Lessons Learned at the Shark Bite Half Marathon

When you live in an area for an extended amount of time, things become familiar, right? The same can be said about doing the same races repeatedly. Things became familiar... comfortable. I am, by my own admission, a compulsive planner. It works well when it comes to running races. I knew the ins and outs of my favorites. Where to stay if it was out of town. I knew how the climate would affect my race, even in Arkansas where you never really knew what would happen. I knew where to park so I wouldn't have a miserably long walk afterwards. I knew the course, turn by turn, hill by hill.

Then I moved half way across the country. Now what? What are the best races? How will I know where to stay, where to park, how to breathe?? My first two races, the Pink on Parade 5k and the Florida Legends Mermaid Half Marathon happened fairly quickly (just two days between finding out about, to running the Legends race) and I didn't have much time to prepare. I began training for the Shark Bite Half Marathon early-mid November. Between three holidays and a vacation to celebrate my wedding anniversary, I didn't find a lot of time to research my race. Three days before, a friend asked what time the race started and I didn't even know the answer!

The point is, I felt fairly unprepared for this race. I had goals. I really wanted to meet them, but for at least a couple weeks leading up I felt very anxious. There were things that were in my control that I could have done better while training. There were also things beyond my control, like the weather. I put a lot of pressure on myself.

By the time race weekend arrived I had decided on my goals...
My A, Good, Goal- 2:05 or under.
My B, Great, Goal- 2:00 area
My C, Amazing, Goal- PR with anything under 1:58:50 (I was saying under 1:58, but I would have taken even a couple seconds off and been thrilled.)

I was following the same Break 2 hour plan I've used before, but there was a big difference this time. Because of the move, and taking a laid back approach to training for the Soaring Wings Half Marathon in October, I didn't have a good base built to support the training in this plan. I had a big life change and went into training as if nothing had changed at all. Sure, I hit my speed work each week, but that drained me of every other run. I was not trained properly, and for the first half of this race I ran as if I was. Training is not just getting the speed work done.

Ultimately, I just wasn't ready to run with those kind of goals. I pushed hard in the first half and it killed my second half. I pushed so hard to try and PR, and then when that wasn't going to happen I tried to keep my pace in the 2 hour finishing area, that I burned out and it was all I could do to keep myself moving for the last half. Over the last week while I've been processing (...overthinking ...) everything, I also now realize that I wasn't fueled properly for the race. I tried, but a series of things happening the day before led to not a lot of food intake, and I had wrongly counted on breakfast being available at our hotel, but it didn't start until almost an hour after we left. I had a protein bar for breakfast and probably needed more carbs. I wouldn't have thought it would take 20 half marathons for me to learn this lesson, but here we are.  :) 

The first mile wasn't too bad really. It was the only mile I had that was in goal pace range to PR. Miles 2 and 3 I kept telling myself to pick up the pace but when I'd look at my watch it was one second slower each time. I was pushing, and not making any progress. By mile 4 I knew for sure I wasn't going to PR. I was ok with that. Like I said, I was so doubtful of reaching this goal and it wasn't because I was being hard on myself. So I did a quick 30 second walk through the water stop (trying to save what was in my handheld water bottle for later in the race) and re-asses what I hoped I could still do.

At the water station near mile 6 I got another cup of water. This is where the 2 hour pacer passed me. Even when she passed I was ok with it and told myself I could do my best to keep her in sight. That would help me reach at least one of my other goals.
A little after that point we turned onto the road that takes us back over the river. We had crossed the river for the first time in the first mile. That bridge wasn't bad. This second time over is definitely the worst hill I've done in Florida. Ever. The combination of the steepness with the length of the bridge made this quite possibly the hardest hill I've done in a race. Then again, it could be that I've already forgotten. I don't think so though. :) I walked twice going up the bridge.

