The first NiteMoves GP 2009 was re-scheduled for today, as a result of the fire last month.

I will be reporting on the race later, adding to this post.   I will say now that the weather was fantastic, and I think times were in general very fast.  Gae was smoking!  Here are a few pictures, courtesy of Hal:

Warming up before the race.

Nearing the finish

Closer. . .

Really close. . .

Finally!

That's me front/center with my Nordic Walking (and sometimes running) class

Today I took my Nordic Walking class to the beach at low tide.  In addition to training private clients, and doing Physical Therapy, I teach a class Nordic walking class at the Santa Barbara YMCA. Our class met this morning to Arroyo Burro Beach – to take advantage of the low tide. Weather was fantastic!  Ran into the SBAA Vieja Valley Sunday morning bunch – perfect day to get some sand running in – with or without poles!

Hal came along (he took the picture above) – and was able to get in an hour of Nordic Sand Running himself.

I like to use poles to vary my solo running, especially while out with the dogs at More Mesa or Ellwood. The poles become an extension of your arms – you can use them to unweight your spine and lower extremities while propelling you forward – and running becomes a full body experience. It took me a long time to learn how to use the poles like this - hours of trial and error/practice. Hal, who is by nature or genetics more coordinated than I, figured out how right away how to smoothly incorporate the poles while running.

I watched my husband disappear down the beach with his poles. A couple of women in my class commented on how strong, manly, sexy he looked.

The sand and poles  were kind to Hal. He got in a good run today – his back and hamstring didn’t bother him at all. And I was able to “Nordic run” without any knee or toe pain.

Can we do a marathon with poles at the beach?

Woke up Thursday with a bad stiff neck, cause unknown. (Stress/tension?) Spent all day at work trying to baby the neck. Avoiding lifting. Trying to to drive safely, without being able to turn my head. After work, tried all the usual self-treatments:  ice, heat, self massage, stretches. Woke up Friday with a stiffer neck. Friday at work – pretty much a repeat of Thursday. After work, I gave up on the self massage and stretches, and went for the hard stuff:  NSAIDs and Tylenol. This morning, woke up with a stomach ache, nausea, and  - yes – a stiff neck!

Off to the races. Realized that to beat my time from last year, I needed to do better than 1:40 per lap.  Hal had decided on a 1:38 goal. He would let me know if I was on pace for the overall race as I rounded each lap. I tried a warm up. Not too bad – but definitely didn’t feel like I was at my best. Far from it.  

Heat three started.  I could tell right away that this was not my day to set a PR.

 

Settled into a steady gait.  Jill, Desa, Rob, off in the distance. Oops-there goes Gae. She, too, now off  into the distance. Bye, Gae!  And there goes Wanda. Bye, Wanda! By the time I had covered a mile, I really was noticing my nausea. Hal was keeping me up on my laps ” You’re  8 seconds ahead.  You’re 4 seconds ahead. You’re right on. You’re 2 seconds behind. You’re 4 seconds behind.”  Yipes!  I just settled into a stoic gait, and hung in there as best I could.

“You’re 6 seconds behind.  You’re 10 seconds behind – last half lap!”  I tried to speed up – but I simply couldn’t.  At the end I was just trying, trying to match my time for last year – 12:28.  

And, miraculously, I did.  12:28.

After the race, I was chatting with Denis “DJ”, Jake Clinton, and Margaret Lafon. Denis, a stalwart of the SB running community for eons, asked me if I was new to running. I replied that I had had to take a bunch of years off – because of health issues. Jake mentioned that he had just run a marathon. He was happy to finish, regardless of time. Margaret said she felt so lucky to be able to run at all. I agreed. I feel lucky to be able to walk – and very, very exceptionally lucky to be able to run. We watched the Special Olympics crew jog around the track. And then the children.

The “agony” of that race – a privilege to experience. I am a very lucky woman.

The Marathon and the Mile. Both start with M. Both are races. You train for them. You run them. There is a start and a finish.

Hal signed up for the Los Angeles Marathon over 6 months ago. I signed up for the State Street Mile over 6 days ago. We both dreamed. We both trained. We both ran.

