I went to a specialty store and was fitted with the proper running shoe; bought some good cushiony socks, a Nike cap and I was set. Clothing wise anyways; my fitness level was another whole subject.
Then it was New Years Eve. While most normal people were getting ready for their night out, I was in absolute panic mode readying myself for a night of what was sure to be hell. Worrying about all the possibilities, I felt that if I just finished that would be enough of an accomplishment for now.
My daughter kept reassuring me that I was going to be fine. I had been running at the local track with her for the past month and a half. I wasn’t able to run the whole three miles, but I could do the walk/run enough to finish. Always well winded and struggling but I was able to complete the 3.1 miles.
So when the evening hour approached and the weather started to turn bad, I knew this might be an omen. First the temps dropped into the 30’s. Then the rain and sleet started to fall intermittently. The wind was cold enough to feel like a knife was slicing through to your bones. Lycra and spandex do not keep you very warm. Add a bad case of nerves and what a mess I was. To add insult to injury, I had to drive 45 minutes to the event; stopping for gas because someone in my family had used my car without refueling it!
We arrived at the race sight, went in to the registration table and that is where I saw the sign that stated that the race officials had placed a cut off time on the race of 45 minutes. My heart sank because that was close to the time I had been running in my training. Yes I know that is slow, but I was a beginner and I was trying. I began to work myself up big time after seeing that stupid sign. As if I wasn’t nervous enough, now I had a time constraint to work with. My daughter tried to reassure me but wasn’t being very successful. She later told me I sounded like our dog when he gets worked up and starts whining until he is howling in uncontrollable panic.
The course was a hilly road that would begin at the top of a hill, race down to a school parking lot, then back up the hills toward the start point and further towards more hills, circle a large shopping center, then back out towards the starting point, traversing more hills and ending in a church parking lot. Not the best course for a first-timer.
So in the biting cold, we lined up; about 100 racers in the dark. I moved to the back of the pack, my daughter was at the front. I didn’t know any of the other racers. They ranged from seasoned pros to what looked liked semi pros to me. Then the sound of the fog horn was blown and we were off. I pushed the button on my watch and away I went.
Right off the bat, I was elbowed, jostled and passed. I was able to keep up fairly well until about a ½ mile in. Then I just couldn’t keep the pace with those around me and started falling back. I slowed down to a walk long enough to catch my breath and faced my first hill. I chugged up the hill and then down it. I made the first curve and up the next hill. Slowly but still going. Through a school parking lot and back out the way I had just come. Back up the hills I had just trudged up and down. I checked my watch. Suffering Succotash!!!-the stupid thing wasn’t working! Curses!! I not only didn’t know my pace but I didn’t even know how far I’d come or had to go.
I saw officials, but no one was calling out my split times. No mile markers were to be found. It was dark and I was all alone in the cold except for a large man chugging along behind me looking every bit as miserable as I was. As we approached the starting point where a small crowd had gathered to cheer us on, the man passed me. Then the man veered off into the parking lot, went straight to his car, got in and drove off. What the Heck! Now that was definitely not encouraging. Barely half way in and mutinies were happening. I decided right then and there I was not quitting-no matter what!
Just a little past the start point, I met the front runner coming up the hill as he is returning to the finish line. Great! I am just barely halfway and he is finishing! Then as I go down the hill-still in the dark all by myself- I start meeting other runners as they come up the hill. At the bottom of the hill I meet my daughter as she is heading towards the finish line. I yell out to her that I realized that I wasn’t going to make the cut off time, but I was just going to finish it anyways; that I would see her at the finish line. She looks like she might be struggling a bit herself. As I start into the shopping center where there is a little more light, I see all the runners in front of me have already gone around the shopping center and have headed out. I don’t see anyone behind me. I trudge on. The officials are there calling out encouraging words spurring me on, but no one is calling out times or mileages. Lord will this ever be over!!
As I finally make it around the back of the shopping center and head back out to go up the last big hill, I start to see the other runners behind me. These runners have yet to even get into the shopping center. I am not the last runner!!! There are a dozen or so still behind me!! So I won’t be the only disqualified runner. Hoorah!
As I approach the top of the hill I run out of steam and walk yet again. I just want to finish this. I see my daughter appear out of the darkness. “What are you doing walking?” she yells. “Move it!” I tell her I know that I have missed the cutoff time. She yells back, “Mom it is only 36 minutes in. You have plenty of time! So MOVE IT! You’ve got this!!” I tell her I know she is lying to me just to get me moving. She yells back “NO I’M NOT! Let’s go!!” So I go!-Up the rest of the hill to the finish line. Coming in at 39 minutes; exhausted but within the cut-off time. My husband, other daughter and the crowd cheered me on. What a feeling that was to reach that finish line! I was slow as a turtle, but I did it! If my daughter hadn’t come back to urge me on, I may not have made the cut-off time. When the awards were given out later I was stunned to receive a second place trophy for finishing in the top three of my age division. That was hilarious! Granted there were only 6 in my age division, still a trophy is a trophy.
Wow what a night! I learned so many things that night. Such as to never give up. That my family has my back. How to reach down deep. To buy a better watch. To control those nerves better. That no matter what I may have looked like out there running, those people on the sidelines weren’t judging me. Even if they were it doesn’t matter because I was doing something. They were on the sidelines watching-not participating.
I have also found that runners are some of the best people you will ever meet. They are encouraging and very supportive of each other. I have attended dozens of meets and have seen every type of individual participating or attending. It is truly a sport for all. I love the motto: JUST DO IT!