Mid bridge crossing we reached 7 miles and I knew there was another water stop at mile 8. From this point on I had to set goals for myself. I was going to walk at the water stop at 8 miles but when I got to the flag I didn't see any tables. It was actually around the corner on the next turn. It makes sense when thinking about it because up to that point we were on a pretty busy road. When I finally did make it, I asked a volunteer if I could refill my water bottle and then rather than running again, I walked for a couple minutes. I had hit a HUGE wall. Miles 8-10 were on a straight stretch of road. This was mentally the toughest spot for me. I didn't allow myself to walk because, while I was starting to hurt quite a bit, I knew a lot of it was mental. I was ok with not reaching my B and C goals, and I was pretty sure I wasn't going to make my A goal, but I was trying not to look at my watch. I went back and forth between telling myself that my time didn't matter and I was still going to have a good finish, but also wondering how things got to this point. I did not want to walk. Just past the 10 mile mark there was another water stop and I asked for a bottle refill again. I didn't walk this time, but didn't make it far before I did. I walked five more times between 10.5 and 12.75. I was done. When I walked around 12.75 I was definitely frustrated with myself. At this point I had looked at my time and I couldn't help but wonder how my finish time would quite possibly be slower than my previous two half marathons. One was super hilly and the other I was only trained up to 8 or 9 miles. As I was telling myself to stop thinking and just run, another runner that had already finished was walking back along the course. He looked at me and even though I had my music going, I could tell he was saying something encouraging, beyond the typical "You've got this" kind of encouragement. Don't get me wrong, all encouragement is so welcome! I love spectators so much!! This guy though, he made eye contact and his eyes said so much more than words could say. As wonderful as it was, it got to me and I found myself fighting tears which led to the inevitable "panic attack". I stepped onto the sidewalk so I could slow my walk and get it together. 

By this time I had barely 1/3 of a mile to go. I was really hurting and I was so tempted to walk it in, but I ran. Sometimes shuffling my feet, sometimes tripping, but I ran. Just before the 13 mile flag I saw my friend, who had also run, standing on the corner. It was nice to see a familiar face and I think it was just what I needed to find a very small kick to the finish line.

Chip Time- 2:07:24/Avg pace 9:43

I received my medal, pint glass, and water and found myself wandering a bit. I couldn't tell if I needed to sit or if I needed to move. I found a place along the edge of the finisher and vendor's area where I could be out of the way, stretch and answer some encouraging texts from family and friends.

After a little bit I went out of the area to watch the finish line while waiting for my sister-in-law to come across. It made me smile to see so many people finishing and watch the range of emotions cross their faces. Crystal crossed, happy to be done, and I went back inside the area. It was nice that neither of us had to leave right away on top of the fact that it was a beautiful day. We lingered around for quite a while talking about the race, the course, and all the things that made this race worth doing again despite it being so rough for both of us.

So, what about the race itself?

The next time I do Shark Bite, I intend do it with no time goal so I can enjoy the course. It's beautiful! The course begins and ends less than 100 feet from the beach. That alone would bring me back.

As I mentioned before, the course crosses the Indian River for the first time about a half mile in. This bridge is a drawbridge and there's a portion of that bridge that is a metal grate. I found it a little difficult to run across, but thankfully it was a short distance.
The first turn is about 1 3/4 mile into the race and from there we got a little over half a mile along the river. The sun was just reaching over the trees that line the land surrounding the inlets on the river. It was lovely! Miles 2.5-4ish were through a residential area and the Historic District of New Smyrna then we were back along a different part of the river heading south for nearly a mile.

I love running by water so most of the first 5 miles of the race will be so nice to do and focus on rather than time or pace next time! 

