W5: D4 - Half Marathon

We rose at 5:00 AM, I dozed on the way to DC, and we made good time. I woke up in time to marvel at how quiet the city was, and be perturbed at myself for forgetting my camera and being unable to take drive by pictures of the lovely architecture. We had never been in this part of DC before. The sky changed from blue black, to gray, and then finally, for the first time in what felt like a REALLY long time, to bright blue. .

Finding the packet pick up and registration proved to be problematic, but we found it. I productively munched half a Cliff Bar as we meandered down the street, chewing thoroughly to help it digest smoothly.

I picked up my number, 80, rather pleased that it had an 8 in it. I'm not superstitious, but my previous race numbers were 318 and 138, I like that they all had something in common. I introduced myself to the race director, who was very pleasant. Originally we'd planned for me to start early, but when he realized I didn't have crutches or a walker, he said I would be fine starting with the others.  I felt good and weird about that.

I found my way to the starting area. And we were off. The director called out my name, cheered, and waved as I passed. I smiled.

The C&O Canal Towpath is not very wide.  I ran with my iPod and headphone off, trying to take in the sights and sounds around me, and keep a steady pace. After all, even though this was a race, it was more importantly a training run for the future.

Soon, and as expected, everyone passed me and ran out of sight. There were a lot of obstacles to avoid because the course was not closed.  Non racers, on foot and on bikes, kids, dogs in addition puddles, and the worst of the mud. I thought there might be markers at each mile, and maybe their were, but I didn't see them. Just as I was getting nervous about being too slow I made it to the water stop at about mile 2.3. I took some water even though I didn't need it at that moment, I knew I'd need it later.

On I went, mostly alone, although some other non-racers and cyclists passed me. I was surprised by my doubtful mind, thoughts like, "Just walk, it would be easier," and "You're slow," were popping up, but I brushed them aside. I focused on the canal, the flowers, and the best route through or around the puddles. In an odd way I began to enjoy it when water seeped into my shoe, because inevitably my feet got dry again, and then wet again. I began to guess at each puddle whether or not my feet would get wet or not.

I turned on my iPod, leaving it at a low volume so I could still hear the other people around me. At the second water stop near mile 5, a volunteer asked me if I was going to go all the way, and I said yes. I tripped twice, but did not fall, the route was hard packed dirt with various rocks, a bit more hazardous than the asphalt of home. Neither of my injuries were bugging me, I felt pretty good actually.

Other runners, the fast ones, began to pass me on their way back, which was difficult in the areas made narrow by large puddles. I stood aside for them, they could be on their way to winning money, prizes, or a new PR, I wasn't out for any of that, so a few seconds wouldn't make a difference. I thought it would be more mentally and emotionally challenging to watch everyone pass me, but it wasn't. I saw it as personal progress, the more people I saw, the closer I was getting to the turn around.

I began studying people as they passed. How was their form? How hard did they seem to be pushing themselves? Were they hurt? Some acknowledged me as I passed, some did not, I didn't mind. The post turn around miles would be hardest for me, I assumed that was true for others as well. I was having trouble reading the time on my iPod, but I hoped my pace was still on par, I was mindful of each step, making sure I did not speed up or slow down.

I caught glimpses of the Potomac River in all its splendor through gaps in the tree line. I hope to some day be one of those runners who has the time to take pictures as they race. I found myself comparing the river to the canal on my right side, and looking back now, I think Shakespare may have found the proper words to contrast the two, though of course the deeper meaning in the text must be forgotten:

"Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it." (Romeo and Juliet, 2.2.9-10, Balcony Scene)


This photo of Harpers Ferry is courtesy of TripAdvisor


Other runners told me I was nearing the turn around mark, right on schedule. Soon I was alone again as the last runners made their way past me. A bit of worry and confusion crept into my mind as the turn around did not appear. The trees overhead made the sun dapple the ground, which was lovely, but made telling time more difficult.

"Perhaps I'm just slowing down a bit, or wasn't going as fast as I thought," my mind reasoned.

As 9:45 or the 1:45 mark came and went, I grew more concerned.

"You have to run 6.55 miles to get there, your 6.2 mile time was about 1:36."

When I got a good read on my watch again, I realized it was now 9:47, so I might not have been as far as I thought, because it must have said 9:27 before. I felt a little better. I did not know how the turn around was going to be marked, but since it was at the 6.55 interval, I figured they would have to mark it somehow.

And then 10:00 came and went. My resolve started to slip.

"2 hours to run 6.55 miles..."

When I ran 12 miles, I hadn't begun to slow so noticeably until mile 9 or so. My first 7 mile run finished in 1:45... Maybe I couldn't tell I was so slow because I'm not used to running by new scenery or in a line.