Hal is a very methodical guy. Having competed in 4 half-marathons, and finally recovered from last year’s back injury, he was ready for a new challenge. He searched online, read about many different races, and carefully decided on the Los Angeles Marathon – choosing it over San Diego because that one conflicted with the State Street Mile, which I intended to run. Six months before the marathon, he started his focused marathon training. He planned. Each week was different. He varied the weekly mileage, in a cyclic pattern: moderate, long, longer, longest. He carefully planned a specific variety of  runs within each week: long and easy on Saturdays. Short tempo run, or intervals at race pace, or semi-long distance at a moderate pace during the week. Sundays off. He carefully built his mileage. He planned each run out meticulously.  He tracked everything – distance, pace, effort level.

I continued to follow my random running schedule. If it hurts , ease off. If it feels good, keep doing it. If you have time, do more. If not, do less. I added the Sunday morning Vieja Valley runs to give me some distance. Four weeks before the State Street Mile, I started training with Rusty.

I really admire my husband. He has so much persistence and self-discipline. He sets goals, and then proceeds to plan out how to achieve them. For six months Hal trained. Methodically. Consistently. A week and a half  before the Los Angeles Marathon, he was ready. He even said “I wish I could run the marathon now!“

Then it happened. During his taper, exactly one week before the race. Monday, May 18th. His right hamstring seized up on him. Bad. While he was walking the dogs. The pain behind his leg did not go away. It continued to burn and tingle – and got worse with stretching. Hal took the entire week off. Resting. Heating. Icing.  NSAIDs. Massage. Jacuzzi. He tried an easy 2 mile jog the day before the race. Not too terrible, tolerable. He attempted the race. Got through to mile 13 – but then had to stop. Could hardly walk at that point. Did not finish the race.

Waiting for the start of the LA Marathon.

To make a long story short, we still don’t know exactly what happened. His doctor says he has a pinched nerve coming from his back.  And he recommends Hal take some time off running. Grrrr!!!  At any rate, the leg is still bothering Hal quite a lot.

That was (and is) the Agony.

Now for the rest of the story.  A little over a month ago, I started training with Rusty, joining the SBAA coached track runs.  What an eye-opener!  Runners would be instructed to run at a specific pace and they could do it!  Easily. Without constantly checking a watch or GPS. We would go for a distance at a very challenging pace. Then repeat it. Again. And again. And again. Change it around a little – maybe make it more challenging.  Then go for those repeats. Rather different experience from my typical solo runs: Singing to myself, maybe doing some free-form fartleks if I felt good, then picking it up toward the end of my run. . .

To my amazement I was able to keep up with the track workouts. I decided to try a Saturday morning coached run.  I was able to do that too!  Fast, strong, hold it, there! (It was really challenging, but also fun at the same time.) So I did it again. Even more fun!

Then, last Sunday, I did the State Street mile.  I ran that race last year. My memories of the experience were of starting strong, and progressively dying as the race went on. Sucking air. Battling to stay moving at the end.

Not like that this year!  It was a total high. I didn’t die at all!  I felt strong and good to the finish. The ecstasy!  I improved my time from last year by 15 seconds – from 5:53 at age 53 to 5:38 at age 54. Cool! Reverse aging? (I wish)

Only a few yards to go!

Hal was waiting at the finish, camera in hand.

Next marathon, Hal, I’ll be at your finish. Camera in hand.

What an amazing experience! Hal and I ran the Platte River Half-Marathon last Sunday – a point to point course that runs from Littleton CO to Denver.   http://www.platteriverhalf.com/

This was a major event for me in a number of ways:

1. My first race longer than a 10K in over a decade

2. My first race longer than 10 miles ever

3.  Altitude:  5,280 feet.  (Oxygen level only 85% sea level.)

4. Temperature: 17°F at start of race, 28°F at finish.

5. It snowed the day(and night) before, with wind gusts up to 30 MPH – and I shut down in the cold. . .

So – here’s my tale. . .

