Snohomish River Run Half Marathon Oct. 27, 2012

I admit it.  My focus has been on the Seattle Marathon in November.  I've known I had this little half marathon scheduled for October but the knowledge in my brain hadn't really caught up with my heart ...err...nerves.  What that really means is I wasn't experiencing a lot of taper madness.  In case you've never tapered for a race before and haven't experienced the joy of impending taper madness, I once described it as being stuck in a suspenseful movie that never seems to end.  You are aware a race is hiding just around the corner but have no idea what is going to happen when you boldly leap around that corner to face it.  I say boldly leap because it is a race and that's no time to be tentative.  You question all your training, the weather, little aches that appear out of nowhere, the clothes you'll wear, the weather, your diet habits, the weather, the clothes you'll wear, the weather.  Did I mention a few of those items more than once?  Yes, I tend to obsess about what to wear as the weather predictions change.  Or don't change.  Anyway, as the Snohomish River Run approached I wasn't experiencing any of those symptoms.  I knew I had an actual goal for this race - to PR, something I haven't tried in a half marathon in over 3 years.  Why wasn't I feeling more anxious?  This is great.  I like not stressing about a race.  And then something happened a week out.  I began to crave food, as in PMS craving and it wasn't time for PMS to kick in.  Ah nuts, I'm a taper eater.  It's probably due to the fact I also tend to fall into the emotional eater category.  I also suddenly found myself wandering over to the weather channel on my computer and staring at my drawers full of running clothes. Yep, I was in taper mode.  I figure that's actually a good thing in the end as it means my emotions have figured out I do have a goal for this race I'd like to meet and hopefully that message will get sent to my legs.

Race morning my husband and I woke up early (I'd signed him up for the 10K) and headed to the High School to catch one of the shuttle buses from Snohomish to the race start.  We were super early.  Too early.  He thought I wanted to be there way early.  I thought he wanted to be there way early.  Turns out neither one of us wanted to be there that early.  You'd think after 18 years of marriage we'd have this communication thing figured out.  The bus we caught only had about 10 other super early people on it.  We were at the race site 1.5 hours before the start.  In beautiful weather that may not have been so bad but it was dark, cold, lightly raining and windy outside.  At least I had plenty of time to use the restroom multiple times before the race start.  One of my goals, besides a PR, was to make it through this race without having to stop for a porta pottie.  I had yet to make it through a race longer than a 10K without needing a potty break.  I will tell you now, that goal was met and probably, in part, due to my early arrival at the race.  Yeah me!  Or actually, kudos should probably go to my bladder.

Okay, for those of you who don't know, I have Raynaud's Syndrome.  When I get cold my body overreacts.  It thinks, "Oh no! We must protect the heart and lungs! Pull the extra resources from her hands and feet!  More blood!  More blood!  We're gonna die if we don't heat the core!" Sigh.  I hate hot weather.  I love fall and winter.  As soon as I start moving I heat up fast, sweat buckets and easily overheat if I'm not careful.  I prefer cold weather.  Stupid Raynaud's.  It feels like a betrayl of my body. As we sat outside in the rain and wind my body quickly "compensated" and pulled all the blood from my hands and feet.  By the time I was in line for the start of the race my feet were blocks of ice and my fingers looked dead and white.  Have you ever run on feet you simply can't feel?  I always get this image of strapping those big blocks they make igloo's out of to the bottom of my feet and running.  Yes, that's what I was running on as the race started.  As we take off I worry a bit that I won't feel it if I step wrong and twist an ankle but it doesn't slow me down.  I try to wiggle my toes as I run to help get the blood flowing and after the first couple miles my feet are warm.