For the next 20 minutes my mind busily tried to calculate how long it would take me to get back, factoring in what I knew would be about a 3:00 to 5:00 increase in pace per mile and this molasses pace I was running.

And then I saw it around 10:15. A marker on the trail.

Mile 9.

And then the doubts I'd tried to be so cavalier about silencing were strengthened.

After the last runners had passed me, and I'd made it another few minutes down the trail with no sign of the turn around, I started to think that maybe, they'd taken the last water station and the turn around marker assuming that the other two runners I passed, were the last ones. I had told myself,

"No, you would have seen them coming back down the trail with stuff, or something,"

"But there was a Parking lot there, remember?" part of my brain interrupted, sounding a bit like a hybrid of the big mean snake from Harry Potter and the eels from The Little Mermaid.

"Oh."

"They forgot about you."

"Maybe they didn't, maybe that sign is for a spur trail."

"But aren't you on pace to be at the 9 mile mark?"

"Yes. So, I'll just keep going, I'll still run the 13.1 miles, there's probably other markers down there."

I kept running, passing under a large overpass and into the unknown. But something about the overpass scared me, as did not knowing when I might next see a parking lot or landmark. And then I realized that if I didn't show up within a reasonable time, back at the start, my husband would worry. So, I thought I'd run/walk back. I would complete the race. But the same fear popped up, plus the addition of not being sure I could make it. And, knowing we had to leave by 2:00 at the latest so he could be at work on time.

"Just run back about 4 miles, to where the other water stop was than at least you'll know you did it."

And I wanted to, so badly, but I knew that was another hour's run, and I knew I could do it, but even if I made it that far, I'd still have to walk 5 miles back to the start. My mind started factoring again, conservatively it was at least a 3 hour return trip.

I started to imagine everyone gawking at me when I arrived back at the start. Or maybe they all went home, but then if they did, my husband would point out I wasn't back. And then what if they thought something had happened to me, I pictured a park ranger driving up to me and telling me to get in his truck because he'd been dispatched to find me.

I forced those thoughts away and remembered a parking lot that had looked quite busy not far back, and so, rather close to tears, I stopped running, and turned around.

10:47 AM I officially gave up.

I walked slowly, planning as I went. Get to parking lot, find people, borrow phone, call husband, wait for him. I hoped the parking lot was still busy. I remembered seeing a sign advertising an open house for a historical site, though I couldn't remember the date. It wasn't long before I came to the parking lot again.

I told the park ranger I needed to find a phone and she let me borrow hers. I hoped very hard I remembered my husband's new phone number correctly. Thankfully he answered. I told him I'd gone too far and where I was.

It turns out they were having an open house for one of the shelters along the trail and a nature walk. There was also free lemonade and cookies. I didn't want to take anything, I wasn't going on the walk or going to the house. But I needed to replenish, so I had some pink lemonade and a snickerdoodle. Afterwards I walked up the small hill to the parking area, sat down on the curb, and waited.

I still refused to believe I hadn't made some horrible error as far as directions. It was too easy and convenient to say the race volunteers had forgotten about me. I wanted to at least consider my own responsibility. What I was really upset about was the fact that I hadn't been able to make the distance, race or no race. I thought I might cry, but maybe I was a little too dehydrated, or just too disgusted with myself. Or too something.

Where had my mental strength gone? How could I ever make 26 miles if I couldn't make myself run 10 miles? Maybe the 12 mile run had been a fluke. I was a quitter, a disappointment, a failure. My body, mind, and spirit were weaker than I believed. Perhaps this was their way of saying, "Stop, don't, you can't."

Often runners talk about how a race is far more about winning against the race or one's self than it is about beating other competitors. Part of my running joy had come from the fact that there was a place for someone like me in a race.

Everyone can play baseball, but not everyone can go to the World Series . But everyone who runs, runs the same race as some of the best athletes in the world. For so long I thought the sport of running was never even a possibility. But it turns out it was probably a sport I had the most chance at success with on a competitive level. Because there were no teams to make, no judges, just me, just me and time.

But I could not overcome myself, and the message I had received from the race was, "You are too slow." I forced myself not to dwell too much on these negative thoughts.

When my husband arrived I fell asleep in the car rather quickly.

Back at home I emailed the race director to let him know what happened. They had already posted the race results online. It stung to see that if I'd finished in the time I planned, I would have only been about ten minutes behind the last finishers. A few hours later my suspicions were 99% confirmed via a response from the race director. They had most likely taken down the Mile 7 water station before I arrived, along with the turn around marker. The gentleman apologized, and I told him not to worry about it.

