Winter Marathon Query

I am queuing up Part Two of my little "Aching Backs" series. This will be the one in which I detail my physical therapy program as it stands right now.

First, however, I need some educated opinions.

Right now, I am signed up for this October 21 race:

I'm not exactly training for it yet, but I guess I'm training to train.

Though I may not be allowed to run at all until mid-July, I'm still planning to run Detroit. But it's probably not realistic to think I can run it fast enough to beat January's Houston Marathon PR of 3:53:28 by at least 10 minutes--which is what I need to do to qualify for the Boston Marathon in 2014.

So I need to sign up for at least one more marathon before I turn 40 on January 21. Given what's going on with my back, BQing before that date (which was the entire premise of this blog) may not work out. But I'm not going to quit trying. (And if I don't make it this winter, I'm STILL not going to quit trying, so don't think that of me!)

My question is this: WHICH winter marathon should I sign up for?

As a sub-4-hour marathoner, I am granted early and guaranteed registration for the Houston race next year on January 13, a week ahead of my birthday. Early registration opens next Tuesday. But a lot of smart runners are signing up for the California International Marathon, a month and a half earlier on December 2. Looking at the course, it's tempting:

Hard to beat that profile....

Here are the pros and cons:

Houston Pros:

1) Six extra weeks to recover from Detroit and train
2) Familiar course--this would be my third time at it
3) Lots of friends in town; the support in January was amazing

Houston Cons:

1) Remember that weather in Boston the other week? Yeah, that's quite possible in Houston, even in January.
2) Not as fast a course
3) I'd have to train over Christmas again; I was hoping not to have to do that this year

CIM Pros:

1) Great course--see that chart again; according to Runners' World, it's in the top five of Boston Qualifiers
2) Good chance of nice weather; average temps are in the 50s
3) No training over Christmas

CIM Cons:

1) Not as much recovery/training time after Detroit
2) I know no one in Sacramento, though I'm sure I'll know some other bloggers running it

Of course, I could sign up for both races. This is also tempting. But it's a lot of money out of my family's till, and I'm not sure I can expect to do three marathons in four months and do any of them well. With my back an unknown variable, I need to do the right thing with this.

What's your opinion?

Race Report: Houston Marathon

I slept well the night before the Houston Marathon, images of the Olympic Trials races still spooling around in my head like a movie reel. Kathy and I set the alarm for 4:30 a.m. and 5 a.m. (just in case we had a hard time shaking off sleep—turns out we didn’t need the second alarm).

I took my accustomed pre-race shower and shaved my legs like I always do, being careful not to nick my ankles with the cheap disposable plastic razor I had brought (two days earlier I had skinned both ankles with that thing). We hung out in our hotel room until about 5:20. It was really nice to be staying so close to the convention center and starting line because we were able to take care of private business in our own clean flushing toilet.

We arrived at the convention center just in time for Mass. Mass was crowded—lots of Catholic runners in Houston, I guess. The priest, pointing skyward, called his homily “a brief word from our sponsor,” eliciting laughs from the nervous crowd. I couldn’t hear much of the rest of it because there was loud music echoing from somewhere else in the giant concrete space. They somehow managed to distribute communion to the crowd, and the service was over in a half-hour. We both realized we had to go to the bathroom again, so we went back to our hotel room (like I said, convenient!).

On the way back to the start area, I heard someone call my name—and there was my friend Jenne, who I know from library school!! It was so nice to see another friendly face! She had driven all the way down from Huntsville, where she is now a professor, to see me run. She was supposed to be in the 5K that morning, but hadn’t realized there was no race-day packet pick-up. But she came anyway just to cheer for me. The three of us worked our way into the steady river of runners exiting to the streets where the marathon and half-marathon starts were.

Jenne got a shot of Kathy and me pre-race. Yes, Jill, I used my Rock Canyon Half shirt as my throw-away!

I said good-bye to Jenne inside the convention center, and outside said good-bye to Kathy. My corral assignment was “A” (this was the case for everyone who predicted a sub-4 time). I was still clutching the bib in memory of Sherry Arnold that Caroline had sent me to wear on my back during the race. Jenne had located some safety pins, but there hadn’t been time to pin it inside. I saw Amanda, the other Boulderite with a press pass whom I’d met the prior day at the Trials finish line. She and her friend were headed to the half-marathon A corral. We chatted a bit about the Trials and then all wished each other luck. (I late found out Amanda ran her half in something like 1:26. Ah, Boulder!)