Mile 6 is in another residential area and soon after the course takes a turn onto the large bridge to cross back over the river towards the beach. I tried measuring how long the hill is on Google Maps and as best I can tell it's around 1/3 of a mile. It seems way longer. lol The downhill part is excellent, but I wouldn't say it makes up for the incline. ;) Then came the turn that leads to the long 2 mile stretch for miles 8-10. We get to the 10th mile mark on a short out and back section that totals about 1/2 a mile in a small neighborhood. A couple turns later and we are at mile 11 heading north again towards the finish line. Most of the last two miles are along the main road paralleling the beach. I had hoped that because this was the closest road to the beach that there would be more ocean sightings, but it's a very populated area with a combination of hotels, condos, and beach homes lining the beach. It's a busy enough area that there were still some distractions, in addition to a few more spectators than anywhere else on the course along the sidewalks. Small glimpses of the ocean were nice. Just before mile 13 is the little turn off the main road which leads to a back road of sorts which curves into the finisher's chute. 

I really can't wait to run Shark Bite again so I can truly enjoy the course. 

My highlights for the race have nothing to do with actually running it. The emcee was phenomenal. Before the race he was very upbeat and fun to listen to, rather than potentially obnoxious. Can you imagine how many people are there who are not morning people? ( *slowly raising my hand*) I've been at races where I'd really prefer to pep myself up in quiet. Sometimes I can start a race already overwhelmed and anxious. That's a personal thing and I would never put it on anyone else. Beyond the start line fun, the same guy was at the finish line. When I was watching people finish the emcee was keeping things exciting and I feel like he made the same big deal over every time goal. Anyone who finished under 2:20 (when I started watching), 2:25... 2:40 etc, every one of them he had a count down and treated them as if they were the only people finishing. I'm sure it was like that from the beginning. It was very special. 

My other highlight was the beach itself. Starting, and more than that, finishing and all that follows, was THE BEST. I love the beach. No, I don't just love it. It's one of the most comforting things in the world to me. I'm at peace. Coming off a race that gave me so much anxiety and frustration and then to be able hear the waves when I finished, and walk such a short distance to the sand. I didn't want to leave. Plus, hello photo ops! :-D 

What it comes down to is this was a growing experience. I guess there's something to be learned with every race, but this one really got me thinking. First and foremost- FUEL for the race! I really should know better. Second, and almost as important at the first- Don't follow a training plan I'm not ready for, even if I've done it before. Duh. :oP Third- Remember that life happenings can and will impact training and I need to give myself some leniency and grace.

I don't have anything lined up right now and that's kind of weird. I'm going to use this downtime from races to focus on finding myself  again. I may or may not find the paces I was doing before we moved, and if I work and find out that's the case, it will be ok. It won't stop me from trying for a while. 

I can't wait to see what kind of runner I can become in Florida. 

My Final Year to Soar

For the tenth year in a row I ran the Soaring Wings Half Marathon. This was my first ever half marathon 9 years ago. I feel like my running journey has grown up with this race. So for this year to be the last... It's a bit devastating. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but there were so many emotions wrapped up in my race this year and that's how I feel.

When registration opened back in April I didn't know we would be moving half way across the country. All I knew was that I'd done Soaring Wings every year since my first time and I didn't want to break that streak. Then I found out that it was the last year and there was no doubt. When my family moved in July I wasn't sure I'd make it back. Obviously it happened and I'm so glad. However with the move came a major drop in running. When it came down to the actual time to train I decided to almost start from scratch and built a beginners plan. I was fine with whatever the outcome of the race would be, as long as I got to run it. We knew Scott wouldn't be able to take time off work to go back to Arkansas for the race so we talked to my dad about taking his place. Dad's training kicked off with a bang and soon I had a new worry- to keep up with him.

You see, for 9 years my parents have been to almost every Soaring Wings race. And the one or two they couldn't make it to, I received texts of encouragement and love through every mile. So for me, they were definitely still present. With Soaring Wings and every other race I have done, they have ALWAYS been the best support team. For me to be able to run this race with my dad was a very special thing. I so badly wanted to stay together but my training was nothing close to how well my dad was doing. Not to mention I don't have the hills in Florida that are pretty necessary for training when it comes to the course for Soaring Wings. I was nervous, to put it mildly.

After many talks Dad convinced me that he didn't care about our finish time and whether or not we walked a little or a lot. Our goal was to run this race together. That is what was important. Having talked to him I felt better as I drove into town, and I came up with my goals.

