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!

Just a brief replay here.  I was very hesitant to enter this race.  Thought the distance would be impossible – at anything approaching race pace.

There I am - following Maggie's lead. I did that for the entire race.

Found Maggie, and tailed her the entire race.  Mindless tailing.  Thank you, Maggie!  Couldn’t have done it without you!

Next race, I promise I won’t be such a parasite!

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.

Just got back from the New Years 5K. Or, more literally,  just emerged from the bathroom, having arrived home from the New Years 5K about 5 minutes ago. The toilet and I have been close buddies for the past 8 hours. Very, very close. Our longest separation was this morning, during the run.

Yesterday, I bought some fruit salad from a local supermarket at a huge discount – reduced from $11.99 to $2.99. The date was about to expire. I thought it would be a great addition to the snacks I planned to put out for the family New Year’s Eve countdown. Lots of carbs for me, pre-race. And such a deal.

I served the fruit, along with an assortment of other goodies. The fruit tasted a bit “off” – somewhat sour/bitter-ish. I added some sweetener. Still, no one else seemed to care for it. So, little by little, I consumed the entire thing. All by myself.

Note to self :  That was a very stupid idea.

Went to bed shortly after midnight. Woke up 3:30am, feeling like I needed to  vomit. Stifled the urge. Then the cramps hit. Finally got out of bed around 5am.  From there on, I was on the toilet waaay more than off it. Lovely.

Hal woke up at 6:15am, and proceeded to get ready for the race. At 6:50am (5 minutes past our pre- planned “depart from home” time) I was still on the toilet – and not sure I dared leave my new “closest buddy”.  Hal and I finally managed to leave the house around 7. Forget pre-race nutrition/hydration – I didn’t dare try anything to eat or drink except a little watered-down OJ, which I sipped verrry slowly. (by race start, I only had consumed a total of 6 ounces)

Four more trips to a bathroom, a short trial warm-up, and the race started. I began to run, not sure how long I would last.

Maggie passed me, offering kind, supportive words. (I had shared with her my dubious race state prior to the race.)  Joe Howell and his cohorts passed me – I decided to do “the parasite thing” and draft off them.

That turned out to be a very good strategy (Thanks, Joe!)  I tuned out everything except Joe’s regular footsteps. Ran at what felt like an easy pace. The main physical symptom I was aware of was a pervasive, low-level nagging nausea that threatened to get worse if I pushed it. So I just hung on.

Finally, less than  .5 miles left. I picked up my pace a bit. The nausea started to build. But, surprisingly – considering how I hadn’t eaten anything, and had had “the trots” for several hours by that time – my energy level was fine. Even almost kicked the finish.  Felt kind of sick after the race – and the cramps came back – so Hal took me home.  Didn’t get to watch the 10K finishers or stay for the raffle.

So my time wasn’t a PR.  Not even under the 7 minute per mile pace.  But I achieved my first negative split ever. And I will never, ever buy discounted, ready to expire fruit salad again.  So – now – back to the bathroom I go.

I saw Maggie at the GP banquet the other night.  She inspired me to go back and blog the Thanksgiving day race. So here it is:

Late September 2008 After a minor jaw related surgery I had to take 6 weeks off from running or other heavy (make that satisfying) exertive efforts. (Doctor’s orders – with explicit instructions to keep my heart rate under 100 BPM.)  Six weeks! Through to early November! I had to somehow manage to behave myself*. I decided to focus on the Thanksgiving day race.

*Behaving is all relative, isn’t it?

Weeks 1 and 2 Didn’t feel very good. Couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t essentially liquid. Sleeping was difficult. Couldn’t talk clearly. And talking hurt! Believe it or not, not being able to run wasn’t one of my biggest issues! Started walking during week 2.

Week 3 I was walking 4-6 miles per day, usually with a heart rate monitor that I glanced at occasionally.  The kicker was – turns out couldn’t get my heart rate over 100 anyway, on a flat – had to do steep hills.  Too bad I live near Hope Ranch – within easy walking distance of so may unavoidable (heh) hills.

Week 4 Walking distance up to 6-9 miles per day.  I ventured out to More Mesa.  Forgot my heart rate monitor. Oh, well.  Did the stairs. Now that was fun!  Next day, did More Mesa stairs again with heart rate monitor.  Ooops! Heart rate up to 140.

