In summary: I came, I saw, I blew it. My first DNF (did not finish).
To begin at the beginning, Mr. Shuffler and I left Ottawa under sauna-like conditions and headed down to St. Catherine’s last Saturday. We picked up our race kits, checked in to our hotel and immediately headed out to hit up a few wineries. (Side note: the goodie bag included a shirt reading “Sugar Mamma” and a copy of the latest iRun that featured my article about intervals. Renée thought this was hilarious: “You’re getting yourself as race swag!”) I mentioned to the lady behind the counter at Henry of Pelham (a winery) that I was going to be running a half marathon the next day. “Are you really supposed to be drinking before a race?” she asked. I assured her that I was in fact drinking far less than normal. We met Renée and her partner in crime Michael at a downtown restaurant and had a very tasty and healthy dinner. Full but not over-full, we headed back to our room and I dreamed that the race the next day was going to be held across the border in the U.S. As you might expect, there were lots of logistical difficulties associated with a cross-border race.
The next morning dawned bright and steamy (I later found out that the temperature that day hit 35°C with the humidex and that there was a smog warning across the province). We shuttled in to Port Dalhousie and I spent the next hour or so hydrating and pacing.
At 9am, we lined up and were sent off to the sweet sounds of the Black Eyed Peas “Let’s get it started”, a modern racing tradition. The first twenty minutes were okay. I was feeling the heat but I was still on pace for a 2:30 finish, (6:52 minute/kilometer). Things started going off the rails at the half hour mark and got steadily worse. We passed the starting point again at 6km and I was starting to feel pretty lousy. My heart and lungs were working overtime. During my walk breaks, I was breathing like I was doing an interval workout. At 7.5km, Mr. Shuffler and I stopped to discuss the situation. I decided to press on against his better judgment, taking more frequent breaks and dropping my pace even further. Somewhere around 9.5km, I gave up. I realized that even if I walked the entire rest of the distance, it was going to take me somewhere in the vicinity of two hours and it wasn’t going to be very enjoyable. We walked back to the start line (luckily the course looped past the start line so we only had 3km to go) and for the first time, I skirted the finish line and didn’t pick up a finisher’s medal. This did mean that Mr. Shuffler and I were able to see Renée finish in slightly over 2:30.
Renée finishes strong
It was a treat for me because my racing friends are usually long done by the time I come in. Our little gang then spent the next couple of hours visiting various chocolate stations. Treats included slabs of fudge, two different ice cream stations, chocolate-covered strawberries and trufflers. I did enjoy the fact that the chocolate stations were spread out so it was like a little chocolate treasure hunt at the end of the race.
Chocolatey goodness
Special props are due to Michael, for standing by the finish line for 30 minutes or more, waiting for us to finish. The lady who was announcing the results was quite shrill and kept haranguing the crowd to show more enthusiasm. She also put her foot in her mouth on several occasions. Sample comment: a young woman was walking to the finish line of the half and her remark was, “Don’t worry about it. Next time, you’ll run actually the race!” Not cool at all.
Mr. Shuffler and I spent the next three days visiting 31 wineries and acquiring what later added up to five cases of wine.
Wine country is our happy place
So there you have it. My next half is in 19 days and the pressure is on to 1) finish this one and 2) land a half-marathon PR for the season. Next post: the five stages of DNF grief.
The four main components of the Chi Running form are posture, lean, heel lift and arm swing. This blog entry discusses arm swing.
In Chi Running the arms are completely relaxed from the hands all the way up to the shoulder. They are also constantly bent at a 90 Degree angle and swing at the same cadence as your legs. Keep your shoulders relaxed and down and let your arms hang down from the shoulder socket.
This 90 Degree angle because it creates the shortest arm length, which also is the easiest length to swing. To emphasize the point try swinging straight arms (longest length) versus arms bent at 90 Degrees (shortest arms) and notice the difference in effort.
The arms swing at your side front to back with a slight angle inwards in front of you but never crossing your centerline. If they swing past your centerline, they create momentum in the sideways direction rather than to the front, which wastes energy.