My 24 year old daughter lives and works in Denver. A race is a wonderful excuse to fly out and spend a few days with her. About two months ago, after running 11.5 miles with John B, in  a moment of complete craziness, I had suggested to Hal that we could each run the entire half marathon in Denver this year. Hal and I had run the race last year as a 2 -person relay – Hal had run the first two legs, each 5 miles, and I had anchored the final 5K. The weather for the 2008 race was perfect:  not unlike spring weather here in Santa Barbara.  About 80% of the run was on a bike route. I could run off paved surfaces whenever possible, to spare my toe.

Hal and I arrived in Denver Thursday night, April 2, 2009 – the race being scheduled for Sunday, April 5. Weather was nice – but they were predicting a serious storm, due to come in on Saturday. Friday morning, Hal and I went out for a 4-mile test run – to check out the altitude. Weather was fine: Cool, sunny, minimal wind – highs in the upper fifties.  I did feel the altitude – initially, my HR stayed low, I became breathless, and I felt dizzy.  After running a mile or so, I was able to get my heart rate up, and by the last couple of miles, I felt pretty normal. 

The following day, the storm came in. With a vengeance. Snow. Ice. Low of 11°F, high of 17°F, steady 18 MPH winds out of the north (the direction the race would be heading), with 30 MPH gusts, and wind chill factor at 2°F.  Horrible. We minimized our outside time.  No running. Drove to the packet pcik-up, got our numbers. The race had sold out – they limited the (pre-paid) entires to 1500 individual, 100 relays. No chips – just race numbers for timing.

That night, in our hotel room, we watched the weather channel. Did not look good. I fussed and fretted about my layering. Worried about not finishing. Hal told me he would take the race as a workout run, and would stay with me. That he would not mind if I had to stop early. “Even after just 3 miles?” I asked.  Hal assured me that he would be satisfied with the run – no  matter if or when I stopped. That helped.

I told Hal I would decide whether to run or not the morning of. Tomorrow. The winds continued to angrily howl outside our hotel room.  

Sunday morning. The alarm went off. I peered outside. Magic! Winds had calmed down. Fresh powder on the ground. Rabbit tracks. Sun. I proceeded to act as though I were going to run the race. Ate breakfast. Initiated  dressing sequence: Layer one. Layer two. Layer three. . .

Layering is an art.  Like nested eggs – you have to start with the tightest fitting layer, and work on out to the loosest. By the time Hal started dressing himself, I had six layers on top. Two on the bottom. Two hats ready to go. Was testing out socks to see how many layers of SmartWool I could cram into my shoes. 

We went outside. Not too bad. I added one final layer on top. Lucky seven. 

We drove to the race start. Lined up. In the middle of the pack. They had salted the route, and it was mostly clear, but the officials warned us about slush and icy patches. 

The race started. On time!  After about a minute, we finally crossed the starting line. The early trick was to pick a path through the crowds without stepping into slush or slipping on ice. Slush in the sun, ice in the shade. The non-paved areas to the sides were either frozen or a slushy, muddy mess. I decided, for safety, to stay on the paved road.  As did, it seems, everyone else.  I let Hal navigate.

To my extreme relief, my layering worked. My circulation did not cut off. I broke into a sweat. I actually felt overheated. We kept a steady pace, slowing for ice and to avoid slush. Passing people. The first 6 miles were easy. Geese in the riverbed. Snow on the grass. Snow covered Rocky Mountains to our left. Awesome.

By mile 8, my left big toe was talking to me. A lot. I stopped for almost 3 minutes at a pit-stop – to drink, eat a gel, use the restroom, and regenerate. Poor Hal stood around – probably wondering – would we go on?  I came out of the rest room, still unsure if I would finish. Altered my gait to minimize push off and rolled my foot outward, off the big toe.  Five miles to go. Averaging something around 8.5 minutes per mile. 

Mile 10. Toe still complaining – but with my altered gait, it was hanging in there. We were still doing better than a 9 minute mile pace. I gave Hal the thumbs up. I can do this!