#1, My Good Goal (which is actually my best goal in this case)- Run the 13.1 miles with my dad and cross the finish line together.
#2, My Great Goal- Get my dad a PR. I didn't talk to him about this for a while. I was fairly sure he didn't know what time he needed and I figured with his training, I knew he could do it, but because of my training I wasn't so sure.
#3, My Amazing Goal- Finish with a pace around 9:30 which was close to what Dad had been averaging with his long runs, which were anywhere from 9:17-9:45 for his last few.

PRE-RACE~
Friday before the race my dad and I were talking details and after crunching numbers and going back and forth Dad said he wanted to go for 9:30. I had not told him my personal goals before this time. When I did, he seemed surprised to hear that *all* he needed for a PR was anything under a 10 minute pace! It seemed so easy. Yet, I was still a tiny bit concerned. It was all about the hills for me. I bring it up a lot, because I was THAT worried.

Friday afternoon my friend, Andrea, and I drove to Conway. We made a bit of a girl's weekend out of our time with the race so we went over earlier than totally necessary. This was Andrea's second half marathon, but first with Soaring Wings. She wasn't new to challenging courses though, as her first half was the Little Rock Half Marathon. (Check it out! The whole weekend is fantastic.) After going to the expo, taking a few pics, and checking out the Soaring Wings merchandise, Andrea and I drove the course so she could see what she was getting into.

Even though I've run this course 9 times before, driving it felt very different. VERY different. I remember thinking, on some of the more challenging parts of the course, that I don't know why they have been so hard in the past, or why I've been so anxious about them this year. I think I definitely learned a lesson in that. Obviously driving a hill is different from running one, but there's a huge mental game that goes along with all that. I think from now on if I drive a course I'll just plan for it to be 5 times harder. Maybe then it will all be ok! :-D

We drove to our hotel to get checked in and by the time we finished with that, my parents said they were close to Conway, so we went back to the expo to meet my parents. More pictures and another drive around the course with Dad and we decided we were definitely ready for dinner at MarketPlace Grill. We tried to turn in early but pre race jitters had us turning circles as Andrea and I gathered whatever we needed for Saturday morning.

RACE DAY!
I woke up Saturday morning before my alarm. No surprise there. I'm glad for it though because it allowed me to get ready a bit more slowly rather than feeling rushed. I dressed for the chilly but perfect race weather, wearing shorts with a tank top, long sleeves I knew I'd tie around my waist, and an extra layer which I knew I'd be tossing pretty early on, but since the coolest weather I'd run in was 70- with humidity- a couple times... and it was 46 race morning, I was too worried about being cold. I also had some knitted gloves.
Andrea and I left our hotel shortly after 6:00 to drive down the road to my dad's hotel, then made our way to my personal favorite parking area. There was a bank near the McGee Center that didn't seem to be open on Saturdays. If participants got there early enough we had some of the closest parking spots that weren't right on site, which were reserved for VIP runners. We walked the short distance to the building where we checked our bag for after the race and then the three of us walked to the start line. Last year I made a mistake in timing and most of us missed the National Anthem and prayer, part of the race that I find very important. So this year we were at the start line long before 7. And yet, we still didn't hear any of that. I don't know why, but I'm definitely disappointed.

Soaring Wings is a self seeded race, so we are able to place ourselves in the corrals where we feel we should begin. Dad and I placed ourselves just barely in front of the 2:05 pacer, as we hoped for a 9:30 pace. Andrea stayed with us until a few minutes before the race began and after traditional start line selfies she then moved to hang out with the 2:15 pacer. That was a little ahead of her goal, but it was a place to start that would keep her moving. Other than a couple texts later in the race, I didn't hear from Andrea again until I watched her cross the finish line.