You never swing your elbows further forward than your ribs. This throws your legs forward which can cause heel strike and also rotates the shoulders. You also never swing your wrists further back than your ribs.
Your arms swing like pendulums from the ball in the shoulder socket and as separate entities from your shoulders. This is to ensure your shoulders don’t swing with the forward and backward movement of the arms. In Chi Running your shoulders always point forward, and never rotate. If your shoulders rotate they reduce your stride length and you lose speed.
You swing you arms to the rear like you are elbowing someone behind you rather than swinging them to the front like you are punching someone in front of you. Once your arm is swung to the rear, just let it fall forward using gravity. Swinging their arms to the rear instead of forward will keep their shoulders stable and not rotating along with the arms. This helps stabilize everything above the midpoint of your spine. It’s everything below this midpoint that rotates when you run.
VICKY: Yes. Finally. This is the one we’ve wanted.
GRANT: Since we’ve started blogging.
VICKY: Yeah remember our ridiculous video from our fist blog:
GRANT: Oh yeah, but don’t remind me. Only 140 views and two thirds of those are me. Total failure, but I guess it got us this gig.
VICKY: Yeah, we are major bloggers living the dream.
GRANT: Exactly. We’re not down just because we read that crappy book PRE.
VICKY: Hell no. We aren’t quitters. Remember what Terry said, “nobody is ever going to call me a quitter.”
GRANT: So here it is loyal readers who stuck with us through PRE….
VICKY: I quote from TerryFox.org: “On April 12, 1980, Terry Fox set out from St. John’s, Newfoundland to begin the run across Canada that he named the Marathon of Hope. His ambition was to raise a million dollars for cancer research. It wasn’t easy. Initial support from communities varied from terrific to nothing at all. His prosthetic leg was painful to run on, and there were always traffic and extreme weather conditions to deal with. But, by the time he reached Ontario – a journey of more than 3,000 kilometres – word of his achievement had spread, and thousands cheered him and followed his progress. Terry’s spirits soared, and now he hoped to raise $22 million dollars – one dollar for every Canadian. He succeeded in this ambition, but the Marathon of Hope ended near Thunder Bay, Ontario on September 1, 1980. The cancer had spread to his lungs, and, after running 24 miles in one day, on the next he could run no further.”
Ah, vacation. That time when I can run when I feel like it, no pressure to be back in time to get ready for work, or in time to wind down for bed. When I can look out the window at 2:30 in the afternoon and think, “the weather is perfect for running!” and actually go because I am not stuck at work.
It’s like a free pass, really. Well, almost. You see, I went for a run the other day with this mindset of reckless abandon, and it turned out to be a bit of an error in judgment on my part. The fancy to run struck at about 7:30 in the evening. I don’t normally run in the evening, and I had been planning a rest day. But I saw that the weather was just right, and that the next day, when I had planned to run again, they were predicting heat and humidity, two of my mortal enemies. So I took my time in getting ready and headed out ad about 8:00 pm.
I started out from home and as I got to the edge of town I had a quick look around and thought, the light is so nice, everything is golden, I have plenty of time to get back before it gets dark. That is precisely where the error occurred. I headed out of town on an 80-kph road.
From there it all happened rather suddenly. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, and suddenly, it got quite dusk-like. I thought, uh-oh, maybe I should turn around early. So I kept running until I got a clear spot in traffic and started to head back towards town. By this time I calculated I had about 3K before I was back safely within town limits and sidewalks resumed.
In that 3 K it got quite dark. Now, if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you have probably guessed that I am a bit of a stickler for safety. I have reflective clothing, blinking lights, and very anal standards about where, when and how to run. And I was, during those 3K, in violation of just about all but about one of them (I was still on the correct side of the road, facing traffic, you see). So I hugged the edge of the shoulder tightly and watched every oncoming vehicle for some subtle sign to indicate whether or not they had seen me, prepared to jump into the ditch if necessary.
To all of the drivers that passed me that night and muttered “idiot” under your breath – you’re absolutely right. And to the drivers who didn’t, I’m sure it was only because you didn’t see me.
This was a good reminder for me to be aware of safety and surroundings at all times – even when I am on vacation.