Kept going strong. Sped up for the last quarter, and finished side by side,with an overall 8:41 minute mile pace, overall time 1 hour, 54 minutes, the last 0.1 mile a sprint at under a 6 minute mile pace. 

Afterwords, we had to hurry back to our hotel for  a noon check out. And guess what – the clouds gathered. The winds came back. It started to snow. By the time our flight took off that afternoon, the weather was miserable once again.

I did not race this half-marathon – I ran it – but it was a truly amazing experience. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. My husband was a pillar of support and encouragement. The whole snow/mountain backdrop was surreal. Finishing was a real high. (Of the 1600 prepaid registrants, only 1,138 finished.  I came in 4th out of 32 women in my age group – even with my slow start, easy pace, and protracted pit-stop. 

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday.  One week post race.  I have taken this week off, in deference  to my toe – but plan to try an Easter run with John B tomorrow.

Can’t wait!

New Years Resolution 2009:  I will run a 10K this year. Check!

Here it is, March 21, just 90 days into the year, and I just completed my New Years’ Resolution.  Awesome!  Thank you, Hal – my personal coach and best friend-spouse. Thank you, John B, Maggie, Karen, and Mariann – for giving me the support and encouragement I needed to attempt this. . . .

I realize I have a lot of fear, when it comes to working into pain. Back in the early 90’s when my lupus was out of control, once a “flare” got started, it seemed like nothing I did had any impact. I would rest, stay warm, take strong medications, do everything my doctors could come up with – without seeming to have any impact on the course of the disease.

It’s been several years since I’ve been actually disabled by lupus. I’ve had worse times and better times – but nothing that put me completely out of commission. However, I’m still very wary, fearful of doing something that might initiate one of those nightmarish flares. When anything characteristic of my disease starts to hurt, I always wonder “have I pushed it too far this time?”  I’m also superstitious. It’s like if I say “I can do this!”  I’m daring the disease to rear its ugly head. . .

Last month, I ran in the Peabody 5 mile race.  Was nervous beforehand about the distance – but, with encouragement from Hal before, and Maggie during, I ran it, enjoyed it, and put in a very respectable performance. I started flirting with the idea of entering the Orchard to Ocean 10K in Carp.

For two weeks, I wavered back and forth. I focussed on my left big toe – my weakest link.  Noticed every little change. Better today. Worse today.  I obsessed on determining what provoked the changes for the worse. Was it because I ran? Because of the weather? Because I was on my feet too much? Because I got too cold? Because I didn’t get enough sleep? Because I’m fighting an infection?

When the slight worsenings would resolve, I would breathe a sigh of relief. Beat it this time. . .Then it would worsen again, and I would go back to my obsessing. .

Two weeks went by – and I still hadn’t signed up for the 10k. Went to bed last night nursing a very sore toe. It even hurt when I was wearing  my most protective  shoes and slippers. I was annoyed because I had no clue as to why the toe was “acting up”.  But I set the alarm. Would decide whether or not to race in the AM.

The alarm went off. I gingerly stepped out of bed – slipped into my slippers – and determined that my toe was slightly better. Thought about how I would feel if I did the race – proud and happy – unless I seriously aggravated my toe. Thought about how I would feel if I decided instead to take the weekend off – frustrated, annoyed, depressed. I decided to “take the plunge”  (Sort of like finally immersing oneself into the cold ocean after standing around equivocating. .)

I woke up Hal. Ever supportive, he had told me before we went to bed last night that he wanted to come with me if I decided to do the race. (I knew it would mean postponing his planned 20-mile morning workout run by a couple of hours.)

Last minute sign up. Weather was damp – morning drizzle – but turnout seemed good.

Having run the race, here is my report: The Carpinteria Education Foundation did a fantastic job.  The race was very well organized.  The route was scenic, clearly marked. and with minimal traffic. Plenty of restrooms, and a really nice indoor venue (much appreciated in the wet weather) for registering and waiting. Huge numbers of friendly, helpful, competent volunteers. Lots of great refreshments. .

