Myrtle Beach L.D. Marathon 2007

Short Version:

I ran a marathon this weekend. It was my 10th and completed 364 days after my very first marathon. My time was slow (4:21), but considering what I went through to run this marathon, it was the one I’m most proud of finishing. My family and I had quite a victory dinner afterwards.

Long Version:

I woke up at 3:00 am Wednesday morning to catch a flight to South Carolina for the Myrtle Beach Marathon. The weather forecast called for cool temperatures and I was looking forward to a nice, flat run along the coast. I was also bringing my mother along so she could visit with her best friend from high school, someone she hadn’t seen in 50 years although they talk almost every day. We arrived for a layover in Washington D.C. a little before schedule… then we sat….and sat…. and sat some more on the tarmack. Finally, an hour and a half after landing we pulled into the terminal. Rushing out of the plane, we quickly checked the departure board, afraid we may have missed our connecting flight. Thank goodness it was delayed and we had an hour before taking off again. An hour passed, then two before we were boarding the plane. As soon as we found our seats the crew ushered us back into the terminal: no co-pilot. We waited again. An hour later the co-pilot arrived, so back on the plane we went. And we sat….. and sat…..and sat again, watching planes around us de-ice and attempt to pull away from the gates. It was no use, the planes were frozen to the ground and trucks couldn’t get enough traction to break them lose. The crew eventually announced our flight had been cancelled and we were to deplane. We proceeded to customer service and we were informed that all flights to Myrtle Beach were full with huge standby lists. The soonest we could possibly get a flight would be Monday, two days AFTER the marathon. Could we fly somewhere in S. Carolina, N. Carolina or Georgia? Not a chance until mid week. Then we tried to rent a car with a few other stranded passengers only to find no cars available. How about Seattle, could they fly us home to Seattle? Nope, not until Saturday night or Sunday. Argh! O.K. maybe it wasn’t meant to be, could we get a refund or voucher for another trip? No again, act of God and all that stuff. We tried to get a hotel room but couldn’t find anything under $200 dollars a night. I looked at my watch: 1:30 am Thursday. I’d been awake almost 24 hours and had only eaten a bagel and two veggie tacos since Tuesday. Not the best pre-marathon diet. Then I had an idea (I think it was the lack of food/sleep that sent this delusion my way), maybe we could get to Arizona in time to run the Lost Dutchman! I checked for flights to Phoenix, no luck. Tucson? No. Palm Springs? Nope. San Diego? BINGO! 2 seats were available to San Diego the next morning, but it would cost us because we were changing our itinerary. Oh well, I forked over the money and we had two tickets in our hands. I called my wonderful S.O. who winters in Yuma, Arizona and asked if he could pick us up in San Diego and drive us to Apache Junction. He agreed and met us in San Diego only to find our luggage was hopelessly lost. The airline had no idea where it went and, unfortunately it contained all my running gear, including shoes.

We finally arrived in Apache Junction Saturday afternoon. A few quick calls and I located a pair of my favorite running shoes, then stopped at Target to pick up Champion shorts, a singlet and a jog bra. At the expo I registered for the race and bought some GU, Body Glide and sunglasses.

I arrived at the pre-dawn start line decked out in black Champion shorts, white Champion singlet, blue Brooks Adrenalines and socks that were too big and too thick. I had just five minutes to enjoy the pre-race campfires and coffee that have become a legendary part of the Lost Dutchman experience. The race director asked us to make our way to a chalk line drawn in the dirt as a shotgun blast signaled the sunrise and start of race. The remote location meant that the marathoners started alone, without crowds to cheer them on… just the company of fellow racers. It was a fast start, too, with the first 7 miles up and down (though mostly down) a dirt fire road. I let myself get caught up in the momentum…. partially because I was so happy to be running after 5 days off and partially because I didn’t have the mental strength to hold myself back. Mile 8 put us on pavement and along a highway. We would alternate between dirt and pavement, but the constant climbing and descending would remain with us throughout the day. The heat and hills were starting to take their toll on runners as many were reduced to a walk. By mile 20 my early speed caught up with me and I was having a hard time controlling my heart rate. I slowed to a snails pace, reminding myself that this was a training run for Boston and time didn’t matter. I continued to the finish with the slowest jog I could muster. I crossed the line in 4:21. My legs were cramping and my socks had caused my toes to look like they were capped with a series of red Jelly Bellies. I ate a little, sat around on the grass a little then hobbled back to the car. I looked down at my medal and thought how appropriate it was to be wearing the Lost Dutchman around my neck, my 10th marathon, 364 days after I ran my first and on the very same course.