I was in this weird emotional state. I felt I could cry, but knew I wouldn't. I wasn't angry, I was never angry about it, what good would that do? I appreciated the apology, but I didn't seek it, or any kind of recompense. I wish I finished and earned my medal, but did not dwell.

I question whether or not I should race again. I was forgotten, first in the 10K and now in the Half. I prepared myself to be last, even a distant last, but I had not prepared to be forgotten. I was forgotten again even though I'd tried to take precautions this time.

I want to prove to myself that I can finish and finish without being forgotten. But this is the wrong motivation. I should be satisfied without having to make my presence known, but I suppose it is natural, to want to finish and feel only the joy of the accomplishment. I think that is what I'm running after, pardon the pun.

I want to run a race and know that all I need to think about is running, not about whether the people are going to be where they say, or if they are going to forget me. I want to finish and feel only joy, not confusion or hurt. And I know, I only feel hurt because I allow myself to, but I am sure even the best marathoners would feel a little pain if they knew people had taken the course apart before they finished.

Now is the time to reflect on whether I will continue my training or postpone it until I can find a marathon I know I can finish.

W5: RD2 - Yes or No

So, after the high of registering for the half marathon, I emailed the race director for a after details check.  After an exchange of emails where I thought I would not be able to run because of their "preferred" time limit, I am still running.  The entire issue was a bit annoying since Active.com advertises it it as a "No Time-Limit" event.  
As an aside, my left foot feels fine for weight bearing and everything else, and my right foot seems to have recovered from its visit to Doctor Dumb.  No phone call today, so probably not broken.  Still not betting on gout however.

W5: D1 - Postponed is Better than Skipped

By some strange happenstance I awoke this morning at 5:11. I had to use the bathroom, and then I realized I couldn't hear the pitter patter of ran on the windows. My ears are very sharp, but I put my ear to the pane to be sure. Nope, no rain. 5:11 was early, and we'd gone to bed late. But I knew I would run as soon as I put my ear to the glass. I was up, and even if it had been raining, I knew I'd go out.

My pre-run meal was more of an experiment than anything. I'd read that chocolate milk was an excellent pre or post run fueler, which excited the child in me. However, we did not have any chocolate. So I settled for 3 oreos and a bit of extra milk just to finish off the jug. I filled my water bottle, but rather than carry it I left it near the curb because when it's still full it is a pain to heft around.

I'd never run before sunrise. The sky was inky blue black and the streetlights were on. The world was quiet and still. I've been reading Zen and the Art of Running, so I was hoping it would help me on my run. I thought it looked an awful lot like night running, but soon I began to see that it was really quite the opposite. The sky was dark yes, but the velvety blue black gave me a new shade to look at every lap, once I took the time to notice. And once I noticed, I couldn't stop noticing. And it was beautiful.

I realized I could look much further ahead in the coming daylight. At night I see by puddles of streetlamp light, moving like a frog from one to the next. In the day I can see down the street and around to the second half of the loop. At the beginning of the loop I could see almost the entire track, which made it look much smaller. I was sad to see the lovely shade of dark blue go, but as the sky lightened I could see more detail in the tree line. In the grey overcast morning no longer were they black slightly blurred silhouettes, but green trees with distinct leaves and branches.

And soon the world was waking up. Cars and drivings were coming to life. A little boy was on his bicycle, another little boy was out with his adorable puppy. I apologized to this boy because the puppy was very keen to follow me. I jumped at the deep bark of the same dog whose first bark always startles me. The same children whose presence bothered me in the afternoon, were a welcome sign of life and progression, in the morning. For a moment I was annoyed at their appearance and refusal to move to one side of the street, but it was fleeting. Even among them I began to notice things. One girl was already on her cell phone, I felt bad for the young boy who was carrying a Red Bull, not a quality breakfast. They were a sign of the post dawn morning and of fall.

I finished in 3:21:38, or about 21:38 slower than I wanted to. But the important thing is I finished and I finished feeling better than I did when I ran 9 miles or 10 miles. I am a bit sore, there were kinks along the way, and I slowed down considerably around the last 3 miles, but it was not as difficult as the previous 2 long runs. 

W4: D3 - New 3 Mile PR

Well, it looks like this is the week for setting PRs, granted my original ones weren't that high.  I still didn't have much motivation, but I used it to my advantage.  My 3 mile run ended at 43:39, thirty seconds faster than my previous 44:09.  My only hope now is that my 12 mile run on Sunday goes smoothly.  I'm not expecting any time records, after all, this will be my first twelve mile run.  But I am hoping to complete the distance and feel decent afterwards, not well enough to go out and do it again, but well enough to not be hobbling from mile 10 onward.

