Half Marathon of the Screaming Thighs

Yesterday I was in fabulous Toledo, Ohio to run the Glass City Half Marathon.  This is the second year I have paid lots and lots of tolls as I drove through Chicago (painful), trekked across northern Indiana (boring) and rambled into Ohio (lots of cops on the turnpike) to test my 13.1 mile endurance in the Glass City.

I love this race.

It's flat, well-run, has plenty of port-a-johns, a great atmosphere, has no confusion about where to go on the course whatsoever, and is an overall beautiful run.  It's also freaking huge, with 2500 people in the half-marathon alone (they also have a 5-person marathon relay and a full marathon), which means I am free from worrying if that woman who just passed me looked like she could be in my age group.  I know I have no chance in hell for any kind of award, so I can just focus on the goal I came with instead of constantly worrying about what everyone else is doing around me.  (I never know why I worry so much about the people that pass me early in a race, anyway; I usually see them again at the end.)

But I am primarily in love with this race because it was my very first half-marathon ever, running in it a year ago.

During that race 365 days ago, I was determined just to have fun, relax, and finish without looking like a complete moron.  So, of course, I started out way too fast for my level of fitness at the time, and ended up with tight screaming thighs by the time I hit the water station at mile 7. ("Screaming Thighs" would be a good name for a band.)  I walked through all of the water stations after that, having a hard time getting going again each time. I eventually had to stop and stretch a few times in mile 10, and began to become very frustrated at my throbbing right toe, wondering if it would ever shut the hell up even though it was my fault for wearing a brand new pair of shoes I had never ever run in before that day.  After my toe starting expressing its displeasure with me, other body parts began to chime in, asking me what the hell I was doing up there making them run for this long dammit.

 But I was still in good spirits, and when I hit the 12th mile marker I started screaming like a crazy woman (because, up until that moment, I hadn't ever run more than 11 miles), mainly shouting "ONE MORE MILE!"  These utterances officially ruined my goal of finishing without looking like a complete moron.  They also earned me some very dirty looks from everyone running around me, who all looked as if they were going to stop, sit down, and start crying if anyone standing still on the side of the road told them one more time "GOOD JOB! ALMOST THERE!"  It was there that I learned that not everyone is jubilant when they near the end of a half marathon.

But I didn't care.  I was happy.  I was excited.  I just paid for the privilege of running 13.1 miles on streets and paths I could run on any other day for free.  But on any other day I wouldn't have received a medal, a mug, or the joy of crossing a finish line and collapsing in a heap afterwards in the middle of the University of Toledo stadium, totally satisfied with a time of 2:12:37.

This year I came to this half with a very different goal in mind.

You see, I've run a lot more since that first half marathon--four more half marathons, to be exact.  And I struggled to run each one in under 2 hours--which I finally did in November of 2011, coming in with a time of 1:57:48.

I needed to know that the first sub-2 hour time wasn't just a fluke. I needed to know I could do it again.

I had put in the time and the training for this year's Glass City Half Marathon, but I found my brain second-guessing my body's capabilities as I plowed my way through the starting line pack of people, meandering my way back towards the 9:00 pace sign.  My goal pace was 8:50, but I was beginning to get scared.  What if I couldn't run that pace for 13 miles?  What if the shin splints that had been plaguing me all week flared up with a vengeance?  What if the slight injury to the ball of my right foot came back to haunt me (caused by stupidly wearing crazy dress shoes to work the week before my half)?  "What if" after "what if" ran through my head as I stood there freezing my ass off in my compression shorts and knee-socks and obnoxiously-patterned purple running shirt, not having had time to do any warm up because I was too busy doing nothing standing in line for the port-a-john.

Then I thought, "Well, what if you freaking NAIL IT?"  At that moment, the gun went off.

The miles flew by this time.  This is probably because I already knew the course, and also probably due to the Garmin Forerunner 305 on my wrist--which I looked at every 3.5 nanoseconds.  I'm surprised I stayed on the course seeing as I barely looked at it most of the time. This describes pretty much what happened every 5 minutes during this race: "Run run run What pace am I at? *checkwatch* I better slow the BLEEP down run run run What pace am I at? *checkwatch* Damn I REALLY have to slow down run run run How many more miles? *checkwatch* Seriously, legs, let's slow down now....."

I was constantly surprised to see that my pace was not 8:50.  It kept hovering at about 8:30.  I willed myself to slow down, but my legs were, as usual, having none of that "slowing down" crap.  I'm glad for that, seeing that when my watch alerted me that I had indeed run 13.1 miles, my time was 1:52:40.  (The course was long at 13.35 miles; my official time was 1:53:47.)  I also realized that my thighs were screaming again, but at least they remained quiet until the end of the race this time around.