The scene at the entry to the A corral was a mob. I stood in the group for a while and chatted with two nice women, who pinned the bib on my back and asked me questions about Sherry. One of them turned out to be a reader of Beth’s. I think we all had a catch in our throats. But I left them because I really wanted to get into the A corral and find the 3:50 pacers. I wended my way through the crowd. Once I was actually inside the corral, things opened up. I found the pacers easily and hit the port-a-can one last time before the start (port-a-cans in the corral! Great idea!). Bill Rodgers and Frank Shorter both spoke over the PA system. Shorter called it “no excuses weather.” It was cool but not cold, maybe in the low 50s, with some cloud cover. Perfect indeed!

Through all of this, I felt stomach-clenchingly nervous. And when that gun went off, I cried a little, just to myself, thinking of the past year and of Sherry and of the Trials runners (especially Dathan Ritzenhein and his little girl) and of Jenne driving all that way and of everyone who sent me good wishes and of how I want to qualify for Boston. I knew today would be a good day, but I wasn't sure it would be Boston good and I was worried I would disappoint many people. It was such a relief to start running. It felt familiar and safe.

I had found the 3:50 pacers, but by using the bathroom that last time I had lost them again. I was OK with that because I wanted my first mile to be slower than they were planning to go. It turns out that in the first couple of miles I was behind the 4-hour pacers, too, because I passed both of them in miles three and four. I’m starting to be skeptical of pace groups. I had a great experience in New York 2005 with my pacer, but the groups in the Top of Utah Marathon started too fast, as did the groups in this race (I ended up passing the two 3:50 pacers in miles 22 and 25, too, even though my finishing time was three minutes slower than they were supposed to be posting). I know pacers are human, too, and anyone can have a bad day in a marathon, but still…..

The first few miles went quickly. The crowd support throughout the course was amazing, and there were lots of bands as well. My favorite, in the early miles in the Heights neighborhood, was playing some kind of bluegrassy gospel stuff that I would have stopped to listen to longer if it had been a different kind of day. My legs were feeling good—I noticed no talking from the ankle cuts, my left glute and hamstring or my calves as we ran past Rice University (my alma mater, where the Marching Owl Band, or MOB, was playing). The only physical issue I experienced the whole race was sore feet. I had been expecting that as it had happened on long runs too. It’s time to switch back to my prior shoe brand, Asics—I think they just work best for me.

Not sure where this was....

Soon after Rice, we entered the West University neighborhood where my aunt and my friends Colin and Mimi live. Colin and Mimi and their two daughters, it turns out, were the first friends I saw on the course. They were handing out oranges and bananas just after the half-marathon mark. Mimi called my name and I was rocketed out of my trance. I got a glimpse of her face and saw their two girls, then saw Colin a little way down. I’m sure I ran 10 seconds per mile faster for a long time after seeing them. It was a great boost (even though I didn’t take an orange, as their daughter Alexa pointed out to me later).

I was still feeling good along the stretch by Highway 59 and into the Galleria shopping area, but by mile 18 it was getting a little harder to hold my pace. I thought about the Top of Utah marathon, where I bonked hard at mile 18, and realized I felt nothing like that bad this time. I kept my legs churning and the doubts passed. It happened again around mile 20, and I told myself that moods and sensations change in the marathon. How you feel now isn’t necessarily how you’ll feel later in the race, even in the last crazy miles. It worked, and I kept on trucking.

Heading into Memorial Park, where many Houston-based runners train, I saw my friend Amy from Denver. She was in town visiting her brother and had made a sign for Kathy and me. I didn’t see her or it until she called my name (which I’m glad she did loudly because I’d put my headphones on as planned at mile 18). When I saw her, I inadvertently called out Kathy’s name, because I was reading the sign and because, well, I was in my trance again, but then I corrected myself and called out “Amy!” She snapped a photo of me, and I moved on, again having gotten a huge lift. No one’s ever made a sign with my name on it for a race before! Thanks, Amy!

