Chicago Marathon

I'm sitting here on Dec 9 and it occurred to me that I didn't write a marathon post. It also occurred to me that I should be running 8-10 miles today. And finally, it occurred to me (as it does daily), that I may be insane for thinking I can train for a marathon by myself during the winter months in Chicago.

First of all, I'm running the Phoenix Marathon the first weekend in March with my soul sister in all things running, Miranda. This is her first marathon and I'm so excited we will be taking on the challenge. However, this challenge of training without a training group, in the dead of winter, seems somewhat impossible to me. I am going back to the start though .... back to when I thought running 13.1 was impossible, back to when I used this blog to help me through those "this is impossible" thoughts. More on Phoenix training later ....

Now, the Chicago Marathon ...  !!!

The day dawned cool, but not cold, with a cloudy start and a possible break though of the sun when I would be mid race. I am was thrilled. I fear heat and sun. I was ecstatic to be in a hat and gloves at the start.

My goal was to run under 5 hours. My wonderful training group pals wanted either to run like hell from the start (my two crazy fast friends), or take it super slow and finish around 5:15 (the rest of the group). I was in the middle and didn't know if I would run with either group. One of the Team to End AIDS coaches was standing with us at the start and overheard me proclaim "I want to run under 5 hours". He seemed slightly unsure I was making a smart decision, because I had trained at tad slower pace than that. I was certain though, that I would attempt to do this. So, we started off the race running together. This turned out to be one of the best race decisions I've ever made. Coach Ross was fantastic. He kept me on pace. He encouraged me, checked in with me, and helped me mentally plan out how I'd do it. We ran together for almost 20 miles. I am terrible at knowing things that involve time. Calculating, adding, subtracting, multiplying, etc., aren't things I have any desire to do while running. I'm much more of a zen runner. I just run. So, Ross helped me think though each stage, told me how I was progressing time-wise, and I didn't have to think about that stuff at all. Glorious.

I was amazed at how quickly the miles flew by. This marathon was different than my first. I was less emotionally swayed by the cheers, friends I saw, and family I hugged. I loved seeing everyone, absolutely, but I felt more focused and less reliant on the energy I got from other people. Perhaps this is because I've now run through cities many times during large races. I knew what I had to do to finish.

An issue arose around mile 6 that concerned me. My right foot, under my arch, began to hurt. This is most likely due to an old injury that flared up during my physical therapy for my IT band issues which started in May. Standing on one leg during PT exercises to strengthen my right side may have put too much strain on that old injury. By mile 14 it was killing me and I was FREAKED OUT. I knew I'd finish, but I thought I may be during intense damage to my foot. I stopped briefly to stretch and pressed on.

Seeing my Mom, Dad, and friend Kerry at mile 17 was amazing. I can't express in words how much it means to me that my family supports me, flies in or drives in for these races, and expresses such support  and love when I run. I am truly blessed. I sometimes feel like races aren't even that big of a deal (I have a problem with minimizing my accomplishments), but my family insists on making them a big deal and I love them for it.

So, the foot hurt, Coach Ross was fantastic, the weather warmed a bit, but it wasn't hot and I ran on. Around mile 19 Ross slowed to check on some struggling T2 runners and I continued on alone. And just like last time, mile 20 was where I hit the wall. Shit just started to hurt. But I had music and for the first time in the race decided to blast some hair metal to get me through. I cried a little. The pain, the people, the training, the day, my friends and family, the other runners, the desire to run for my friends living with AIDS, my time goal, it all kind of hit me at once.

I kept running, thinking, "This is more painful than the last time, what with my foot in extreme pain and my right side killing me (continued IT band issues), but it's easier too." At mile 23 I knew I could accomplish my goal and I knew my Dad would be at mile 26, where I'd turn the corner, run up the hill and finish. I didn't see him at mile 26 and I knew I wouldn't, but I waved and he saw me and that was enough to really push me to run through what was now the searing pain I felt on almost every component on the right side of my body. So, I crossed the finish. God, I was happy to be done, and I quickly learned that I didn't know if I'd be able to walk the distance it takes to get the medal, food, water, beer, etc. I almost fell over on the ground. I was in EXTREME pain, thinking, "I can't feel like this forever, can I? CAN I? This pain will subside at some point in my life, right? RIGHT?!"