But I had freaking nailed it.  Those thighs could scream all they wanted to now.

New Workouts!

I don't know about all you fitness-y people out there, but every once in a while I have to buy some new DVD workouts.  I started my weight-loss adventure using workout DVDs, and they suit my need of "I don't want to go to the gym and show off my extra loose skin from weight loss to multiple strangers." I do stick with the ones I own for quite some time; however, when I start talking right along with the video after having memorized every single word, it's time for a change, baby.

Now, I know some people are all up into the "I refuse to buy these new-fangled fitness DVD workouts because I have Netflix/ExerciseTV/I am really really cheap frugal/I have this gym membership that I purchased but have never used" but I have this compulsive need to own my workout DVDs.  Why?  Because I like to keep my workout DVD family in a constant state of growth, purging the ones I have outgrown (Jillian Michaels, any Tae-Bo workout, and my old Leslie Sansone walking workouts, to name a few victims of my purges) on occasion to make room for my shiny new additions. And because I like to keep the ones I do like forever and ever, amen.  And because I don't own a DVR.

The new additions to my little digital family this time were two Cathe Friedrich DVDs.  Now, I love me some Cathe Friedrich.  I wouldn't call myself a full-blown "Cathlete," but the woman knows what she's doing.  I can honestly say that she has toned me in places that I never thought would ever be toned again; even my husband noticed that I was developing these things called "muscles" in my arms and thighs, and this is a man (whom I love very much) who has a hard time noticing more obvious things, like where the dirty laundry goes (not on the floor) or the fact that I have just finished cleaning the bathroom and he probably shouldn't throw water all over the mirror and get all his little beard trimmings on every flat surface imaginable in the room.

Anyway, back to my new Cathe workouts.  The woman is not afraid to lift heavy, and that's what I like about the two new workouts I did of hers last week (conveniently located on one DVD): Boot Camp + Muscle Endurance.  As a runner, I like to pump some iron at least twice a week, because I believe to be a stronger runner you need strong muscles, especially to power up hills and to maintain proper upper body form when you're tired.  I also like to do weights because I have a thing for lifting weights.  I am woman, hear me lift these two really heavy dumbbells and roar.  If weights are your thing too, then these two workouts are a good investment.

The first workout, Boot Camp, was a pretty good workout.  It consists of eight "fitness cycles," as Cathe calls them, each one starting with some cardio and then moving on to upper- and lower-body weight work, and ending with some core work. (It also consists of the cheesiest background I have EVER seen.  2002 must have been a bad year for workout DVD sets, I guess.)  I loved the weight-work--it was challenging and effective.  The core work consisted of moves that I have never experienced before.  Laying a heavy medicine ball on your side while doing side plank lifts?  Awesome.  However, the cardio left me wanting....specifically, it left me wanting her not to do a few really cool moves, have some extra cardio time, and then fill the rest of that time with jumping up and down.  I had had enough of jumping up and down after the 5th cycle.  However, the weight and core portions of each cycle are so solid that it won't stop me from doing the workout again--it'll just stop me from doing any superfluous jumping during the cardio.

The second workout on the DVD, Muscle Endurance, was nothing but 65 minutes of pure muscle-shaking goodness.  It has the same awful set at the Boot Camp workout, but you won't notice that during the workout--you'll be too busy trying to make it to the end of each exercise (as long as you're using a weight that challenges you).  The back of the DVD says that it is a high-rep, total body workout, and I would agree with that--the amount of reps she does is challenging.  However, there are a lot of leg presses in this workout (so much so that one of the pre-mixes consists of just leg presses.  Really?); I could have done with some more variation there.  The core work is also very similar to what was done in the Boot Camp DVD, so I guess I'm lucky I liked it in the first place--because I did most of it again later in the week.  But those are minor annoyances, this is a DVD I will be reaching for when I want to do some serious weight work.

What I love about these workouts (indeed, any of Cathe's workouts) is that they come with pre-mixes: shorter versions of the workout that you can do that focus on different aspects or muscle groups.  For example, the Muscle Endurance DVD comes with upper and lower body premixes (along with that leg press premix for all you masochists out there), which just play those parts of the workout.  For me, these are awesome, especially on days when I'm weight-training the day after a long run and I want to leave my legs alone because they need their rest.

For both of these workouts, you'll need a high step (Cathe calls it a mini-step), a barbell, some dumbbells, and a medicine ball (they use an 8-lb one in both workouts). But you don't really need a barbell--you can do all of those moves with dumbbells, which is what I do.  I don't own a barbell because a) I don't have room to store a barbell anywhere in my very small 1930s farm house, and b) I am afraid my husband will come downstairs one morning to find that I have crushed some body part of mine with it, because I am not very coordinated.  (I'll post later about various stupid workout injuries I have inflicted upon myself.)