My coach, Mary Gandee, gave me the goal of running the first mile at a 10:15 pace.  I try really hard to resist the rush of fast energy at the start and ignore all the folks passing me by.  I find myself running a 9:30, back off and hit a 10:30.  Oops, too slow.  Back up to a 9:45.  I play around a bit with my pace and end the mile at a 10:09.  Not quite slow enough but not too terribly fast either.  At this point I'm supposed to hold 10:00 minute miles for at least the next 8 miles.  Mile #2 is a 10:01 pace.  I found my groove!  The course for this race is beautiful.  A bonus since miles 4-5 (I think it was those miles. They weren't marked well and I couldn't hear my garmin beeping distance alerts at me over the rain and the huffing and puffing of people around me - yes, it was other people's huffing and puffing and not my own that was loud - ha!).  Um, I digressed.  Where was I?  Oh yes, miles 4-5 had a wonderful odor drifting over the road from the farm(s) lining them.  Yes, cow manure, folks.  And this was an out and back course so we had that smell for quite a bit of time.  I breathed deeply anyway and pushed on.  It wasn't feeling too terribly hard  pace wise at this point, despite the wind.  I was feeling strong, passing people, chatting here and there with other runner's, it was good.  And then around mile 9 I started to get hot.  The sweat started pouring out of me and I found my gaze looking longingly for the next water stop.  Please, oh please, let there be water soon!  I found myself imagining taking the water bottle off somebody's hydration belt.  Do you think they'd mind?  Probably.  Keep running.  Water is bound to show up soon.  Not yet, not yet ... finally!  I take one cup and immediately wonder why I didn't grab two.  Can I turn around and go back?  Would that be weird?  Yes.  You have a time goal.  Keep moving.  There will be another aid station.  At least I hope and pray there is.  We are now running on the paved trail through the park.  I tell myself this area is supposed to be very pretty with all the fall colors but my mind is too focused on finding more water.  I'm also focused on passing people.  The trail is narrow here and with an out and back it's hard to pass if people are running two abreast.  I sneak between two men, announcing myself first, "Coming between you".  Inwardly, I think, "Ha! Chicked!"  I know, evil huh?  I hear one of them say, "Watch out.  Here they come."  Okay, this pace is feeling hard now and faster people are pouring past me in the other direction.  I cannot wait to be one of them for two reasons.  1.  I know I will be almost done with the race.  2.  I'm hoping the turn around has a water station.  Not yet, not yet, not yet ... I am so thirsty!!  Can I drink the rain?  How weird is it to be soaking wet and yet not have enough water?  Finally, I see the turn around and hallelujia, praise the Lord, thank you, Jesus, there is water!  I'm serious, it's an answer to prayer. Thank you, Jesus! I take two cups this time and try to drink it slow enough to register it.  I am almost done with this race and a PR is easily in my sights.  A guy up ahead of me is taking walk breaks and then speeding off again.  I want to walk so bad.  I am tired.  I see a gal dressed as Wonder Woman coming the other direction and figure I can walk until we cross paths.  I give in and walk for about 20 seconds.  I feel really stupid about it after the race because I'm 18 seconds over the minute mark on my final time.  Okay, I'll take that remembrance with me into the next race.  Don't give in to the walk!  I run the final half mile to the finish line and cross it in 2:10:18.  That's a 3 minute PR.  I am happy.  My immediate thought is "Must. Find. Water".  Where is the water?  I see a huge line at the food tent.  You have got to be kidding me?  That's the water line?  I get in line and try to spot my husband in the crowd.  He finds me and I let him hold my place in line while I use the porta potty.  I figured after doing so well at holding off my bladder deserved a break. When I get back he isn't all that much closer to the water.  I figure "nuts to this" and seeing that not everyone in line is getting water I cut ahead and fill two cups of water.  I refill those cups 3 times before feeling guilty when I notice they appear to be getting low on water.  Okay, I'll suck on orange slices instead.  Despite the difficulty in obtaining water after the race, the food is spectacular.  They have lots of hot soup, chips, salsa, oranges, bananas and yummy bread.  It's too bad I'm unable to eat moments after a hard run, my stomach simply cannot take it, and I'm too cold to wait around until I can eat something.  My husband and I catch the shuttle bus to town, swing by the coffee stand for some hot latte's, pick up our son from my mom and dad's and head home to hot shower's and dry clothes.  All in all it was a great race and I will do it again.  Oh, my husband enjoyed the 10K.  I guess he deserves a shout out, too.  He was particularly happy that he got the same shirt and medal for only half the work.  It's good.  I'm glad he got a medal.  The more medals he has the more likely he is to not complain when I sign up for another race.  And will I sign up for this one next year?  You bet!  It's a great race in my own hometown and I am happy to support it.