Marathoning… it’s about the journey, not the race.

Carlsbad Marathon 2007

Carlsbad was my first of three marathons I'm running as "long runs" in preparation for Boston. I had enough of our horrible PNW winter and decided to head south for some sunshine, some beach time and a little hill training in the form of a marathon.

I arrived on Wednesday and it appears I brought the snow with me. Malibu was reporting snow fall and it was downright chilly in Carlsbad. The days leading up to the marathon were filled with 3-4 mile runs on the beach and longer barefoot walks. Since I was approaching the marathon as a long run, I didn't feel the need to taper.

Marathon morning I gave myself an hour to get to the start line. That seemed reasonable since my hotel was less than 5 miles away. I was wrong! Traffic was at stand still approaching the parking area, so I detoured and parked in a strip mall about a mile from the start. By the time I parked, I had less than 15 minutes to get to the race and as I approached, I heard the start gun go off. I found myself behind thousands of half marathoners and walkers... it took me an additional 5 minutes to cross the chip-mat ( both the marathoners and half-marathoners started at the same time). I was with my BF who was running the half, so we decided to stick together until the marathoners split off at the 5 mile mark. It was great fun to run together, weaving and dodging through the crowd. Soon I split-off to follow the full marathon course east and up a long grade while the rest of the crowd continued along the ocean. There were only 1,000 marathoners compared to over 6,000 half marathoners, so after the split the course really opened up. I really enjoyed the run up past the Airport. It was enough of an uphill to get the heart beating but not horribly difficult. The downhill was great for conditioning the quads! We returned to run along the ocean at mile 15, through nice rollers and a slight headwind after mile 18, which I found refreshingly cool.

I crossed the finish line in 4:14 chip time. I had a nice negative split of 2:13/2:01 with the last 6 miles being my fastest. The best part of the race was the way I felt afterwards… like I had just been out for a 4 hour walk. It’s nice to feel that way after running 26.2. Later in the afternoon I had enough energy to take a 3 mile barefoot walk along the beach for a total of 30.2 miles for the day. Maybe it’s time to think about an ultra!

FASHION FLASH....
Black marathon skirt, yellow Maniacs singlet, orange Brooks Adrenalines and sunglasses that BF deemed as making me look cool and unapproachable. No watch, no diamond studs, strictly business.

Seattle Marathon 2006

I love the northwest. Every single training run in November has been cold, windy and extremely wet. If I ran in the morning I would be chilled the rest of the day. If I ran at lunch I would sit at my desk looking like a wet mop all afternoon. So I resigned myself to evening runs, in the dark, through puddles I couldn't see and through driving rain that chilled me past the point of feeling. It was good training.
The weather forecast for the Seattle Marathon was ominous and ever changing. One station would call for high winds and rain, another for snow, and still another for partial clearing. The next hour the forecast would change, but the main theme was constant: it would be cold and wet. I packed for all conditions and headed for the big city Saturday afternoon. After a very quick stop at the expo we checked into our room then straight to the elevators to make our 5:30 Boomer Dinner. When the elevator doors opened we were shocked to be greeted by a red-stilettoed Goddess....
Fast forward to Race Day:
By now everyone has heard about the conditions: rain mixed with snow and wind. I decided to wear black tights, a red Marathon Maniacs long-sleeve tech shirt, safety yellow Maniacs jacket, black hat and black gloves. I tucked some hand warmers provided by Divechief into my gloves for extra comfort.
Waiting for the start was miserable, but as soon as the gun went off all was forgotten and it was time to run. I felt good and thought I was running strong, but my first mile split came in at 11:45. Oh well, it was crowded so the next one would be better. The next split? 10:30... no excuse, I guess it was going to be a slow day. Mile three came in at 9:30, better but still not good enough for the elusive BQ.... almost 5 minutes behind my pace in the first 3 miles. Everyone told me Seattle would be a tough course to PR or BQ on, I was probably foolish to even think it was possible especially with the weather conditions. (I had trained for a BQ attempt in the Tri-Cities three weeks earlier, but mother nature gifted us with a nasty wind storm and though I PR'd, I missed qualifying by a little over 3 minutes.)
My splits were bad, but my spirits were up. I was having fun with the rain, the cold and the other runners. I finally felt like I was hitting my stride as we came off the floating bridge. I shed my jacket and gloves and settled in for 18 miles of constant, consistent effort, putting myself in an almost meditative state. I don't remember much about the middle miles except an all-too-brief hug by an aqua-socked Boomer at mile 16. At mile 20 I caught the 4:00 pace group, hung out for a few minutes then went on ahead as we climbed towards the arboretum. Almost too soon I was flying down the long down hill approach to the finish, through the tunnel and onto the football field. My feet took wing as I crossed the artificial turf (one of the best parts of the Seattle event) and into the finishing chute in 3:58:46. A 5 1/2 minute PR, a BQ and an age group placement award.
Yes! I'm going to Boston!

