Spending nearly my entire Saturday cleaning house should have tired me out. At midnight, however, I was still wide awake. I wasn’t anxious; I just could not sleep. I even took two Tylenol PM to attempt to induce sleep. It wasn’t until my youngest, who also couldn’t sleep, joined me in bed that I was able to leave my body for the land of dreams. Just a few hours later, I was awakening for my race preparations and travel to the race.
At 5 AM Sunday morning, just prior to the alarm sounding, I hoped out of bed. I wasn’t nervous about the race itself; I just wanted to be sure that we caught the bus to the start on time. Since I had set out all of my clothes the night before, I just put them on and went downstairs to eat and wait for Cindy to arrive. It wasn’t until we were arriving in San Francisco that I began to get nervous. As we drove down 19th, it felt like a race to get the last parking spots. It seemed that the majority of the cars out were filled with other runners. Having to pass the smaller parking spots, we ended up a half a mile uphill from the bus pickup. We ran down, got in a crazy long line of runners, and later boarded the bus for the start.
The day was clear and sunny. I knew I had made a grave error in choosing my clothing. I had expected the usual foggy, cold weather that San Francisco is known for. There I stood, among runners in shorts and singlet, in my tights and running long sleeved mock tee. “Just a training race,” I reminded myself.
When we first headed out, I felt awkward. I just couldn’t find my groove. Cindy was with me and we made small talk as we went. But while I love to RUN with company, I hate to RACE with company. There is an awareness of the other person that keeps me from totally focusing on myself. You hear their breathing, their steps, and maybe even their thoughts. I feel their discomfort and I just can’t find separation. So when Cindy was heading to the bushes for pee, I decided to hold mine a bit longer. I knew that even if she caught up with me, or passed me, that I would have found my groove in the meantime. I immediately felt 100% better. Less than a mile later was a huge line of porta-potties.
The race took us up and down small rolling hills. I was just too hot, so I peeled off my long sleeved shirt and gradually got used to the cool air. As I headed down the hill toward the Great Highway I was awed with the breath taking view of the ocean. I love California! This part of the race is a long, gentle climb. We run on the chopped up road towards the zoo and then turn around and head back. While it is fun to see the race leaders zooming past, it is easy to feel like all of those people are passing you.
After the turn around, I pick up my effort ever so slightly. Running on more of the shoulder of the road, the path is less torn up. It is easier to enjoy the view. I see the torture in the oncoming runners faces as they continue in the opposite direction. I remember what I felt when I was on that side of the road. I’ve only got 3.1 more miles to run and it feels good knowing this. When I make the turn back towards Golden Gate Park, I come across this young lady who groans that she hopes that she can finish. “Oh, you WILL finish,” I assure her. She is unaware just how close the finish is. I arm her with the knowledge that she has less than a half a mile to go and plow into the hill. I know the course well from here. I pick up the pace even more, and as I turn the corner and head toward the finish line I am already moving as fast as my feet will take me. I finish 1:56.
I found myself slightly disappointed in my finish time. I secretly wanted to beat my 1:50 time from two years ago. I wanted this even though I had sprinted too early in that race as I had thought the finish was at the end of the Great Highway. I had actually run VERY well. I ran, an evenly paced race, dead on at my marathon pace.
Chasing the Carrot
I was running CIM when my sister pointed out a girl, about my age, who was running just ahead of me. “There’s your carrot, Julie. Go get her,” she said in an effort to encourage me to pick up the pace. We were about 20 miles into the marathon and I was not feeling all that good. I was tired and my sister’s cheery, energetic advice was something that I didn’t want to hear, even if it was well meaning. I guess that is why I usually avoid commitments to race with someone.
I have to admit that there are times when chasing a carrot can be beneficial. Today we had an “all hands” meeting where we discussed employee satisfaction survey results and what we can do to improve it. A guy in the back speaks up and says that his direct-reports are chasing a carrot when there isn’t one for him to hand them. Someone in the front says, “who do you want to give you the carrot?” The discussion seems to be going round and round the wrong thing. What is the carrot? Is it imaginary, or is it real? Is it money, monetary gifts, or just a simple thank you? We all want it…just a bit of reward for putting in the extra effort. I just want more recognition for the accomplishments than the disappointments. We all work hard trying to make the difference between success and failure but sometimes the outcome is out of our control.
After the meeting I check my email and head to the fitness center for a 3-mile run on the “mill”. For the next 30 minutes, I won’t think of work; I’ll focus on running. I warm up for a mile with my iPod playing another book on tape that I downloaded. I keep it easy and then prepare for a couple Yasso 800s. I know it’s not the same on a treadmill but every little bit counts. I’m putting in just the little extra effort on the chase to Boston ~ my carrot. I AM chasing the carrot and I know that with a bit more tempo runs, mile repeats, and Yasso 800s, I will be crunching away on it very soon.