Start Line Selfies :-D

The race started and I felt good as I try to settle in. It did not take long for me to take off my top layer. I tossed it by the time I hit 1 mile. Soon after that I knew I was going to need to shed my second long sleeve shirt. This one I wanted to keep though so I had to move my bib from my shirt to my tank top and I did not want to stop or walk to do that. It doesn’t seem like much but it definitely took some extra energy. Around 2 miles I finally felt settled and as comfortable as could be. I knew I had the first hill coming up but I also knew it was minor compared to the rest of the big ones. I really tried to just stay in the moment. Not even 1 mile at a time, but one street at a time. Or one block at a time at some points.

Neighborhoods decorated for Halloween were a fun distraction!

Almost 3 miles in
*Photo property of Run, Bike, Swim*

It was weird running the course and knowing that no one would be at the regular corners banging pots and pans for us, but at the same time definitely fun to be running with dad and pointing out where they would be. At each flag marker Dad would whoop and holler as we ticked each mile off. The first of four major hills came in the 4th mile. We pulled back our pace a little bit knowing that at the top we would be rewarded with an awesome downhill. Around 5 miles I felt like my feet were slipping in my shoes. I did not want to stop but I really felt like if I did I would be able to run stronger. Knowing there was a bit of a hill as we reached 6 miles I told dad I would stop at the top of the hill to adjust my shoes. It was less than a minute that we were stopped but obviously made a difference in our pace and time. Up to this point we had been maintaining a pace in the 9:20s. I can’t say I was feeling good, but I was feeling good enough to keep trying for that as long as possible.

A gradual decline after reaching the halfway point gave us a nice view!

I don’t know if it was the stop for my shoes or the pace and distance catching up with me, but I definitely had a harder time keeping our pace for the last half of the race. Even though dad had told me many times that we could slow down or a walk if needed (an agreement we had before even starting, that we were both supportive of the other one walking if needed) I still wanted to walk as little as possible and felt a little bit bad. He would have hated if I said that while we were running though. So after waiting as long as possible and reaching the top of a long incline heading into mile nine, I asked if we could walk between a set of cones.

One of many... Somewhere between 9 and 10 miles

For the next 4 miles I gave what I could. I did not have much energy for talking but I would listen if dad had something to say and acknowledge in short sentences. I walked through two water stops to refill my water bottle and those refreshed me enough to make it the mile and a half or so to the next. I walked through the last aid station, not for a water but to give myself a small recovery knowing that the big mile 12 hill was coming up. Before that though, as we complete mile 11, we get the most amazing and quite long gradual downhill. The down hills feel so great not only because the uphills are so hard but it also gives my legs a chance to use different muscles. After we made the turn off of the downhill the road is somewhat flat, compared to the rest of the course anyway, for about half a mile. And then the gradual incline that leads to the mile 12 hill begins. I braced myself mentally with each step closer. In the nine years that I have done this race I have not once ran the entire hill at mile 12. Even the years that I PR'd, I always walked this hill. To say it is a doozy is an understatement. I’m pretty sure I mention it every year that I have blogged about this race. Dad and I worked our way up the hill. I don’t know if I slowed down or held steady but I focused on what was right in front of me rather than looking towards the top. Except I knew there would be a photographer about 3/4 of the way up and while I was pretty sure any smile I attempted would be through quite a bit of pain, if I was able to get to the top without walking I wanted to have a picture of it happening. So I showed Dad where the photographer was and mustered up the best smile I could. 