Overall, these DVDs are worth the time and money.  Cathe's workouts tend to be on the expensive side, but  if you buy them from Amazon rather than off Cathe's website, you won't be gouged on shipping (every time I try and order something off Cathe's website, they only have UPS Ground as an option.  I get pissed off at this).

And I know these workouts have settled in nicely to my little workout DVD family.

Don't race when you're sick.

I ran a 10-mile race this morning.  It was the Arny Johnson 10 mile race they have out at Harlem High School every year. It's a nice race, and for a good cause--all proceeds go towards the Rockford Area Habitat for Humanity.  This has been a prime motivating factor for me doing this race, especially when I want to wimp out of going anywhere near it after waking up.  The 10-mile course goes through Rock Cut State Park ("The largest state park in northern Illinois"), and looks like a big ol' lasso:

This course is gorgeous and green and full of allergens this time of year.  It also has hills straight from the depths of hell.

There was a slight chill to the air, the wind wasn't too bad, someone told me my purple running tights were freaking awesome (thanks, lady in the bathroom!), and there were lots of runners there whom I had seen before so I knew that about 75% of them were going to kick my ass in this race.  I think they have all been running for about 3 billion years, so they have some experience on me (June will mark my 2-year running anniversary), so I knew better than to expect any medals or age-group awards.

But that didn't really matter to me.  This wasn't my goal race, the half-marathon race for which I had been training. I vowed to take it easy, have fun, get some good hill-training in, and beat my time from last year (1:31:59).  I wanted to run my own race, and not get trapped in that mental "holy cow she just passed me she looks like she's in my age group I will catch up with her or I will die trying" trap I always tumble down into, causing much internal grief, anguish and dirty looks at volunteers standing perfectly still on the side of the road telling me to "JUST KEEP GOING" by mile 7.  (Don't get me wrong--I love all of the volunteers, especially after there weren't enough at my last race and I missed the last turn towards the finish line.  But when you get in that bad mental running place, you get a little cranky.)

But I wanted to take it easy primarily because I have had this crazy lung-thing going on this week.  By "crazy lung-thing" I mean that my lungs have trying to convince me that they are sick, but I have not been listening to them.  I do not believe them.  I can't believe them, because my half marathon is two weeks away and I'm not listening to such whiny talk from my own internal organs.  And besides, they haven't been sick in over two years; there's just NO WAY they could be experiencing technical difficulties.

Well. (Or "WeeEEEElllllll..." as my mother would say in her southern drawl.)  Let me just tell you about the race.

First off, the idea that I was going to "take it easy" went right out the window in the first mile because I'm a total moron. I was zipping along down the path towards the hills from hell at a much faster pace than I should have been.  And, I don't know about you, but whatever pace my feet find at the start is the race is the pace my feet fall into for the entire race, not matter how long it is.  That is because, really, after the gun goes off, my feet are really in charge.  My brain is just along for the ride.

So, by the 5th mile, my feet were taking me up and down the hills from hell.  This is where my lungs started to whimper a bit.  My feet told them to shut the hell up they were trying to race down here, dammit.

By mile 7, my lungs started to get louder--literally and figuratively.  My feet tried to ignore my lungs, clad in their Ryka-neon-goodness, but by mile 9 their sounds overpowered even the brightest yellow neon hue of my awesome running shoes.  Specifically, those sounds were *WhEEEEEeeEeEeeze*  and *hackwheezehack*  It sounded like I was a 2 pack-a-day smoker again masquerading as a runner.  Other runners were turning to stare at me in that last mile (being able to hear me OVER their headphones) with looks that said, "Geez, lady--if you're going to run a race, lay off the cigs for a while, willya?"

My feet never did slow down.  But my lungs finally got a word in edgewise as I was running down the very long finish-line chute, when a runner I had been admiring during the hills of hell for her hill-tackling strategies passed me in the last 30 feet, and my lungs didn't have any more oomph to even attempt to overtake her.

All they had left was "wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeZE*

For all my body parts arguing, hills from hell, and people staring at me and my wheezes, I did manage to beat my time from last year by about 4 minutes, and came in 7th in my age group.  I even ran the entire course this year--last year the hills around mile 6 got me, and it took a friendly runner with some kind words to get me out of my "WHY ARE THESE HILLS SO MEAN i'm going to cry now" mental rut.

I also managed to lose my voice entirely, which my husband considers a "win" for the day.  But my fingers still work, hence this blog post.  I'll force him to read it later as the price for his sarcasm.