A new experience for me – racing a longer distance, and without any of my regular “race buddies” to help me set a reasonable pace. I used my HR monitor, practicing what I guessed was “tempo” running”, stayed on the off-road surfaces as much as possible – and managed to keep a nice steady pace through to the end, finishing strong.  Time for my first 10k*  45:54

*Guess that makes it a PR!

Hal and me after the race. I took first in my age group!

So I’m back home.  Hal is off on his 20-mile run.  My toe seems slightly annoyed with me - I’m trying to not obsess - but I am really happy and proud.

Maybe.

If my toe behaves itself.

Pictures-thank you Dj- http://imageevent.com/sb_galleries/runningraces/super4miler 

Racing seems to be “the miracle cure”! A great way to obliterate various aches and pains, albeit temporarily. A month ago, I discovered that my unruly GI system (set off by my having blithely consumed a large quantity of spoiled fruit the night before) calmed down long enough to allow me to complete the New Years Resolution Day Run without dire consequences. Today I learned that other bothersome bodily issues can respond accordingly to the demands of a race.

I’ve been dealing with this annoying toothache.  I have a temporary crown on my upper right  eyetooth.  It was supposed to be replaced this past week.  Then my dentist moved the time up – he had to travel across country for his fathers’ funeral, and managed to squeeze me into his last-minute schedule a week ago last Friday – the day before he left town. Unfortunately, as he worked on me, his equipment broke.  Unable to finish the procedure, he put a new temporary crown on the tooth.

As luck would have it, the new temporary broke into pieces Thursday night.  Some of the pieces stayed cemented on the tooth-stump. But most of the stump was exposed. The tooth immediately started complaining.  Ow! Ow! Ow!  The on-call dentist squeezed me in Friday, and fashioned a vampire-esque cap that he cemented over the sore tooth.  It felt loose and sore. Last night, as I was rinsing my mouth, the cap came off.  Ow!

I took a couple of Tylenol and went to bed. Race morning dawned. Tooth felt okay as long as I kept my lips closed. So I went on with my preparations for the race.  This would be my first race as a 54-year old – and my second ever 4-mile race.

I’m back from the race now.  And, honestly, the tooth had absolutely no effect on my race performance.  The weather was fantastic, the course was fast and beautiful, the race was really well organized, and my toothache completely vanished as I struggled to pace myself, push the tempo, etc.  

My regular dentist called me this morning after I returned home. He’s back in town, should be able to put on a permanent crown Wednesday. Three more days to tolerate the exposed tooth-stump. I think I can live with this stupid toothache for a few more days. The drill: Eat soft foods, left side only, and avoid hot and cold beverages.  

I suppose if I really get desperate, I can just keep on running. . .(just kidding!)

Posted in the Los Angeles Marathon website: 

The word of Rod

“Before you criticise someone, you should run a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticise them, you’re a mile away and you have their shoes.”     Rod Dixon            

Fran’s snarky comment:  Isn’t “criticize” spelled with a “z”?

Help!  I’m wearing the shoes,  running that mile – just hope the LA Marathon blogger who typed Rod’s quote isn’t from Kenya!

Thank you, SBAA.  Thank you, Hal.  Thank you, John.  Thank you Rob, with your dog Oscar.  Thank you, Fred.

Since the start of the New Year (and I take no personal credit whatsoever in the achievement) I have been incorporating one “Long Slow Distance“ into my weekly mileage. We called such runs LSD, per Joe Henderson, back in the early 70’s –  before d-lysergic acid diethylamide  became the all too common use for that acronym. My plan is to try to do 3 runs per per week – one LSD, one SEX (my own term – Short Easy eXcursion) and one SIS (again my own coinage – Short Intense Session.)

Hal is a great coach for the SIS.  He plans out a 4 mile workout – one mile warm-up, followed by three miles of a variety of drills: Tempo, intervals, sprint sets, etc, and then cool down.  The SEX is easy – I can figure that one out on my own. But the LSD – Ouch! I don’t have the fortitude to run much over 6 miles solo. I start focussing in on those little aches and pains, and convince myself that it’s time to call it quits. Hal suggested I try joining a group run once per week.  So, now, for 3 weeks straight, I’ve been running with the group that leaves Vieja Valley on Sundays around 8am.  The first two weeks I ran 9.3 and 9.8 miles with John Brennand, Kim, and Mary, using John as my entertainment/motivation.  Amazing how the time  goes by when you’re not just thinking about your joints!  