The Bathrooms Can Wait
If I had planned the weekend out right, I would have completed my housework on Friday. I returned home to find the same clutter, dirty clothes, and dishes awaiting me. Having done such a hard workout, my legs ached. It was a bit surprising because 11 miles is not an exceptionally long distance for me. None-the-less, my legs were feeling it. Perhaps an ice bath would have been more therapeutic, but my hot shower felt so good after today’s a run. I just sat there and let the hot water run down my back and hoped that the mess would be gone by the time I got out. It knew that it wouldn’t. Instead, I had two neighbor kids over for a play date. I started slow. I wiped the counters down, loaded the dishwasher and started it, and put a load into the washing machine. Then I ate something. I was felling a bit light headed. Afterwards, I swept and vacuumed the house. It is now time to cook dinner and finish up the weekend’s homework. The bathrooms can wait until another day, but the house is back into reasonable shape and ready for the abuse of another week.
Go Long
On Sunday morning I got up at 6:00 AM to get ready for my long run. Yesterday was a comical event (if you have amusement). I was getting set for another chase run. YaYa’s bike had a flat. Wonderful! I didn’t have time to mess with it, so I just pumped it up and hoped for the best. When we arrived at the trail, I took the bike out of my Mommy-Van only to find that it was low on air (but not flat). By then YaYa wanted to ride so we headed out on the trail. I could hear the tire getting lower and lower on air. At mile 1 we turned back. At 1.5 miles, I had YaYa get off and we both ran back to the van. We loaded up and headed for the nearby track where I got the balance of my 6 mile pace run. 6.03 miles (51 minutes).
At 7:15 AM I arrived at the park for today’s run. A smile came to my face as I drove through the gates. The sun was just coming up; fluffy white clouds and fog hovered over the hills. This is my favorite place to run. The plan for today’s run is 11 miles. I met two friends and we set off at an easy pace. The biggest hill on the trail is about 2 miles up. It’s steep and tough. I watched as my friends gradually got farther and farther ahead. My breathing wasn’t easy. I wished that I was running alone so that I wouldn’t be worried about my pace in relation to theirs. My heart rate was up and my breathing was rapid. I walked for a couple of minutes and then resumed my running. At the top of this hill Cindy and Mark were waiting for me. “Take your time,” Cindy says with a smile. I have to admit that I wanted to flip her off. I felt so slow and humbled. When I finally reached the top, I glanced at my watch and found that I was right on target for the pace that I like to run this route. I felt better knowing that and considered having given up 1 pint of my blood probably did have an affect on my ability to run up the hill with ease.
The remainder of the run felt good. After the big hill, the rest of the run rolls up and down. It’s beautiful here. We went 8 minutes past our 4.75 mark and then turned back. 11 miles (1:40:43)
Post-Donation Running
The email went out yesterday notifying us of the urgent need for blood. Today, I arrived at the office to find my colleagues contemplating when to go down to donate. I’ve often given blood, but more recently have let the blood drives come and go without getting a drop of my A+ blood. This morning, however, I let them take a pint of my blood.
Later in the day, I passed through the cafeteria with my lunch in tote – a nice salad and chicken lime soup. Some of my colleagues get my attention as I head upstairs to drop my lunch at my desk before heading to the fitness center. I probably shouldn’t have been taken back by their concern for me working out after donating blood this morning. The Post Donation Instructions note, Don’t do any strenuous activity or exercise, heavy lifting or other heavy use of your arms for the next 24 hours. But how one defines “strenuous” is varied depending upon the individual. For me, running 3 miles at an easy pace is not at all strenuous, and that is just what I did. No weights, no speed work, just me and my iPod.
Beginning my workout a bit later than usual, I saw the usual fitness center goers, as they were finishing up their daily exercise. I choose my treadmill and set it for a very easy pace with the plan to keep my heart rate less than 160 with my 10% loss in circulating blood volume. I resumed the play list that I ended my last run with. Familiar songs played and I noticed that, at the much slower pace, I felt the urge to increase the speed. I resisted. It was fun, listening to music, reading the text from the TVs in front of me, and moving along. Towards the end of the workout, YaYa’s sleepy voice said, “Go Mom, You’re almost there”. This is a mix of YaYa’s voice that DD mixed with some fast beat music for me. It makes me smile and encourages me on the run. Yes, I am almost there. Pretty soon 3.1 miles done, I head back to my office.