W4: D2 - 5 Mile PR and It's Official

I ran 5 miles in 1:13:35. My previous 5 mile time was 1:16:21, so I shaved off 2:46. 

The Doctor is likewise surprised.

I was quite surprised.  


I wasn't really into the run, I think part of the reason I ran so fast was, I wanted to be finished.  I was still mindful though, I waited to add speed and did so in bursts and only sustained if I felt I could do so without hurting myself.


I think after having quite a lot of fun exercising with others, running alone for over an hour was a bit, well lonely.  I think I'm also getting a bit tired of the loop I'm running.  Just thinking about Sunday's 50 laps depresses me.  


On the positive end of the spectrum, I officially registered for the International Peace Half Marathon.  


This race in particular means a lot to me because they commemorate the events of 09/11/01 each year.  That day was a huge one for many, but I'll never forget sitting in sophomore English honors watching it on tv.  And then watching the boy from my class leave because his father worked in the city.  In the classes that followed, the same thing was true.  Kids were going to the office to call home.  In the days that followed, adults I'd grown up knowing, who were volunteer firefighters and search and rescue dog handlers would go into the city.  First to help find the missing and then to find the dead.


I hope I don't cry.  In a way, if I do, I'll be glad, I hope never to be desensitized to the events of that day or other tragedies.  It will be an emotional day next Saturday.  If there are tears, I hope the first are sad, and the final ones, the ones that come after I cross the line, will be joyful.

W3: RD2 - Oh Doubt, There You Are

So, let's look back at yesterday, because it's all I can think about.  


When last I had a long run, 9 miles, I finished in 2:21:00.  Not my best, not ideal, but still under 16:00 per mile.  Target time for 10 mile run: 2:30:00.  Learning from last week I tried to ensure my pace was a steady 15:00 mile every mile.  I thought my time suffered a bit last week due to starting out a bit too fast.  


I was doing pretty well, but around mile 8, it just got harder. I'm glad to say, not quite as hard as last week, or at least a different kind of hard, but still hard.  I think I may have "Hit the Wall" as they say.  Thankfully I don't think it was from inability as much as unpreparedness.  Whatever it was, I only got through those last miles because I refused to give up.  My first mental miles.  Last week I felt tired, but not this crazy, slow motion, whatever it was.


I felt it too, every lap was hard, long, slow, agonizing, but not pain wise.  When you're already clocking 3:30ish laps, an extra few minutes really feels...  


Mile 9 to 10 was the worst. I knew I could do it, but it was slow. My time at 9 miles was almost ten minutes slower than the previous week, and that time, was a bit slower than I wanted it to be. 

The last mile took me about twenty minutes. I have never run that slow. I ended up with 2:44:11, or about 16:24 per mile, nearly a minute slower than my previous time, and almost 1.5 minutes above my ideal time.  It frustrates me more because it was only in those last miles that I lost so much time.  The change boosted my estimated marathon time from last week's 7:18:50 to 7:35:45.

Now, it is great that I ran 10 miles. It's great that I felt slightly better doing it than I did last week, but I am having some serious doubt about my abilities. I have never experienced such a rise in minutes. There are certain things that factored in and as much as I'm trying to keep them in the forefront of my mind, the doubt is really kicking in. I hate the fact that it isn't yet the distance that has overcome me, but instead the time. And with the way my body has been feeling, I'm not sure I will actually make it. Maybe 7 miles is really my limit. I know I've made it 10 now, but it's getting harder and more unreachable difficult to reach. 

Even at my ideal pace I'm going to always be on the cusp of not making it.  But I will make it.  Even if that means I can't do it this year, I will do it someday.

W3: D3 - Good and Bad

I was supposed to run 3 miles today, but Hurricane Irene is coming.  I knew the odds that I could fit a 3 mile run in on Saturday were better than being able to fit a 10 mile run in.  So, I switched them.  I am glad I made it through all 10 miles, but my time shot to 2:44:11 or an average of 16:24.

I know I did a few things wrong.  Namely, I did not have my rest day, and I forgot my sports beans, and I did not drink at all during the run.  Still, to say it doesn't make me nervous would be a lie.

At that rate I won't be able to finish any marathons in the time allowed.  I am still glad I made it though.

W3: D2 - Pretty Darn Good

After my cranky episode yesterday, I was in much better spirits on Thursday.  We watched Spirit of the Marathon Tuesday night and I've been intrigued by something that was said in the film.  One of the runners featured talked about how she and some of her friends are constantly looking at their watches and thinking about the next run because they want to improve their times.  I can relate to that, in February 2010 when I started running I was always looking at my watch and trying to outdo my times.  Even this April when I started training for my first 5K, I was still glancing at my watch, trying to track each lap.

