Tobacco Road Race Report and First 1/4 Year Review

There are lots of cliches I've been going over in my head when I think about my race experience yesterday at the Tobacco Road Marathon in Cary, NC. "You win some, you lose some." "It doesn't matter if you fall down, its whether you get back up." "When the going gets tough... " We all know them all. And yes, they all apply here.

This race was my 6th marathon this year. To be exact, it was my 6th full in 11 weekends. I have this terrible habit of pushing my threshold until I find my absolute limit. This usually results in an injury - stress fractures, overtraining, tendonitis, etc. Thankfully, this year I was able to find a limit before an injury stopped me. Instead, I only had a really hard, ridiculously stupid tough marathon. I've come up with a thousand excuses in the last 28 hours as to why, but the end result seems to be the same. I found my limit.

If you read my last post about my New Orleans race, you can probably just take the complete opposite of everything that happened there and apply it to yesterday. The best way I can describe the feeling in my legs was the "heaviness" that I usually feel for the first hour or so of a marathon, that normally works its way out around the 8-10 mile mark. After this part I am in my groove, my pace is steady, and I can oftentimes have a negative split. This time, however, I could never shake this feeling. I remember thinking at mile 12 (yes... mile TWELVE) that something was not right. I was passed by the 4 hour pace group like I was standing still. Since we didn't go into the race with any expectation about a finish time, I expected a repeat performance of my standard pace. Something was definitely wrong.

The course was a "T" shape with a short 2.5 mile to the split, then two long out and backs, then a finish up the same 2.5. The surface of the Tobacco Trail could not have been more perfect. Hard packed gravel for most and a paved asphalt path for part. The best part about this race (second to Danielle's unwavering support and company despite my ill mood, constant complaining, and crawling pace) was the out and back sections because searching for familiar faces kept my mind off the ever-slowing movement of my forward momentum. First we saw Jen and Dan, some friends from GNV, speedsters that finished super fast. Then we saw Jenny, who set a new PR, followed by Michelle and Sylvan (who also PRed). We even ran into Meredith, another local runner who made the trip up north to run. Knowing that at any moment one of our friends might see us was reason enough to keep moving forward with something that resembled a smile. And it worked. No matter how heavy the legs got, we always managed to run in the forward direction. The race organization was great, the aid stations were energetic and stocked, and even the shirts were great. I cannot say enough great things about this marathon.

The finish was a nice long downhill and the last 50 yards was a decent uphill. When we (finally) crossed the finish line I saw our crew cheering and waving. My mom came to meet us and for some reason the tears came (which happens a lot when mom is around to comfort me). After reassuring her I wasn't injured, that I just had a hard race, she followed it up with classic advice, "sometimes that happens". She's a runner too, so she gets it :)

Like I said before, I've come up with a dozen excuses why I bonked this race. Some of them are actually relevant. What I did learn though, was that I can't keep running these races and expect the same results when they're stacked so closely together. At least not yet.

I want to be clear about one thing. The finish time is irrelevant to me for 90% of my races. This is why I probably look at you like you have two heads when you ask me my finish time. With our frequency, most of my marathons are just training runs for the experience and to get me toward my 50 states goal. I usually only "race" 2 a year. So my finish time yesterday wasn't what got me down. I consider it a bonked race because my legs felt like lead the entire time. I never got a second wind (assuming I had a first, which is debatable), I never felt hydrated, and even though the course was flat, I felt like I was running an uphill race for most of it. THIS is the reason I'm disappointed in my performance. My coach works hard to design my plans, I work hard to execute them. When the pieces somehow fall short, its frustrating. The thing about long distance running (especially marathons and beyond) is that there are so many factors that go into play with each circumstance. You can't control for most things. You can only prepare through training and recovery. I will use this frustration to plan better for the future. I have 5 free weekends before we travel to Big Sur for my next marathon and I plan to use them wisely. I'll eat well, train hard, and recover smart.

As always, I owe infinite amounts to my training partner, Danielle, my wonderful Team Hot Legs, my family for being such wonderful and gracious

hosts for our whole group, and my coach for not telling me "I told you so" when he reads this blog posting.

If you need me over the next 6 weeks, I'll be the super focused one pounding the pavement. But I'll still give you a high 5 when we pass. Because at the end of the day, if you don't search for your limit, then how can you imagine your potential?