Then, last week, John was out of town.  And Kim and Mary, the other two runners I’d been tailing, also weren’t there.  Decision time.  Do I go it solo – or do I try to tail the “fast group”?  I had faint hopes for my ability to do any respectable distance on my own.  I hadn’t even brought my iPod.  So I decided to follow the “fast group” – and drop off when I needed to. Fred Mellon mentioned that he was doing a “short distance” – turning at Patterson – so I knew I had the option to join him.

We took off.  The 8 minute-mile pace “warm up”  felt okay – I’d already warmed up running to Vieja Valley, and 8 minute miles are not difficult for me .  However –  I have not run that pace in the past 20 years for anything over 6 miles.  And the group planned to pick it up.  I dropped to to the back.  Rob, who was running with his dog, joined me. He was very mellow, and running a bit slower than the rest of the group. I decided to try to stay with him. 

We reached the end of More Mesa. I glanced at my Garmin Forerunner 305 to see how I was doing. Oops!  I had forgotten to restart my GPS after leaving Vieja Valley. Darn it! Meant I wouldn’t know exactly what distance I ran. Oh, well.

We headed up to Campus. So far, so good. Around the Lagoon. Still good. Back to the bike trail. At that point I noticed my HR was down by 15- 20 BPM.  No energy.  Aside from that, felt fine.  Ran another 3 miles. Then, all of a sudden, about 1 mile from my home (11 or 12 miles into the run?  I don’t know – all I do know is , a hell of a lot farther than I’ve run in literally decades), IT hit me. Knee pain. Foot numbness. Muscles tightening – everywhere! I pushed on another quarter mile – then told Rob I would take it REAL slow back to my home.  And I did.  Reeeaaaaal  slooow. The turtle would have beaten me. Got home, stretched, ate.  Stretched some more.  Ate some more.

I was kind of spooked all Sunday afternoon.  Had I blown it?  I did my best to baby my knee and foot the rest of the day – and yesterday (Monday) did a “recovery day” thing – easy spin, stretch, that’s all. Today I woke up feeling almost back to normal. Did some intense Nordic Walking. Felt great. Whew!  Tomorrow I will try my SIS with Hal.

Next Sunday, my plan is to remember to start my GPS, track the mileage, and keep it to 10 miles or less. For now.

Part of my New Years Resolution to run a 10K this year involves adding more mileage to my weekly runs.  I had decided to try adding a group run to my weekly schedule. Having recovered from the “rotten fruit on New Years Eve” episode, I targeted this week’s Sunday run, which starts at 8am at the Vieja Valley elementary school, a bit over half a mile from my home.

I kind of lost track of the time, and as I headed out the door, I glanced at my watch. Ooops. 8:02 am.  Oh, well. I decided to continue out to Vieja Valley, on the off chance that the group would be running a bit late. Otherwise, I decided I would just do a solo “long slow run” – which, up until today, has meant anything over 5.5 miles, at a verrrry slow jog – averaging at best 10 minutes per mile, heart rate staying well under 110 BPM. (Yes, I’m embarrassed)

To my surprise/delight, the group was still in the parking lot at 8:10 as I arrived. Wow. I felt amazingly lucky. John Brennand was there – I told him I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to maintain a fast pace.  He suggested I run with him and a couple of other women. And we took off.

It was fun! The time flew by. I totally enjoyed the whole experience.

I am still basking in the thrill of having covered 9.3 miles today, without having hurt anything, as far as I can tell. 9.3 miles. That’s 15 kilometers!  Farther than I have run in a day for almost 2 decades! Farther than I averaged in a week one year ago! I know it wasn’t at anything close to a race pace – my average heart rate was about 130, and my max was 144 – but that is waaay much better than the “long slow runs” I’ve been doing up to this point!

I plan to try it again next Sunday.