Sunday, January 26, 2014

How You Like Me Now: St. Pete's Beach Recap

It's so funny how races are just...over. I spent weeks training for the St. Pete Beach Marathon Challenge, worried about double sessions, long runs, and getting enough miles on my legs. And now, it's in my rearview mirror.

I think the most remarkable thing about the Marathon Challenge is how unlike a marathon it actually was. Since the milage was broken up across events, I didn't have to allocate an entire weekend to a long run. I didn't have to wake up early just to eat, to make sure I was fueled for an 18 or 20 miler. No ice baths. I was able to walk immediately following a long run. These are all things that aren't really true when I run an actual marathon.

I was also fresh, mentally. I wasn't running the race "just to get training over with".  Now I'm in my recovery period, and I actually want to run again, rather than being so burnt out that two miles sounds like torture.

The itinerary of events were as follows: Saturday - 10K @ 7:15 AM, 5K @ 9 AM, 3.8 miles @ 5PM, Sunday - Half Marathon @ 7 AM.



10K
So this trip down to Florida was cold. That might sound backwards, since right now it's a balmy 4 degrees in Boston. But 43 with a 12 mph headwind is 43 with a 12 mph wherever you go. It probably didn't help that the expected gun time was in the dark. I had to remind myself that I had run in "feels like 14" and through snow, so 43 would be fine (the natives, however, politely disagreed).

This was my 3rd time running the 10K, and the course was the same as it's always been: out and back, and then you run past the finish line, for about 3/4 of a mile, to a turn around, and come back. Into the wind. That last 3/4 of a mile into the wind is soul-crushing and unforgiving. Knowing all this, and the fact that I an additional 20 miles of racing after that, I decided to dog it a bit.

I spent the first mile, like I do in all personally anticipated races, letting it sink in that it was happening, that my quest had started. And then I took it easy-ish, with 9:45 miles, almost on the dot, every mile. It was the same twists and turns, the same headwind. The most notable difference for me was how strong my legs felt; normally when I run the 10K, I feel the wall at 4 miles. I don't know if it's because of how many more miles I had on my legs, or the fact that I was running about 30 seconds slower than I normally run that race (probably a little of column A, a little of column B), but this was the most unremarkable race of the series for me, with a 1:00:15 finish.

5K
Since it had warmed up to 50-something, I changed into my two power shirts: my 2009 Boston Marathon shirt (easily one of my most prized possessions), and my Next 26 t-shirt.

When the gun went off at 9:30, I felt GOOD. Like...really, really GOOD. This wasn't too weird, since usually the second run of my doubles was always stronger and faster. So as I coasted along miles 1 and 2 around 9:45s (on the dot, again), I knew this was the race I could lay it all out. The beach run was a non-factor to me while I was training, and I knew the half was going to be on trashed legs one way or another, so I might as well.

So I upped my turnover, and I raced. I mean, I RACED. I picked off person after person, closing the gap, passing them, an never looking back. It was the stretch of road I had visualized in my training: the flat, final straightaway that is lined with palm trees and kitchy beach shops. I had literally DREAMED this moment while I prepared for this race. I took over 40 seconds off of my 3rd mile, and then turned the corner to the finish, and "dropped the hammer" for the last tenth. My legs felt a little like jell-o. I kind of felt like I was going to puke a little bit. I felt ALIVE. It was one of my highest runner's highs yet. I forgot what it was like to finish something that strong. Even writing about it right now is bringing the high back...that's how epic that was. I finished in 29:21, which is 44 seconds off of my PR.

3.8 mi Beach Run
Ugh. Oh, this run. The seven hours between the 5K and the 3.8 miles were (as expected) stiffening, achy, and sleepy. Even though I wore my compression pants between the races, and tried to eat and hydrate, my legs were going through some WTF as I laced up for my last race.

Since it was on the beach, the views were better than my morning races:




But that wind from the morning? Yeah, it was still hanging around. With nothing (trees, buildings, anything) to slow its roll, we were looking at a tailwind for 1.9 down the beach, and an in-your-face, holding-you-back, make-your-eyes-water 1.9 back. Sand, also, can be very forgiving on your joints, but murder on your muscles. Luckily at that point, everything hurt pretty much equally, so I couldn't distinguish between my joints or my muscles. 



I got down the beach at my pace of the day, 9:45s. There was a family running together, who were excellent pacers. I stayed in their draft and chugged along until the turnaround. Once I headed back, the wind was too much for my headphones, so I took them out, and tried to listen to the waves on the Gulf. At one point, I felt like I was going to boot, but I knew my family (Ma Boots, Pa Boots, my aunt, my uncle, and my 12 year old cousin) were lurking somewhere on the beach to cheer for me, so I had to talk myself out of booting (lest I look like a wimp). With about 100 feet to go, the packed sand turned into loose sand, and everything in the world sucked. My legs were sore, my lungs were sore, I was so OVER running. But I finished in 37:57, without booting (small victories). 

Half Marathon 
I woke up Sunday in my compression pants. My right knee and hip were pretty pissed at me. Mr. Running Boots decided the Friday before the half that he wanted to run the half, and later on decided he'd run with me, rather than just taking off at the start. As they say: misery loves company.

The wind that demoralized on Saturday was no where to be found on Sunday, which was a blessing, since miles 6-11 would have been into the wind. Gun time was 7 AM, so we started in the dark. I actually had to carry my sunglasses with me, because it was legitimately dark. Like..."I wear my sunglasses at night" dark. 



The first 2 miles were in the soft light right before sunrise. At one point, the moon was over the ocean on our left, and the sun was rising on the inter-coastal waterway on our right. Seriously. At the 5K mark, we were running right into the sunrise, and it was epic. 


Around mile 5, we saw these wild parrots sitting on the power lines. It was so cool! How many times in your life can you say that a half dozen parrots were cheering you on? I was running in the 10:20 neighborhood at this point, my legs were tired, of course, and I was just...kind of done running. But around mile 8, with my no-training-on-his-legs Mr, and my caffeinated gummies, I caught a second wind. One of the volunteers at the start line (that we passed again at mile 8) was wearing a 2009 Boston jacket, and it just felt like a sign. From the depths of my mind, one of my biggest accomplishments was on the sideline, watching me power through another tough race. 

That second wind didn't last too long, though, After mile 8, we started on the 10K course again (which I had run twice the day before. Borrrriiinnng.) and around the 10th mile, my brain decided to join my legs and go on strike. I was hurting. I didn't want to run anymore. I had never straight-up run over 21 miles, and here I was at 23+. I knew this feeling would come, and I had run in fear of it while I was training. The fact that it came with only 5K to go, rather that at the 5K mark was victory enough for me.

I didn't walk. I whimpered a little bit. I never went over 11s in my pace. I finished the half, right next to Mr Running Boots, in 2:18:03. Right in the middle of my cluster of half finishes. 



Overall, I ran the marathon challenge in 4:27:14 (which is about 53 minutes better than my actual marathon PR).  And I got 2 medals at the end of the half. 



Lesson learned: take a nap between the first half and the second half of 26.2, and you'll have a pretty OK time.  Check out that hardware!


I'm glad I did this; it felt good to get back into some high volume running, without the mental anguish. I could probably be coaxed into doing a hat-trick race (5K, 10K, half), but I think I'll stick to running one event at a time for a bit. 




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