Tri Cities Marathon 2006

I had high hopes for the Tri-Cities marathon in eastern Washington State. I was feeling great. My body was fresh and strong after a two week vacation which included one week that I logged 40 training miles at high altitude (and hills!). I approached the weekend knowing I was ready to smash that 4 hour barrier. The Friday evening weather report was favorable, too. Low’s in the mid 30’s, highs in the mid 60’s, light winds, sunshine. I even slept well the night before the race, confident that I had done everything right.
I woke on race morning to cold, clear skies and horrid winds. The revised weather report called for sustained winds 30-40 mph with gusts to 60. The marathon course follows a river that runs east to west. The winds were coming from the south which meant primarily a side wind with a slight tail wind on the way out and slight head wind on the way back. I had planned on running a negative split, but with the weather conditions made a last minute decision to change my strategy. I decided to use whatever tail wind was present and bank some time on the way out, then ease up on the way back and hope for the best. The first half was wonderful. I felt like a kid playing in the autumn leaves. Occasional gusts blew the hat from my head and I’d have to detour to catch it. I hit the halfway point in 1:52, a nice half-marathon PR for me and I hadn’t even put out an effort yet.
Then it happened….
The wind shifted. Some time during the last miles of the “Out” portion of the race, the wind shifted to blow from the west. The river was now churning with 4 foot chop and white caps. We crossed the river at mile 17 to begin our journey back and were hit with a wall of wind. It stopped everyone in their tracks. The runners had bunched up and were at a 45 degree angle fighting the head wind. There was still enough of a side wind to slam your raised foot into your other foot, tripping runners and bruising ankles. Tumble weeds were appearing out of nowhere causing all sorts of problems for the wheel chair athletes. Lots of people were walking. Walking kept one foot planted and minimized your chances of blowing off course or into another runner. I started a walk/run rotation since walking seemed as fast as running. I looked at my watch; although I felt I was standing still somehow I was covering a mile each 12 minutes. My quads and ITBs were tiring from pushing against the wind AND I was still having fun! Out of nowhere I managed to find the strength to start continuous running again at mile 20 and I was running well. By mile 22 I was back to sub-9 minute miles. As I approached the finish, I knew I wouldn’t break that 4 hour barrier but I also knew I had an outstanding run and lots left in the tank. I was thrilled to cross the finish line in 4:03 something… a new PR for me. I was even more excited about my performance when I heard about all the PW's that people were clocking….
I even came away with a 2nd in my age group. It was far and away my best marathon. Not just a PR, but I felt so good through out the race. My heart rate stayed low and my energy stayed up. I felt this was truly a “mental” marathon and I faced the challenge.
Unfortunately the adventure was not over for the western Washington marathoners: the same wacky weather dumped unexpected snow and hail on the mountain passes. Two of the main routes back to Seattle were closed for hours, leaving many of us stranded on the wrong side of the mountain range. Mr. Dove and I detoured south and avoided most of the mess but still added hours to our drive home.
Fashion Report: Yellow Marathon Maniacs singlet, black knit gloves, black hat, black running skirt, Brooks Adrenalines and diamond studs. I topped it off with a coating of Dove’s Secret Sauce on the legs (baby oil and Red Hot liniment) that collected all the blowing dust, maple leaves and even a few tumbleweeds on the course so that I looked like Pigpen when I rolled across the finish line.