Run happy, folks!

RNR New Orleans Marathon Race Report

It was brought to my attention that my race report from the RNR Nola (3/4/12) should be posted, as its rather (2 weeks) late. And I agree! Especially before I embark on the Tobacco Road Marathon tomorrow and will surely cloud my post Nola race mind with another experience :)

I have to say, I didn't expect much from New Orleans. I am always excited to explore a new city, one that I haven't been to, and my favorite way to do such exploring is through a long run. I had heard several negative reviews about the city so I definitely had my guard up during packing, preparation and travel. Once again, it was Danielle, Tracy and I set to run. We drove out Friday for a Sunday race. Upon arrival we dumped our luggage at the hotel at 8pm and went exploring. We found Burbon Street without much trouble but could only handle the sensory overload for about a half hour before we retreated to a restaurant for a late dinner. I saw things on that street that will stay in my memory forever - unfortunately. That particular street was, and never will be, the place for me. The rest of the city, however - magnificent.

We woke the next day with a plan of action. We left the hotel and walked down to Cafe Du Monde to experience N'awlins at its finest - with beignets and cafe au laits. It was interesting, crowded, loud, rushed, and absolutely amazing. Set along the water with incredible architectural views as far as you could see, the cloudy/rainy weather didn't even dampen our experience.

After "breakfast" we headed to packet pick-up. Since I was battling some foot pain and wanted to avoid too much walking we grabbed a cab to get us to the Convention Center. Our cab driver was a young guy from Russia who moved to New Orleans "for the weather". He couldn't understand why we came all the way from Florida to run. He asked, "Do you win?" We chuckled and told him that yes, of course, we win all our races ;)

After packet pick-up we found our way back to the hotel in time to meet my cousin, Amanda, who lives in Houma, just north of Nola. She drove us around the beautiful parts of the city including the garden district, and we had lunch. A wonderful afternoon all in all.

Dinner was across the street from our hotel - Mr. B's. THE best shrimp and grits I've ever had, bar none. Totally lived up to all the hype and worth every dime. You should go.

Okay, so on to the actual race (seeing as this is a race report, I suppose...). Race start was 7am. We left the hotel to walk the half mile down just after 6 and got there in plenty of time to rotate through the bathroom line a few times. Weather was perfect, 50 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Shorts, visors, and THL shirts, as usual. Race start was smooth, easy, and we were off. The first 8 miles were on St. Charles Avenue with stunning live oaks hanging over the street, bands playing music every couple miles, and well-stocked aid stations. Around the 11 mile mark I found myself running past the St. Louis Cemetary #3 (the largest in the city and most accessible). That was an amazing view, one that I'll never forget. Soon after we split from the 1/2ers.

Usually when we run these races, especially the races with such a huge percentage of the runners doing the 1/2, we're disappointed by the second half. Understandably, it seems race directors make the first half the more beautiful, scenic, and pleasing part of the race, as there are always so many more people running that part. This course was the first I've run in a long time when I felt the second half was as beautiful, if not more, than the first. We spend miles 16-22 running along Lakeshore Drive, which parallels Lake Pontchartrain. This part was my favorite part of the race. Usually these miles are synonomous with "the wall" but with the views of a lake so large it looked like an ocean, the breezes blowing off said lake, the brilliant sunshine, and the oncoming runners from the out-and-back course design provided constant distraction and appreciation for the sport. I could not have felt better. The foot pain that had been bugging me since Wednesday failed to show its face. Danielle and I ran along this part of the course with ease, smiling and waving at all the fellow marathon maniacs we had met in previous races. In no time we were on the home stretch back around, running around the art museum and down the finish line shoot. We crossed the finish line with the biggest smiles you could imagine. We met up with Tracy soon after, mingled with our maniac friends, and then found the shuttles back to the start line.

I've done a lot of Rock and Roll events over the years. I love Virginia Beach, I love Nashville, I like a few others, but I have never had as wonderful an experience as this one. New Orleans put together a class act of a race, welcomed us runners, treated us like family, and showcased itself well. Seldom do I repeat marathons, especially on my quest to reach my goals, but I absolutely cannot wait to do this one again next year.

10 states down, 40 more to go.