It took me maybe 30 minutes or more to walk back to Charity Village. I ran into two other T2 runners and the three of us took tiny baby steps back. Agony. Back in the T2 tent I discovered the age old remedy for extreme running pain, a combination of sitting down and cold beer. Seeing my family, friends, and T2 training pals also helped, along with some intense painkillers.

In that tent, I got to sit next to my Mom and my Dad, that doesn't happen very often, and it was perhaps the highlight of my entire marathon. The day continued, with food and beers with family and friends, walking around the city with my badass medal, thinking I was too exhausted to continue to celebrate, then finding a second and third wind to keep the party going well into the evening.

I did it. 4:47:18. Under 5 hours. I was and still am ecstatic, thrilled, elated, joyous, exuberant, and any other word you want to choose. In 2009 I ran in 5:34:54. So, yes, I'm happy.

It was another day of being thankful for running. Thankful I can run. Thankful I can commit to something, progress, endure, fight the through the setbacks, and generally have the physical health and wellbeing to actually get out there and compete. Thank you, Chicago.

The Start. 

Coach Ross. 

                                                                           

Dad 

Mom and Kerry

Mile 26. On the right. 

The long walk back to Charity Village.

4:47:18

The post before I post about the marathon

I haven't written in months. After studying in Dublin and trying to train for the marathon at the same time, I got out of the habit of documenting my running life. School took up all of my time .... and drinking Guinness, most regularly at a pub called Farrington's in the Temple Bar area.

I didn't train well while in Europe. I managed a great 14 mile run in The Hague and a 16 mile run in Dublin, but they were LONG and slow, and difficult. I didn't run much during the week. Training while spending all day, everyday, in classes was hard. I knew it would be. I told myself I'd train like a mad woman once I got home in August. I didn't really do that either. I did alright, but I wasn't phenomenal. The 18 mile run I was supposed to run in London turned into a 4 mile run. The 20 mile run I tried to run in Chicago didn't work because I didn't read an email closely and went to the wrong location for the training run, so I went home and ate bacon instead. I thought I'd run it the next day, which worked until mile 12 when a torrential downpour that wouldn't let up caused me to throw in the towel and eat pizza instead. Another 12 mile run was terrible due to the heat ..... it was much cooler in Dublin all summer.

So, I kept thinking .... am I ready for the marathon? The MARATHON. This isn't a piece of cake. This  is intense. After the 23 mile run I felt decent, but we had taken it slow, stopping for breaks for the bathroom and water. I had a goal for this marathon, but when I looked at my training I doubted myself. In 2009 I ran in 5:34. My goal this year was to run in under 5 hours. Hmmm .... could I do it?

One thing that encouraged the hell out of me was my time for the Chicago Half Marathon in September. I was astonished I ran a 2:08, a PR by around 7 min. I ran at a 9:47 pace. I was floored. Maybe I am getting better at this running thing .....

So, did I break 5 hours this past Sunday? Tune in to find out ....

More soon ...

JLP

PR on a Thursday night

I tried out an evening 5K this week for the first time, the Jim Gibbons Leukemia Research 5K. I don't always do well in the evening when it comes to running. This is prime nap time in my life, so, I wondered if I would be sluggish. I had new awesome shoes though: Brooks PureConnect. They make me feel pretty badass. I've been running in Vibrams lately and love them, but I don't think I want to run 26.2 in them this fall, and my other shoes are just too cushioned. I feel like I'm running on a cloud and I don't like it. I love how connected to the ground I feel in Vibrams and the Brooks give me a similar feeling. And they look freakin' cool.