Portland Marathon 2006

Let me start by saying the pre-race dinner party arranged by Mr. and Mrs. Labduck was great. I ran into Hippo and his very-much-not-a-Hippo wife on our way in. He introduced me to Julia by saying something like "look! This is not one of my imaginary friends, this is Marilou, she's normal, she's a Maniac." The hostess wasn't sure which party of 18 we were with, so she asked us to look around and see if we recognized anyone. It's a little hard to recognize people you have never met, but when we spotted the Boomers, it was obvious that this was our party. Everyone looked like the fit, youthful, athletic person I had imagined.
Econo and Tet gifted us with chocolate, keychains and little blinky things. Tammy got something special that I'd rather not describe. After dinner there was much jostling as pictures were taken, Tet was determined that every picture had to be goddess-Tet-goddess, although he reluctantly shared the wealth with the other guys. Econo took the fashionista award for her lovely black outfit complete with short skirt and cowboy boots.
Race morning was a big rolling party. I like the start of marathons the best and was reminded of that as we headed off into the newly breaking daylight to the sound of beating drums. I wasn't feeling well since I was just coming out of a terrible chest cold so I adopted the 1 mile run, 1 minute walk method of marathoning. I decided my goal for the race would be a new PW and to take things mile by mile, giving myself permission to drop out at any time. Despite feeling like I wasn't getting any oxygen to my legs, I had the best time! Spectators were everywhere, bands were set up every mile or so, and two out-and-backs gave plenty of opportunity to spot other Boomers. I was still hanging in there after climbing up the bridge at mile 17 (despite coughing up a lung) so decided to try and make it to the Boomer Aid Station. I thought it would be a perfect place to stage my first DNF and I could cheer on boomers that were behind me. Well, Tammy had other plans. She met me with a bottle of Gatorade and didn't even give me a chance to slow down or quit. Her enthusiasm and willingness to run with me for a stretch gave me new faith that I could finish and collect my medal.
I continued on for the next 50 minutes, smiling and enjoying every inch of the remaining miles. The beer at mile 24 added an extra spring to my step. The finish was amazing with huge crowds, great volunteers and wonderful food.
I didn't make my goal, though: I finished in 4:28... two minutes too fast for a PW.
I think I'll give Portland another try next year!

Fashion Report: Bright pink skirt, white singlet, pink running cap, Brooks shoes, diamond studs.

Skagit Flats Marathon 2006

Mandatory fashion report: Black Triks skirt, yellow marathon maniacs singlet, Brooks Adrenaline shoes, black runners cap, diamond studs.

The weekend of the Skagit Flats Marathon started off on the wrong foot. My 9 year old son, Alec, woke with a slight fever on Saturday morning. He didn’t seem too bad, and I decided to proceed with my plans to drive to Mount Vernon with Alec and my mother. I figured that a 3 hour drive would give Alec plenty of time to nap and we could sit around the hotel room and watch movies for the remainder of the day: a perfect way to fight off whatever bug was trying to take hold. The bug had other plans…

By the time we checked in Alec was feeling worse. I left him with Grandma, rushed over to pick up my race packet and pick up some take-out Italian for a late lunch. When I returned to the hotel room and unpacked lunch, I noticed that they had forgot to include my pasta and bread. I had eggplant and salad, pretty skimpy for a pre-race meal. I sent my mom out for a few snacks later in the evening: she came back with cookies. I was greatful for anything. Alec continued to get worse as his fever came on strong so I decided to call it an evening and get all of us to bed even though I was still hungry. Alec tossed, turned and coughed all night (we were sharing a bed) so I barely slept.

I was up the next morning feeling OK. I had a quick cup of black coffee and an energy bar before rushing off to meet my ride. Alec didn’t look like he was feeling any better, but grandma assured me that he would be just fine and they would meet me at the finish line. At the start, I meet up with Hippo (I didn’t know Soundrunner was going to be there, so didn’t look for her). The race starts and I bid Hippo a nice run as he bolts into the rising sun.

I don’t remember much about the race itself, except that it is through absolutely flat, treeless, spectatorless farmland. I could tell it would get tedious. By mile 6, at the half marathon turnaround, I was already bored. Mile ten was slightly more interesting since the leaders started appearing on the back side of this out-and-back course. A ray of mental sunshine hit me at mile 11 as Hippo ran by shouting a greeting to this goddess. He was looking strong and fresh but was out of sight way too soon. At mile 15 I started playing a game of adding some striders the last 100 yards of each mile. That held my interest for 5 miles, then my legs started complaining. About that time I became pre occupied with the turkey vultures soaring overhead, I was sure they were waiting for some insanely bored goddess to give up and they would come sweeping down to finish her off. Mile 21 I finally allowed myself to plug into my MP3 player although by that time the music just annoyed me. I trudged along and passed under the finish clock. I could have sworn it said 4:10:38. Oh well, I finished. I got my medal, a hug from a few Maniacs and set out to find Alec. He was all bundled up: pale and wilted in the stands. I decided to get him home ASAP so I bypassed the food and headed for the car. I stopped briefly to chat with Hippo, making sure he would join us in Portland for the pre- race dinner. He looked like he just returned from a weekend at the Spa, not like he had just run 26.2.

As you can read, it was a totally uninspired race for me. But I did finish and felt I gained some mental strength from the whole experience.

