First race of the year, and I am inexplicably nervous. I mean, there’s some reality to this: my NYC Marathon in November was terrible, both as to results and the actual running experience; a groin injury I already had was exacerbated by that race so that I didn’t run until mid-January; I actually took six fascia stretch training (FST) sessions with the amazing Adrienne Ingalls , and THEN six running lessons for to learn how to run properly and not get injured with the amazing Scott Carvin at the Mile High Run Club; and to get back to running without re-injury, my training was not high intensity (at least, to the extent I followed the plans of the brilliant and patient Debi Bernardes at Ucandoit Coaching (my mainstay, now in my fifth season).
But because I traditionally have no idea whatsoever as to what I can accomplish until the race is over, I didn’t know whether my 8:30 to 9:00 minute/mile training pace could translate to better than the 7:21 minute/mile I’ve done in my best half marathon (1:36), so I had fantasies about doing 1:35. (I know, I know: it’s a sad state of affairs, or a limited imagination, when your fantasy is reduced to a running a better half marathon…).
It was cold. Despite the prior week of 60-70 degree weather, the thermometer dropped (watch out! Did it break?) to 35-36 degrees. Planned to warm up, doing my drills (squats, high knees, skips, kick butt – my own, that is) – all of which prompted comments from the folks who live near me but were typical of the runners waiting around me. Of course, the extra layers got sweaty, and then I’m cold, anyway…
Based on my optimistic prediction, I’m in the first wave, second corral, so feeling pretty jacked up, but no one is joking or talking, everyone is grim – that is, everyone other than the Van Cortlandt Park team, including the indomitable Benny, clad only in shorts, tank top and arm warmers
The race starts, and I can’t help myself, I go out fast, but it feels great, I keep checking in with my form and I feel solid for the first mile (whoa, 7:16!), and the second (6:58, on the downhill from Central Park), and even the third (7:06 – gee, I didn’t remember this big loop out around 110th Street past the building I used to think of as the first Trump Tower – ugh). But my heart rate average is in high Zone 3 (okay but can I keep this up?), and we start going up Heartbreak Hill and I drop to 7:39 and then 7:35 (well, I have those fast miles to average against), and at mile 6 leaving the park it’s 7:24 (hmm, this average isn’t working well), then 7:26, a mile of hope when I hit 7:06 at mile 8, running through Times Square!
I keep checking in with myself: am I having fun? Yeah, mostly. But by now my average heart rate is zone 4, and it stays there for miles 7 to 13, and by definition, I am really uncomfortable, and this probably isn’t sustainable, right? And mile 9 is 7:36, hmm… And my left calf starts cramping from mile 9 to mile 10, and despite Scott’s training I decide not to push off strong at the end of each step to try to lessen the cramping, and mile 10 is my worst at 7:44 (reminding me of a Simpsons scene that running buddy Vasilis told me: Bart: “This is the worst day of my life!” Homer: “So far…”), because my next mile is 7:58 (well at least I’m breaking 8 minutes), and now BOTH calves are cramping and I’m afraid to stop and take a salt tablet for fear of seizing up entirely (which I do, after the finish), then 7:48 for mile 12 (a modest reprieve). And then, incredible, despite my plans to crank up the turnover like I practiced (isn’t the race over after the Battery Park Tunnel? Oh, no, not at all…), 9:58 for the final 1.1 miles.
Which leaves me at 1:39:32, 8 seconds behind my first and slowest HM, on the same course, in 2013. But I’m done, thank you, and up until the cramping, I was mostly having fun.
And no injury. That’s a new success.
Not until after the race did I remember: my more realistic goal had been to run 7:30 minute miles. And I came close, with a 7:36 average, one second per mile slower than my 2013 race. Given the injury from which I recovered, the relatively brief training during the winter, and the sheer force of gravity (what other people refer to as “getting older”), not a bad result.
The NYC Marathon on 11/9/16 is my A race this year, so: I’ve got to commit to doing Scott’s drills until running properly becomes second nature (sans Charlie horses). And Coach Debi says to take up kettle bells, so my core is stronger and dependable. (More lessons…) Meanwhile, there’s another half marathon in April, at a location not too far away…
Welcome back to racing, indeed.