Wednesday, September 10, 2014

A three for one! All the races.

Since I haven't done a race report in quite some time I thought I'd really make this special by doing a THREE in one!

First off.
The Maine Mile. 
I had no clue how fast I might be. I hoped for sub 7. I was thinking that if I really got crazy, that sub 6:30 might be possible but that sounded like a lot of work. Regardless, I was actually quite excited for this event and the weather was spectacular, which was awesome. I had already done my normal workout that morning, and was pretty happy about the 7:30 PM start since running late is my jam.

(Writing about a one mile race takes longer than running it.)

Eric and I lined up with our friends (Danielle, Carrie, Ward and Wade who are basically the same person) Per the norm Danielle and I contemplated bailing, but knowing that the pain would be brief we soldiered on. #sobrave
Eric and I were not quite as late to the party as it appeared, we arrived unusually early and had strolled around and actually managed a several mile warm up. We are clearly on the cusp of being serious race contenders. 





The gun went off an I took off quite briskly, only to find myself DEAD fucking LAST.
You think I kid? Well I do not. There was not one person behind me for the initial surge.
I looked around somewhat dumbfounded by the way that things had uncontrollably escalated. I actually felt like time had slowed and that I was in my own bizarre personal space bubble of extreme slowness, where all my limbs moved at a speed of exaggerated sluggishness.  

I was like "shit". However, I knew that it isn't in my personal best interest to go out habanaro only to die 3 point 2 feet later, so I basically maintained the same pace throughout, finishing in 6:13.
Once I overcame the feeling of extreme leisure I understood that I was seriously running so fast. SO FAST!!!! How does anyone run faster than a 6:13??? Jeesh. 

So fast that the camera can't even keep up. Pshhhhhhh.
Good enough. I don't make a habit of running that fast EVER, for ANY reason so I'm pleased. Just off the damn podium but I couldn't have run any faster! (the thing is, I was instantly fine and recovered which made me wonder if I could have run faster- but I really do not believe I could have!)
I want to do this again. I really had a great time and I felt spectacularly fast, similar to an Olympic sprinter. (shut up. let me have my dream!)

Prizes! I love PRIZES!!

Moving on to 5 days later.
My first 5 mile race EVER!
Eric and I decided to run the Kick out mesothelioma 5 miler in Portland. I was wishing for a speedy number of miles greater than 1 and since kicking mesothelioma in the face seems commendable we decided to participate.

The good part about this race was that it was for a good cause on a not too hard course.
The bad part is that nobody knew where it started, once we started nobody knew where to go, and Erica Jesseman showed up to win which is never good because she is basically the best female runner in Maine. (and I'm kidding- she's great. an it's great that the awesome local runners go out to support good causes. Oh, and I'm NOT kidding that she is one of the best female runners in Maine...)

So, yeah. We all started and we watched Erica Jesseman and a few others fade into the distance while the rest of us got knocked down by gale force winds, sweated to death in the humidity and (if you are me) literally had to grind to a halt several times, unsure as to where to go. Totally lost, FML.
I decided to look at those moments as nice breaks....

I ran a brisk pace none the less (35:51 for a 7:07 pace) and basically hit the puke zone hard.
I am the most disgusting person who ever lived.
I don't think I would have run so damn quickly but I knew I was in 3rd and the 4th place woman was absolutely breathing down my neck. So run hard I did, and puke hard I did. Yuck.

Before the projectile vomiting began.
My goal in life for my next racing adventure was to run slowly enough to avoid projectile vomiting everywhere. I can't take it, so repulsive!

So anyways...
THE FREEPORT HALFFFFFF with HILLLLLSSSSSSS
All along thru this sprint zone madness I knew that I had the Freeport Half on September 7th. I chose this race because it looked pretty damn hilly- a decent lead up to MDI in October and a nice opportunity to see if my no plan training plan is working out or failing completely.

After a few days of high temps and high humidity I was not disappointed when the temps were in the mid 60's and the humidity had dropped.

Believe it or not, I had a pretty clear plan of how I wanted to run this race. I was aiming to finish on legs that did not feel tired- I wanted gas left in the tank. At no point did I wish to feel like I had hit the wall, and at no point did I want to feel like I was pushing a 5k pace like a dumbass. My goal was a 1:42-1:48 finish, and to avoid vomiting. I really, REALLY did not feel like puking up my toes ANY more.

Eric and I arrived at a decent hour (and Eric went on to place 4th in the 5K!!!! He's fast and attractive and funny. I'm basically the luckiest girl ever! *gush* *swoon*)
OK. Anyway. We had to run to LL Bean to buy some body glide because omg guess what, I do NOT have #thighgap so I chafe, and since that is not enjoyable to anyone, bodyglide is the answer to my chapped ass prayers.
On the way back to the start area I noticed that YET AGAIN there was Erica Jesseman and her band of blue singlet-ed Dirigo RC speedsters. JESUS!!! It's like they are tracking my every MOVE!!!!!
(I'm kidding. When you are the best runner in the state, probably prepping to win Hartford, or Chicago, or NYCM you haul ass out to win tough little races like Freeport. Which she did. Mad props.) Anyway, there was actually a start line, signage and people giving directions at this race so in very little time we had lined up and were ready to GO!

The gun went off and the crowd tore away, ready to win the 400 meter race. 
It's like my new thing.
The race starts and immediately I am: DEAD. FUCKING. LAST.
At least in a half marathon situation I have my act together and know that all is not lost.
Alone. All alone.


I started at a reasonable pace, I maintained a reasonable pace, I passed many, I was not passed at all and I succeeded in my race plan.
1:43:54 finish on a pretty damn tough course makes me happy.
It got warm, but a pretty nice day overall. The hills were relentless (which is what wanted) I did not do a great job snacking- I completely forgot to cram a handful of eatables in my pocket. Apparently, this was my first race ever....
I can run a half on no food but I felt like garbage after. Hello again GI issues. No vomiting but good grief, the past two races have been a nasty tough of reality in the "I feel like shit" department.My legs felt decent- maybe more tired than I would have liked but not totally cashed by any means, my mindset was good but my belly was complete junk. UGH!!!
First world problems. "I have an expensive time consuming hobby that makes me crap my pants and ruins my pedicure, noooooooooooooo!!!!!"
But really. Gross. This time, I do blame my silly lack of snack preparation.
Or maybe I am just destined to barf and shat my way to success. We shall see. 
Running to the porta potty. I mean finish. 


So that wraps up a few fun weeks of racing with a few not so fun GI issues. While I feel that I am indeed on track, I know I have some things to ponder for the next few weeks and some good stuff to work on.


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