My husband and I went to the movies the other night but asked the babysitter to come over an hour and a half early.
As she walked up the driveway, the girls ran to her. And then we donned our sneakers and went for a run together. Up a hill and then through the woods. watching for roots and rocks, stumps, as my husband ran ahead of me and the dog let her tongue fall far out of her mouth. Careful not to slip on the broken slate, pushed up a hill, the dog turned back to me, happiness in her eyes.
My legs were burning and my lungs were screaming as I tried to keep up with my husband. Down the hill to a lake where we rested and threw a stick for the dog. Turned around and home again, my ankles were tired, my legs were lead weight. We snuck back into the house (the kids were outside) and rinsed off, got ready quickly for our movie. Gave goodbye hugs and kisses and don’t-forget-to-brush-your-teeth’s.
Cheeks still flushed and we left the windows down on the drive to cool off. He reached over and squeezed my leg.
It was the best date we’ve had in a while. And the movie stunk.
This is my favourite part of any training program: the week right before the race where you get to slack off. Technically speaking, the length of your taper depends on the length of your race. About three weeks of gradually cutting back should do it for a marathon, about 1.5 weeks for a half and a week or less for a 5km or 10km. The idea is that for every week of your taper, you cut your mileage from the previous week in half. For example, if you’re doing 40km a week to prepare for a half, you would cut back to 20 and then maybe to 10km. I’m told that tapering is sometimes psychologically difficult for hard-core runners: they simply don’t know what to do with all their spare time and they keep getting running cravings. As I’m sure you all know by now, this is not a problem for me. My experience is more like, “This is so pleasant! Why do I do so much running again?”
I started cutting back somewhat last week but this week I’m really going whole hog: I’m going up to the cottage for four days. This cottage being boat-access only, running is actually completely impossible, unless I’d care to do laps of a ten-foot long dock. So I’ll be canoeing and swimming instead and occasionally hoisting a wine glass (who am I kidding, “occasionally”?). So updating will be sporadic over the next week and a half. Mr. Shuffler and I return on Thursday night and head out to Niagara on Saturday for the first of two half-marathons. Obviously, if the Chocolate half results in a PR, I will beg, borrow or steal Internet access to crow about it publicly.
Enjoy the last few weeks of summer and don’t train too hard!
Maybe it’s because I’ve only done one half (halfs or halves?) but I’m starting to get the pre-race jitters. My first half-marathon (the Chocolate half in Niagara) is a little over two weeks away now. Actually, what began as a worrying thought at the back of my mind has just gotten louder over the last few weeks. It goes something like this:
“How on earth are you going to run 6:52 kms for 2.5 hours? You’ve never done that!”
On a rational level, I know that no training program anywhere ever has you do the entire race distance at your planned race pace. I know it would be a stupid idea for me to even try because I could injure myself or at the very least, drain my energy reserves. I know that it’s completely normal and expected for people to pick up the pace on race day.
On the other hand, there’s something about this that seems almost incredible. Where exactly does this boost come from? Magical running elves? Divine intervention?
I guess the worry for me is that my race days tend to be problematic in terms of my health and environmental conditions. I’ve never really had a race day where all the stars lined up and I made a big improvement in time. In fact, it was only this year that I made any improvement at all on my 5km PR, which was set back in 2007.
I’m really hoping that running two separate half-marathons this fall will get me at least one PR. I’m not greedy – it can be a two-minute PR. Right now, I’m trying to think positive and remind myself how well I’ve stuck to my program and how strong I’m feeling these days on my runs. I’m also considering making some kind of sacrifice to the weather gods to ensure that it won’t be 35°C with the humidex on race day (my first choice will be Zipper, unless he stops pooping on the floor).
Do you get pre-race jitters? How do you cope? Is there any sense at all in appealing to the weather gods?
I ran a half marathon in June and a sprint tri in July. I had the best intentions of doing another sprint in September, and a half in February and, and and…
Last week someone asked me what my next goal was and I kind of gaped, open-mouthed, like a fish and stuttered, “Uh… I don’t know.”