THE Mile 12 Hill
*Photo property of Run, Bike, Swim*

After that I watched for the top. I felt like I was barely moving. But the top came. I was there! I ran the whole thing!! And then I was overcome with happiness and pride over finally kicking butt on this hill that has kicked mine for so many years. I did not WANT to walk at this point but I also could not breathe through my tears. We had less than a mile to go and if we walked much more we would be cutting it very close to not making pace for dad‘s PR. After I got it together we were at the top of a shorter hill that lead into the great downhill again. I pumped myself up and took off down the hill. Probably too fast considering my legs had felt like Jell-O for at least the last couple miles. I had to pull back a little bit once the road leveled out. For the last 3/4 of a mile I was flooded with memories of this same stretch of road. The first time I ever ran it. The time that Scott and I had met up with Angela and she very seriously asked a fire man on a bicycle for a ride. The time Scott and I had been leapfrogging with a lady who seemed to be struggling and we decided she needed to not finish alone. Three different times and points along the road last year when I ran it with my sister-in-law, and then went back and met my two brothers and watched them make their way to the finish line, and then met up with Scott and my other sister-in-law and watched her see through tears how close she was to finishing her first half marathon. These are the things that got me through the last six minutes of a race that had been especially hard for me this year. One foot at a time, passing one street at a time, picturing the finish line. And then we were there. There was a large group of spectators and volunteers on the corner cheering everyone on. We made the turn, and as we ran to the finish line other finishers were coming towards us cheering us on. Cheering the other finishers on. People called our names as we ran by them. Just like that we were done. Smiling as we crossed that line and in an instant crumbling in tears. For dad, I know it was mostly about having just run the race with me. He will be very humble about how he felt for this race. He had so much more in him that he could have given. He never mentions the fact that he could have kept on running, or the fact that he set a four minute PR! For me, all I wanted was to stay with my dad no matter how painful and hard it would be. I was afraid. I really thought that I was going to have to walk more than I did. My tears at the finish line were for sticking through all that and staying with my dad. Tears for being so proud of him for training so hard that he was able to set a PR and hardly look like he ran at all. And finally, tears because this was the final year to soar. 

Finish Time~ 2:07:40/9:45 pace

Overall Place- 331/1075

Female Age Group~ 32/120

We received our medals (and a frisbee this year too!) and saw my mom standing outside the finishers area taking pictures. 

We got some food and mom offered to hold it for us while we stayed inside the finisher's area waiting for Andrea. She had sent me a couple texts while dad and I were still running and based on those I knew she would be finishing soon after we did. I watched for her through crowds of other people that were waiting for their friends and loved ones. As soon as she was in sight Dad and I started shouting for her. Andrea looked so strong in her finish!! In talking with her later, she says that she realized she possibly did have more in her then she gave throughout the race. She was running in at a low eight minute pace to the finish line! Even with having more in her, Andrea also PR'd! 

I’m so incredibly proud of her and can’t wait to see where her own running journey will take her in the coming years. After more pictures we found a table in the sun and enjoyed the most beautiful weather we have had at Soaring Wings in many many years while trying to stretch out our aching muscles. 

Forever and always the Best Support Team 

*Photo property of Run, Bike, Swim*

*Photo property of Run, Bike, Swim*

After a while my parents left and Andrea’s family went to play at the family fun zone. Andrea was going to come to lunch with me and my parents so when she went to say goodbye to her family I stayed at the table and watched the finish line. Cue more tears. I know that I was exhausted and still riding a runners high from my own race, but I couldn’t help feeling emotional while watching these people finish their own race and also thinking again about how this was the last one. 

One last picture at the finish line

In talking with Andrea as we walked back to the car, we came to the decision that it’s possible saying goodbye to Soaring Wings was the release that I needed and did not have when I was saying goodbye to the life I had in Arkansas. There was so much going on in the couple months leading up to our move that I did not really have time to think about and process a proper goodbye to anyone or anything there. So in a lot of ways completing this race was the closure that I needed to really move along. The races I did, the jobs that I had, the friends and my family, are all parts of my life in Arkansas that I will always miss SO much. I think every part of the process I had leading up to and during Soaring Wings was much needed for so many reasons. I am extremely thankful that I was able to come back and run this race!

Thank you for the most amazing journey. I fell in love with long distance running because of this race. I don't think I'd be the runner I am now without Soaring Wings.

For even young people tire and drop out,

young folk in their prime stumble and fall.

But those who wait upon God get fresh strength.

They spread their wings and soar like eagles,

They run and don’t get tired,

they walk and don’t lag behind.