Here is what went right:

That night, I checked the final results. My time was 4:07:38. Good enough to place 2nd in the 45-49 age group although they were only giving awards in 10 year increments so no hardware for me.

I felt good enough after the race to drive 3 hours home, do some yard work, and play with the dogs.

I had no soreness or fatigue the next day. I ran on Tuesday and Wednesday and my legs felt fresh and springy.

I can’t wait for Portland!

Pacific Crest Marathon 2006

It all started 3 weeks ago when I visited my local running store for new shoes. I had been running in the same model for the past 2 years, then they were discountinued. I managed to stock pile enough pairs to get me through the Capital City Marathon, but now I was down to one last pair with 200 miles on them. The morning I visited my running store, I was greeted by a new face. He seemed knowledgable enough, so I trusted my delicate feet to his recommendations. After I bought my new shoes, I had an uneasy feeling about the whole deal so I ran on a treadmill the first few work outs and they felt fine. Two weeks ago I took a 16 miler in them, and at mile 10 my hip started acting up. A trip back to the running store, with the knowedgable manager confirmed that I was in THE WRONG SHOE and that caused my hip problem. I dutifully iced and rested, no running for 4 days.
Last weekend I was feeling fine and ran a 10 miler (including a 5k race in the middle) in different new shoes. Everything seemed fine and I was moving fluid and fast.
Fast forward to race day....
I was up at 5:00 for a light breakfast and pre-race prep. I arrived at the start line half an hour early dressed in a yellow Marathon Maniac singlet, black skirt and my trusty Nike AST8's that now had a little over 200 miles on them. I was worried about my feet because I managed to get a heel blister the day before while hiking in the canyons around Bend Oregon and trying to acclimate to the high altitude. Lots of body glide and well-fitting shoes seemed to solve the blister problem.
The race was due to start at 7:30, but we were staged at 7:15 in the athlete village for a "Parade of Athletes". Pacific Crest is a huge endurance weekend in which the marathon is only one of a dozen or so events (triathalons, Duathalons, various foot races, etc...). Because of this, the event had a festival like feeling and runners were treated like stars, including a parade to the start. It was already warm by the time the start gun went off and I was wishing we had started an hour earlier. The first few miles were hard, but they are always hard for me. I found a few other maniacs and passed the warm-up miles in pleasant chatter. Slowly they started to lag behind and I would catch another one up ahead. A little chatter later, I would lose them, too, and set my sights on some one else to get acquainted with. By mile 7 I was feeling great. No problems, everything was functioning better than normal. The sun was starting to heat up and I made a mental note to start dumping water over myself when we passed this point during the second of our two-loop course.
Mile 13 took us back through the athletes village and the only clock on the course. I couldn't believe my split: 1:56. Hey! I'm on track to BQ! I'm not supposed to do that until January, this is just a training run. I even have time to spare!
I started the second loop full of energy. But then the heat really hit AND the altitude. I'm OK, just a little winded, just a little hot but I'm gonna BQ!
Mile 14 found us out in the sun again, winding our way through high desert meadows. There was no hope of shade anywhere. Temps started climbing towards the high 80's when, at mile 17, I completely fell apart. First my stomach gave way and I had to hit every porta-potty for the next 4 miles. Then my back tightened up. Legs got heavy at mile 19. at mile 20 my hip gave out. The porta-potty trips were dreadfully as my legs cramped up every time I stopped. Some how I managed to keep moving forward. Some how I kept passing people and some how I found myself approaching the finish line, still upright and running. My boyfriend was waiting several hundred yards before the finish and yelled out: "your number 12!". I had no idea what he was talking about, I was only think about my hip, and my feet, and the salt dripping in my eyes. I crossed the line in 4:05. A PR by 8 minutes but no BQ.
When I emerged from the recovery area, my boyfriend greeted me with his usual "you did great, sweetie." I shook my head... no I didn't do great, I fell apart. This one did me in and I hurt, especially my hip. "No" he said, "you did great, you were the 12th woman in!"
I didn't really believe him and during further questioning discovered he hadn't been at the finish line when the first racers were arriving. Then while standing around and chatting with fellow Maniacs, the awards ceremony started. To my surprise the announcer called my name as the winner of the women's 40-44 age group! And number 12 overall woman. Yeah! Some how I hurt a little less with that gold medal hanging around my neck!
Now I'm home. My hip no longer hurts but I'm icing it anyway and planning to take a week or so off to mend. I'll miss the Seafair Marathon, then be back at it in September for the Skagit Flats if everything goes well.