Amy's wonderful sign! Just what you need around Mile 20!

Here's the pic Amy got.

Jenne was the next friend on the course. She had walked all the way from downtown to her spot at the entry to Allen Parkway, and she was working a shiny hula hoop. Again, a lift right when I needed one, and I felt ready to tackle the Allen Parkway hills. They aren’t really hills, just spots where the road dips under overpasses, but as many of you know, any incline in the last miles of a marathon feels like a mountain. So I prepared to bear down for them.

And you know what? They were over before I knew it, and….they weren’t that bad. I knew then that I could finish this race strong.

But I had one more happy surprise: my friend John! He and Rosann, his wife and also an old friend of mine, live near the early miles of the course, but didn’t put two and two together in time to see me go by at that point. So he had driven up to catch me at about mile 24. He told me later I looked much better than I did in my prior showing in this race in 1997, when he’d helped change my shoes in the freezing rain. It's always nice to hear, on the doorstep of your 39th birthday, that you're looking better at any moment than you did at almost 24! Seeing him gave me one more giant boost, and that along with the sight of downtown Houston’s buildings getting taller and taller and a slight cool breeze sent me sailing toward the finish.

The finish line was the same as the one for the Trials the day before. Its bleachers were lined with cheering spectators, and as I rounded the turn for the last tenth of a mile, I thought of Shalane Flanagan finishing her race the day before in that same spot with that grin on her face, and I broke out into my own huge smile. My Garmin put my finishing pace for that last bit at 7:50. I got my medal and had a finish photo taken before I headed into the convention center for a needed massage, some Honey Milk and an ice cream sandwich.

The final result? 3:53:28, a six-minute personal record good for 2,150th place overall out of 7,649 finishers (only 28% were ahead of me), 509^th woman (only 18% were ahead of me) and 95^th in my age group of 35-39 year-old women (again, only 18% ahead of me). Data from the race say that I finished ahead of 66% of male runners, and that in the last 4.5 miles I was passed by 29 people but passed 183.

Here are what my splits looked like:

In the end, I’m most proud of my relatively even pace throughout the whole race and that I never seriously considered walking or slowing appreciably (though I did slow after the 25K mark--will have to work on that!). This was true even when it became obvious that I wasn’t going to qualify for Boston. Because when I DO qualify for Boston, that steadiness will be a key skill set that will get me there. And I am glad I didn't give in to negative thoughts.

Houston Marathon: Quick Recap

I will write a real blog post later--I'm about to go eat some serious Mexican food with John and Rosann, some of my best friends from college/Houston days.

I'm still on my journey to a Boston Qualifying time, but the Houston Marathon was another step in the right direction: a six-minute PR, lowering my best marathon time to 3:53:28. When the sun rose this morning, I thought I would weep at the finish with anything less than a BQ by 39 (my 39th birthday is this coming Saturday). But there's a reason I gave myself two years for this goal. I look at where I was one year ago and feel proud and grateful. The BQ will come, perhaps this fall.

Race recap to come! Thank you to everyone who supported me in person and virtually for this race. I thought of all of you by name as I ran. I did not walk. I did not bonk. I ran strong. Thank you again. And I'm looking forward to planning my Spring of Speed--more on that to come, too.

Goals

I have a lot to say about the Olympic Marathon Trials, but I'll have to post it later. There were times during the day today when I did forget, but the fact remains that I have a marathon to run tomorrow! :^)

My goals for the race are:

C) Bad-day goal: beat my PR of 3:59
B) Realistic goal: run a 3:50 or better
A) Dream goal: run a 3:45 or better and qualify for the Boston Marathon

My plan for the race is: line up with the 3:50 pace group at the back of the A corral (I am number 5119 if you want to track me). Run slow and smart at first--no too-fast starts this time. Check in with my body and mind periodically to see if I have it in me to speed up from there--and if so, run down the dream. If I can run a smart race, I'll have checked another lesson off my list, no matter what my time at the finish.