Anyway, I don't like 5K much. They hurt. I tend to run like a bat out of hell (for me that's anything in the 8:15-9:15 pace range). I feel the need to run almost as fast as I can since it's such a short distance. The problem is I'm not good at keep that pace for longer than 1.5 more or so. I get that far and start thinking, "I hate this. This is hard. This sucks." I also have an issue with my right hip right now and I'm sore all the time. That didn't help. I forgot my headphones too and I hate hearing people huff and puff while running. It just annoys me and makes me anxious for some reason.

I walked a water stop, which annoyed me, but I needed to. I walked again at another point. I thought, "It's only 3.1 miles, why am I walking??"I was annoyed with myself. It was just hot and muggy and I was going fast and didn't feel that well. So, 30 seconds of walking helped a little.

I picked it up even faster the last 200 meters or so. I had a chance at being under 28:30. I wasn't sure what my PR was, but I was fairly sure it was near that time.

So, the race ended. I had a beer, listened to some cover band play Matchbox 20 songs, and made my way home.

This morning I saw the results: PR by 3 seconds. Awesome! 28:30! 9:11 pace. Cool. I was 22 out of 66 in my age group. Anytime I'm not in the bottom half of my age group I'm pretty thrilled.

Cool. First PR in anything in over a year. Rock on!

Unbelievably cool running experience

My 5th grade student, Timmy, asked me run a race with him. He asked in some frigid month and the race was in May. I recall thinking: "This is months away. Sounds good. Let's do it." So, I signed up. Timmy is 10. Timmy wanted to run the Solider Field 10 miler. Little did I know this would end up being one of the absolute coolest running experiences I've ever had. I thought maybe he'd be super slow or super fast and then super slow. I thought he may walk. He's 10 after all. WHAT 10 YEAR OLD RUNS 10 MILES??

The answer: THIS KID. 

We met at the start line, in corral 13. Timmy was also running with his Dad, Mike. We waited, an electric storm passed just to the north, the anxiety crept into my hands, where I always feel it the most. I wasn't exactly ready for 10 miles. I was supposed to run 6 that morning and 10 seemed far. 

Timmy, Mike, and I stayed together for the first mile, then, Mike veered off to wait in line for the restroom. Timmy and I continued for the next 5 or so on our own.

This kid is amazing. Our pace was around 10:30 most of those early miles and at mile 6 I asked how he was feeling. He said he "great" and it didn't appear he had even broken a sweat. People saw us and commented, "Wow, way to go kid!", "You're going to by an Olympian, kid." It was like running with a celebrity. Timmy commented on how comfortable and similar our paces were. He said we should run more races together and I said absolutely. I did tell him he would need to stop growing up though. He was going to get better and better, and probably dramatically faster. I, on the other hand, would most likely not be a drastically different runner in a year. 

He would check in with me. "How are you feeling, Ms. Perry?" What a cool kid.

We listened to our music and at times I thought he was talking to me and then I realized he was singing along to his favorite songs.

We saw a guy head for the trees and Timmy asked where he was going. I had to explain nature called. 

Mike caught up with us and we finished strong, Timmy sprinting the final 50 yards on Solider Field. This was the first time he had ever run 10 miles in his life. 

I have been told this was nice of me, to run with one of my students. I think it's the other way around though. I think it was nice of Timmy to invite me to run with him. Most kids shutter at the thought of seeing teachers outside of the building. Timmy knew I was a runner and wanted to run with me. How cool is that?! It was a true honor to see a kid so brilliantly complete a distance I didn't run until I was 28 years old. 

He is one of those people I look up to because of his joy for running. I have those moments sometimes, but often they are few and far between. Timmy and I just ran, for the fun of it, and it wasn't easy for him or me. We both had moments of pain and discomfort, but that's often the most joyous part ....  fighting until you cross the finish line. 

One more thing. Timmy was the youngest person to run this race. He was the ONLY 10 year old. So, I did run with a celebrity. Wow. 

The running ROCK STAR, Timmy, with me and his Dad.

Day One.

The Chicago Marathon. 151 days, 11 hours, 30 minutes, and 31 seconds ....