And I don’t. Summer’s winding to a close and I just kind of want to enjoy it, instead of focusing on a race. I’m not very good at balancing all things in my life and find that when training revs up, something else suffers. I believe that eventually, I’ll figure it out as I’m not willing to stop racing, but still. Life has been quiet and lovely and warm and summery. The house has been cleaner, the kids sweeter, the nights cooler. We’re on vacation for two of the next three weeks, I don’t want to have to run while we’re away. I want to run because I want to run.
There’s a 1ok in September that I’ll probably do, it’s been a while and I think I could shave a good chunk off my previous time. My run clinic ends tonight, culminating in the Halifax Navy 10k next Sunday. I went for a run by myself (well, me and my dog) yesterday because it’s been so long since I’ve run alone, and it was… nice.
I’ve always claimed that I need a goal to stay focused, and maybe this upcoming 10k is a good one. But maybe I’m at a place where I can cruise for a couple months, in between. It’s been kind of nice.
Sunday night, I conducted an impromptu running experiment. I had originally planned to do a 12-mile long run but the stars weren’t lining up. Specifically, I was tired and headachy and it had been raining a good part of the day. To top it all off, my mp3 player, which has been acting up lately, chose to shut down completely. Now, a lesser runner might have given up altogether and settled down in front of the television with a fistful of peanut butter M&Ms, a bourbon and Arrested Development DVDs (good times!). But I’ve been adhering to my program pretty faithfully for eight weeks and I was damned if I was going to miss a run. So I decided to swap my long run with next week’s tempo run. Instead I did six miles at a moderate pace instead. Despite my misgivings and before I had the time to think too hard, I headed out without my faithful mp3 player.
Faithful readers will know that on the headphone debate, I come down firmly on the side of portable music players. One might say I do so in a somewhat rigid manner. In fact, I’m not really sure when was the last time I ran all by myself, without music, television or a running buddy (human or canine). I was pretty surprised by the results of the experiment: it wasn’t awful. Two observations right off the bat. Traffic is really noisy. Crickets are spectacularly noisy. But I was pleasantly surprised by the volume of my footfalls and my Shuffler-style wheezing: specifically, neither was as loud as I expected (prior to this run, I was almost certain that I would be deafened by one or the other).
Another fear I had was that without music, podcasts or audiobooks, my thoughts would wander into unpleasant corners of my mind and get stuck. I tend to dwell on things and running without stimulation seemed like the perfect setup for rumination. My thoughts kind of flitted around without settling for the first twenty minutes. Then I ended up focusing on running itself. I came up with ideas for blog posts. I thought about my upcoming races. I thought about my training program. It was actually pretty peaceful.
All in all, I would call this one an unqualified success. I would definitely be willing to do this again on shorter runs (an hour or less). It certainly stirred the blog muse.
Over to you, readers. How do you feel about running “naked”? Is your default running without headphones or do you turn back if the batteries on your mp3 player run low?
Today’s edition of Foodie Friday goes out to my vegetarian running buddy Renée. I’m not a vegetarian myself but I often find myself eating vegetarian food, usually because I wasn’t organized enough to thaw meat for dinner. Tuesday evening, Mr. Shuffler and I sat down to Chickpea Ragout with Polenta. I would like to take the credit for the preparation but actually Mr. Shuffler did that. The recipe comes from Canadian Living magazine originally but I found it in a book put about by Canadian Living called Make It Tonight, which has a number of tasty and quick recipes taken from the magazine. We found the prepared Polenta at our local supermarket. Also, at my request, Mr. Shuffler left out the eggplant because I don’t like eggplant.
In shallow Dutch oven, heat 1 tbsp (15 mL) of the oil over medium heat; fry eggplant, zucchini, red pepper, onion, garlic, oregano, salt and hot pepper flakes, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 8 minutes.
Stir in tomatoes, chickpeas and tomato paste; cover and simmer until thickened and vegetables are softened, about 15 minutes. Stir in parsley.
Meanwhile, brush polenta with remaining oil; sprinkle with cheese (if using). Arrange on rimmed baking sheet; broil, 6 inches (15 cm) from heat, until edges are golden, about
6 minutes. Serve with ragout.
GRANT: This is it!