Week 5 I really wanted to run!  Tried to sneak in a little shuffle-jogging – at a 14 minute mile pace.  My heart rate stayed below 110. Cool! But still slightly boring.

Week 6, day 1 I decided I had had enough of this behaving stuff. Tried a short 3-mile run. Felt my heart pound, my incisions pulse.  Ooops again!

Week 6, day 2 - did a long shuffle-jog at 14 minute pace instead of having another go at a real run.  6.8 miles!  A personal distance record  for the past 20 years – if you count it as running..at a 13-14 minute mile pace, it took forever. But still cool.

I managed to keep myself somewhat in check, and November 8th, after the 6 weeks was over, and with the official doctors okay, attempted to get back to real running.  It was discouraging at first – although I had covered distance those past few weeks, I had not done any intensity, and my body intensity meter was all screwed up! My first time out, I tried a short run at what felt like a very fast pace – and was mortified to see I was running 10 minute miles!  Ouch!  I resolved to make myself compete in the Thanksgiving race, even if my performance still sucked!

One good thing – my distance shuffle-jog seemed to have carried over.  I was able to do two runs a week, one of them being record “long”  (for me )  5 to 6.5 miles! – and the other “short”  (2 to 4 miles) – and my speed gradually picked back up – soon a 9 minute pace felt fast, then an 8 minute pace. . .I wanted ot get down to 7 minute miles – my 5K race times are generally a little under that.  Pipe dream?  maybe. . .

Thanksgiving Day, I waited nervously for the start of the race.  Only three weeks of running to prepare – and totally unsure of what to expect.  This would be the “longest distance” real race I’d entered since the 1980s (not counting Chuck’s). Plus, my body was still relatively untested since my layoff. . .I spotted Maggie – who unbeknownst to me, was coming down with a  respiratory infection. She asked how I was doing.  I said “I don’t know.”

The race started.  I looked for Maggie – my sure and steady pacer – someone whose performance I can’t match, but I can strive to match.  She was nowhere in sight.  So I winged it.  Gaaah!

Somehow, I managed to find a good pace.  Maggie’s advice during our last race together (McConnells) kept running through my head like a mantra (“Relax your arms.  Don’t go out too fast.  Relax your arms”)

Feelin' good, and almost done!

For Hal 4 miles is a very SHORT distance to race.

I did it.  And I felt really good!  The 4 miles wasn’t that long, after all!  And I finished in 27:52 – just under a 7 minute pace!

It turned out that Maggie was actually about 10 seconds behind me.  She was having a bad day, in the process of getting sick. . and all the while, I kept thinking she was off in the distance ahead, out of sight. .

So now – the next question – what happens in 2009?  Can I run a little more frequently?  Dare I venture a little farther, distance wise?  Am I brave enough and also smart enough to test my “limits” – and stretch that envelope?

We’ll see!

I missed the NewsPress Half Marathon yesterday.  Congratulations to all who participated or helped! Annie, Aaron, and Todd – impressive times! Really!  Special congrats to Annie – for her amazing comeback this year, after dealing for so long with a painful tenosyovitis in her foot . .

I thought about doing just the 5K portion of the half marathon- like I did last year – but I’m still just coming back from that surgery 6 weeks ago.  I can run again, but not at my typical race times.  I could have done it as a workout. Not trusting myself to limit my efforts, I decided to sit it out.  Didn’t even go help. Shame on me!

I’ve been through this “life drill” many times: You have a set back. Major or minor. You get through it. Then you proceed to re-build what you lost. Slowly. Carefully. Methodically. Patiently. Trying to take pleasure in each small gain. Trying not to compare where you are with where you’ve been. What you are capable of today with what you were capable of before the setback. It can be really difficult not to get impatient – to try too hard – to push too much – all that happens is that you set yourself back even more, and get angry with yourself, your limitations, the frustrating realities of life.

So here I am again.  Slowly working back to where I can race at pre-surgery level. Trying to be methodical, careful, patient. Periodically getting careless, overconfident, and misjudging my body’s tolerance to handle progressions in workout intensity or duration. Dealing with the repercussions. Trying not to allow myself the less than useful luxuries of frustration or depression.

See ya at the Thanksgiving 4-miler.  As a racer(?) – or if not, then a helper. . .