I will be running again this year. My first, and only marathon, was running Chicago in 2009. And beyond the physical lessons learned, I learned A LOT about how I view myself, as a runner, and as a human in general. I think I've come a long way in three years. Three years ago I didn't call myself a "runner". Even after completing the marathon I didn't always think I qualified as a runner. It took 7 half marathons and a spattering of 5Ks, a 10K, and a 10 mile race, to teach me that yes, I am a runner, and I was a runner back in 2009 too. I didn't train very well in 09 and I think that guilt, coupled with my slow time made me feel like a failure .... even though I ran the race. I've learned a lot. We are all runners. The friend who gets out there to go one mile doing a run/walk is a runner. The friend who is completing an ultra is a runner. And everyone in between. Slow, fast, if you cross the start line and cross the finish, even if you're crawling, you are a runner. I had some work to do on my confidence, and yes, perhaps I'm still working on it, but completing a marathon and then feeling like a total failure afterwards, even when receiving nothing but support from my friends and loved ones, taught me a great deal about myself.

So, it's 2012 and I'm doing it again. I was so excited on Saturday morning for day one of training. I'm running with The Team to End AIDS (T2) and will be raising money for the Chicago AIDS Foundation. This is the same program I trained with in 2009. Day one dawned foggy and damp, with intermittent drizzles. We run at 7am on Saturday mornings and even though I can't get out of bed early on a work day to save my life, I was on my feet, caffeinated, and ready to go by 6:30.


On day one we run 3 miles to determine our pace groups. Last time I was in the Alberto Salazar group (3 mile time between 31:31-33:00). This year I am in the Kara Goucher group (I LOVE HER!!), (3 mile time between 28:31-30:00.) Improvement! I like improvement!

I love this list of greats.

It felt a bit like coming home again to run on the lakefront path that early in the morning. I don't do that if I'm not running with a training group. I like sleep too much to get out of bed. I love the people of all ages, all ethnicities, all sizes, while hearing the cars on Lake Shore, passing familiar intersections and landmarks, and seeing the lake in all of its moods. It feels like Chicago woke up from a long winter nap (even though this winter wasn't actually long), and is ready to attack the pavement all spring, summer, and fall.

After three miles I met my pace group briefly and we took a day one photo (will be shared in a future post). I'm looking forward to Saturday runs with these people I know nothing about. We'll support each other, laugh, bitch, swear, tell stories, and get each other through long runs in all kinds of weather. I recall a brutal 12 miler in 2009 that nearly killed me due to heat and lack of salt consumption. My pace group friend had me envision my power animal. I couldn't decide on which animal ... bear? sloth? black cat? Thoughts?

More to come. I'll keep you posted.

Channeling the barefoot gods.

So, I bought Vibrams awhile ago, but have only run in them a few times. Once I went out for an easy 3 miles in them and could hardly walk the next day. It was clear I was using different muscles while running in 5 Fingers. A constant thought I have right now about my running is that I need to find the joy. Be more positive. I need to not stalk the next PR or the next super fast mile. I need to just run because I love what it has done in my life. I need to just be. Just run. It's OK if I'm not in the shape I was a year ago. Just run. It's OK if I'm not running races right now. Just run. So many runs lately have felt empty, difficult, negative. I'm thinking "I'm not this or that." "I'm not training like I should." "I suck at this." But this Thursday's 3 miler in my Vibrams brought back the joy I needed. First of all, I love barefoot running. I feel strong, swift. I think "tred lightly", and feel as if I actually am.

Time: 32:41
Distance: 3.01
Average Speed: 5:52
Pace: 10:52

I felt a sense of "YES" during this run, not "why didn't you run 4 miles?" or something similar. I need to get back to the basics, back to the days when I was astonished I could run a mile without stopping (sophomore year in college). Running makes me feel good and when it starts to do the opposite I need to remember each run counts, each run makes me stronger. 3 miles is good. It's not 4 or 8 or 10 or whatever, but it's good. Running twice a week isn't optimal, but it's still good.

And leave it at that. The barefoot gods pulled me along and I may stay and hang out with them for awhile.

a struggle or fight.

This word helped me accomplish 5.26 on Saturday. It may have a semi-permanent home on my hand for awhile.