But when I started training in August, something had changed within me, (Wicked reference.)

It stopped being as much about the time, and much more about the distance.  Time will always be a big factor for me, but distance will too.  And the young woman in the film said she wished she could be more like the runners who simply went out and ran, and weren't focused on their time.  In spite of being so slow, I've noticed a shift in that direction and I like it.  I still check my watch sometimes, sometimes I lose count of my laps and I need to time a few to figure out how many I've done.  But overall my mind has decided to be much more focused on each step, rather than each second.

My target 5 mile run time is 1:15:00 or 15:00 per mile.  I finished in 1:16:21, I was really pleased about that.  No, it's not my target time, but it was pretty close.

W3: No Run - On Sleep and Physicals

I haven't been sleeping as well as I want to, some of that is my fault, some of it I think, is my body adjusting to my running.  I'd planned to run in the morning but because I slept a little later than normal, I didn't.  I got an email about setting up a job interview last night, so I wanted to call first thing in the morning.  No biggie I thought, I'll just run after I call.  Well, I called and was told I'd receive a call back because the boss was busy.

Part of me wanted to just squeeze the run in, after all, what were the odds that the'd call in those 45 minutes?  But then, if I missed the call I might have to play phone tag again.  So I waited.  The call didn't come until early afternoon.  I worked on editing some photos from my sister's wedding and then went into the bedroom to relax for a bit.  After staring at the screen working on minute details for a few hours my mind needs a break.

I ended up dozing off, which I was rather perturbed about.  And by then it was time for my husband to come home.  When he came home I dozed off later for about half an hour, thankfully I woke up in time to change for my physical.

And let me just say physicals for pre-employment suck.  Because I have CP tests for coordination are a bit embarrassing and internally of course, I'm freaking out about potentially being turned down.  My vision is pretty bad, even with correction, and listening to the woman who couldn't take my blood pressure properly ask in an incredulous tone about my inability to read the line she asked, stinks, and it is kind of demeaning.  I mean I'd love it if my eyes worked better, but they don't.

And then of course inevitably the person performing the physical nowadays is usually a PA or Doctor who doesn't have much experience with CP, and even if they do, they always give me the "Wow, you'd never know... I've never met someone who was so articulate/able/etc speech."  Which in a way is nice, sort of.  I know what they mean, but it also makes me feel bad for all the other people they've encountered.  It also makes me feel like a bit of a freak.

That  feeling of freakdom is compounded of course by the physical itself.  When you check off the "Neurological disorders" box, they always ask, "Is that the cerebral palsy?"  Yes.  And again of course I'm internally worried that even though it's the truth, it could hurt my chances.  And then the tests.  Co-ordination tests are not fun.

I am accustomed to being watched by doctors, residents, nurses, etc, after all when you have to go to the hospital more than once a year for check ups when you're a kid, they watch you, and even if you get used to it, it's still uncomfortable.  You can always hear them talking, "See the way she raises her arms for balance, look at the difference in muscle tone in the right leg, and so on."  I understand future doctors of the world need to learn, but it's hard not getting frustrated while you're running down a hallway in the shortest shorts you own (because they have to see as much of you as they can) and they're talking about you like you can't hear you.

Okay, anyway, so the coordination tests are awkward.  Close your eyes, tilt your head back, lift your arms. I have no idea what they're looking for in this one, but I hate closing my eyes in unfamiliar environments.  And as I expected, I did feel a bit like I might fall over.  And then of course, walk.  Okay walk on your toes.  That one bugs me because I've spent my whole life trying NOT to do that.  And then walk on your heels.  I tried, but because my right foot ankle has a hard time flexing it's hard.  Since I didn't do well with that one I tried to do the heel toe line walk.  You know, the DUI test.  And well that did not go well either.  Thank goodness I don't drive or drive, and certainly don't drink AND drive.  I would fail, miserably at that test.

So, after that embarrassing experience I got to take a drug test.  Always fun to end an embarrassing, invasive evening by peeing in a cup.

Afterwards my husband and I had dinner and on the way home I fell asleep again.  I wanted to go out and run, but I knew I couldn't so I didn't.  That was hard, but clearly I'm tired.

Oh, and as a P.S.

Dear Medical Professionals of the World,
Please do the "Say ahh" test with your handy dandy flashlight BEFORE you stick the handy dandy flashlight in my ears.  I know you don't actually touch my mouth, but having something that was in my ear, even though I'm very hygienic, near my mouth is not cool.

Thanks.