I certainly haven't lacked for inspiration. This is my first charity marathon (it's not too late to donate to the Houston Food Bank--and thanks again to those of you who already have). My training has been solid, if not spectacular, and I'm proud of my long runs. I've spent lots of time with family and friends this weekend (thanks Kathy, Aunt Terzah, Colin, Mimi, Dimity, Sarah, Laura, Amanda and all the wonderful new bloggers I met today). I will be seeing more friends later (Jenne, Amy, John, and Rosann). I watched some amazing runners contend in a fantastic race. I've shaken hands with Olympians (most recently Adam Goucher, about 20 minutes ago, here in the hotel lobby). And I am proud and humbled to run this race for my cousin Katy (serving in Afghanistan), for my friends Max and Angela and in memory of Sherry Arnold, the Montana teacher you've all been reading about this week. I also want to run well for my husband, Dan, and my kids, Will and Ruth, who have put up with lots of months of long runs and running talk.

I'm ready. It's time to do this.

Marathon Weekend: Part 1

This photo pretty much describes my mood tonight:

From the firework show after the Trials opening ceremony

During the firework display, I shook Joan Benoit Samuelson's hand.

Here's how close I was to her!

Others around me were swarming her for pictures together. I decided just to ask for a handshake, for luck on Sunday. Her hand was small, cool and dry, the hand of an Olympic Gold Medalist, one of the pathfinders for all women who like to run marathons.

Joan, Frank Shorter, Meb, and Deena were all gathered, along with many of the athletes running in tomorrow morning's Olympic Marathon Trials, for the opening ceremonies. I broke down and bought myself an iPod Touch last night, so for once I was actually able to take some pictures.

Yep, that's Meb!

Meb and Deena in the chairs reserved for the athletes; each one got a little flag and a bag of snacks

That's Frank Shorter in blue.

I wasn't able to avail myself much of my media pass during the day today. Before I was granted the credential, I had volunteered to work a 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. shift as a greeter and direction-giver outside the convention center where packet pick-up was being held. All of the press conferences were happening during this time, but it's not at all noble to renege on a volunteer commitment. And I found out later that my team captain had six no-shows for the shift, so I'm really glad I showed up.

In my neon yellow "Ask me" vest

It was also just fun being an answer person (I AM a reference librarian for a reason). Runners are such nice people, and it was nice to chat with a couple of Houston Marathon veterans about the course. There was plenty to keep my mind off the Big Task looming for me on Sunday.

But first, there is tomorrow--the morning of the Trials. Kathy is volunteering in the medic area (read her post about that) and has to be there at 6:30 a.m. The men's race starts at 8 and the women's at 8:15. I will hopefully meet up with some other bloggers for the start, and after that I plan to be lurking in the press area at the finish. And I'll definitely attend the winners' press conferences.

That's the Trials start line in the background and my media credential around my neck. And yes! I'm wearing a down vest over a sweater! In Houston!

Speculation is that a course record or two could be set tomorrow. The weather is almost too perfect to be believed: I was actually teeth-chatteringly chilly during my volunteer shift. I can hardly wait to get out there and watch the action. As I type, I'm sitting in the hotel lobby. The athletes in the Trials are doubtless upstairs with the lights out (which is where I'll be going soon), but there's a party vibe in the lobby among those of us who don't have to race until Sunday.

It's like Mardi Gras for runners!

There is one sadness in the midst of all of this: the death of Sherry Arnold. My friend Caroline has created a bib to wear this weekend in her half-marathon in Sherry's honor. I plan to print and wear this bib myself. For Sherry's family and friends. For women everywhere who deserve to run free (and alone if they wish) without fear.

Recap of Mario Lopez Eating: Week 1

Sorry to frighten you with that picture, but I can't resist any reference to the 80s. Or I guess early 90s. I got a funny note from my sister-in-law, who's a California girl, talking about Mario's sleazy tomcat ways and how ironic it is that he's writing books for families. I'm not really surprised. But hey! I still like the book (and I'm using the library copy for now, so I haven't lined his pockets yet, though I probably will buy it).

Before I fill you in on the scintillating details of my family's first week on the Mario Lopez Extra Lean Family eating plan, let me put in another request for donations to my Run for Food/Houston Marathon fundraiser for the Houston Food Bank. Click here to donate.

OK! So...the week went well. I had gone on a mondo shoppning excursion Saturday night, stocking up with most of the things we would need for the entire week. This itself was a big change from the piecemeal grocery shopping we usually do, which is to say, Dan and I calling or emailing each other at about 4:30 p.m. with the "Any ideas for dinner?" question and then one of us beating a hasty path to the store ahead of picking up the kids. Having done the shopping was g-r-e-a-t. It made all the evenings so much less stressful. We did have to make one other trip on Thursday, to pick up some more fruit (my kids eat more fruit than Mario predicted--a good problem to have)...but I stayed out of the (expensive) organic grocery store across the street from my library all week.

The other great result: I brought all of my meals and snacks to work. I had all the kids' meals and snacks ready to go at home on the days I was with them (I can't tell you how many afternoons I've just taken them to a coffeeshop because I have nothing to give them--way too much expensive pumpkin bread consumed). And no dinners were left to chance. We didn't eat out once, any of us.

We are now geared up for Week 2. I went on this week's mondo shopping excursion last night, and this morning made a big pot of turkey chili for dinners tonight and Wednesday and some quinoa for a salad on Tuesday night (Sunday is Mario's prep day). Last night, the plan fell apart a bit as we went over to some friends' house for dinner, and I had FAR too many chips with guac, chips with bean dip and chicken enchiladas that were decidedly NOT extra lean, as well as too many of Mario's "lean" brownies (which were my contribution to the evening--and mmm, they were good). But we don't do that very often, so I figure if that's the worst I did, it will be OK.

Has my leanness (or lack thereof) been affected yet? Doubtful. I will check in with my bodyfat scale on Tuesday morning after my run and report back. Tuesday is scale day for me. I generally weigh myself both on my own at home (thus getting the bodyfat reading) and also on the one at the gym after weight training.

Regardless of what the scale says, trying this out has been great so far on a number of other fronts. I love having the meals planned, the healthy food we need bought, the guesswork removed, the restaurants and coffeeshops avoided, the spending on unnecessary grocery trips eliminated. I don't love shopping on Saturday nights, but really, since I'm at home with two sleeping kids most Saturdays anyway, it's not like I'm sacrificing great social alternatives.

Bring on more, Mario! Saved by the book!

Houston Marathon: I'm In!

In the wee hours of the morning, as I slumbered in my own bed exhausted after the trip home from Missouri with my sleep-deprived children, I got the email confirming that I had made the lottery cut for next January's Houston Marathon.

This is exciting because not getting in would have entailed finding a much-less-palatable Plan B race. Houston was my first marathon, way back in 1997, and I know the course. It's flat, fast and (usually at that time of year) nice and cool. I also lived there for seven years, four of them when I was in college at Rice University and another three working after that. I have lots of friends in town, some family too, and this will hopefully mean that even though Dan won't be able to come I'll have some people cheering for me.

Two other awesome factors: my friend Kathy also got in--this will be her second marathon (she's running Portland in October)--and the Olympic Trials Marathon is the day before the general race. So we'll have lots of inspiration from watching some of the people on this list vie to make the team that will run in London later next year.

A BQ there would sure be a nice 39th birthday present for me! Anyone else out there running Houston in January?

Last Thoughts on the Reunion

In the end, my high school reunion was a mixed bag. It was great to see people I've kept in fairly good touch with (in particular, my friends Angela, Scott, and Chris and their spouses), and to touch base with some other friends (Amy, Brian, Mike, Alice, Meghan, Laura and others) whom I hadn't seen in a very long time. But I sort of wish that we had all just gone together to a winery on our own. The music at most of the events was too loud (c'mon, we didn't come to dance or over-drink; we came to talk; it's not lame--that's the way it is when you're renewing old ties).

One positive thing I took away from the weekend (besides my 14-mile run!): it's much more interesting to talk about other people than it is to obsess about yourself. My mom has been trying to drill this in me for years, and I'm still learning.

Part of me wanted this to be like a big "so there" to a bunch of people I'm still mad at after all these years (as in, "hey, look at me, I'm thin, fit, *faster* than I was in high school...and I have cute kids, a great husband, a job I like and I live in one of the most beautiful places in the country"). But (gasp) nobody really cared. And you know what? I'm OK with that. I don't have to say "so there" to anyone. Living well is the best revenge, if any of us need revenge at all. And I'm happy to say that the people who might have a few "so theres" for me all seem to be living quite well, too, thank you very much.