Isaiah 40:31, The Message

Running RussVegas

Almost three weeks ago I ran the RussVegas Half Marathon for the third time. Two days after completing the Little Rock 10k/Half Marathon Challenge I began training with a break 2 plan for RussVegas. Even though I broke the two hour time when I ran it last year, I loved the plan and wanted to break 2 hours again, maybe even set a new PR.
Training went far better than I could have expected considering the amount of training I had been doing to this point. I was feeling pretty confident. Until the last couple weeks. We had a weather change, that happened to coincide with my knee deciding it was done training. It seemed most runs after that were pretty difficult and if they weren't difficult it was because I cut back miles, laid off the speed work, or just kept things extremely laid back.

When race day came, I was in a good place. I love this race. I love the course, the spirit stations, the finish line energy. It's all fantastic. I knew my number one goal was to finish still loving it all. By this time though, I was most excited about the fact that my dad was running it too! He took nearly a 6 year running hiatus and rather than easing back into it, jumped all in to prepare to run RussVegas.

The three of us got to the finish line by 7:00am. As is our usual, we stood around letting the excitement from other runners soak in. A little later we moved into our corral, took the traditional start line selfie, then with good luck wishes, Scott and I moved a little closer to the front of the corral. Dad was assigned B also, but he didn't want to start too far forward. I was looking for the pacers but it wasn't until we were pretty packed in that I noticed they were all (from 1:55-2:20) at the front. I'm not sure what the deal was, but I wished they had been spread out like in the past. I was really counting on using a pacer to keep me going. Too much really.

When the race started, we did a bit of weaving until the crowd cleared a little. In the process we passed a couple pacers. By the time we got to mile 2 or so Scott and I had passed the 2 hour pacer. I was feeling pretty good. I was quite worried about my knee, but hadn't had any trouble in the day or two leading up to the race and I was hopeful things would stay that way. Unfortunately by the fourth mile I had a pretty good idea that I'd have to lay off the pace if I wanted to finish the race without hurting myself or at the very least still wanting to come back. I know it's hard when I'm on a long gradual downhill early in the race and it still feels extremely difficult. I kept pushing though. The temperature was climbing quickly. It wasn't warm for a typical spring day, but the sun was strong and for a runner who is pushing extra hard, the warmth made a difference for sure.

I pushed for a few more miles. By mile 7 my legs were already jello, but I kept pushing. I held a PR pace for almost 9 miles. I do not have a single regret about pulling back. I am confident I would not have made it those last 4 miles holding the sub 9 min/mile pace. I'm almost as confident that if I had tried, I would have ended up on the side of the course with a DNF. Once I made the decision to pull back, the race changed for me. I stopped looking at my watch (I had no idea of my finish time for quite a while after finishing... who AM I!?). I walked a couple times. I was able to thank the volunteers. I encouraged the early start racers. All the things that are my favorite parts of racing when I don't have a time goal. Scott later said there was a noticeable difference in my demeanor. More than me talking to others, but the way I carried myself and the look on my face.
Between 9 and 11 miles there was off and on rain. I could have cried I was so happy. Another happy cry moment happened as we hit 11 miles... my dear friend Andrea was there waiting! She drove almost 2 hours just to spectate. She's pretty special.

The next mile was pretty quiet. Too quiet for me really. It gave me too much time to think about the stinking huge hill coming up. We made the turn and I set a goal that was about half way up the overpass. About half way to that goal I stopped. Not stopped moving, just stopped running. This hill is the kind of steep that makes my heart rate sky rocket. One day I hope to keep it under control and run the whole thing. For now,  I'm ok with walking and smiling nicely for the camera. :)

At the top Scott said something about barely a mile to go and that made me so happy I flew down the other side. Between a beach themed spirit station, businesses out playing music and spectating, other people cheering, there is a lot to see in the last mile. I was feeling good and ready to crush the last bit of the course. Then, out of nowhere, my knee painfully tried to give out. Half a mile to the finish line. That's all. I tried to limp through it as I've been able to do sometimes before. I ended up walking and gave myself permission to be frustrated for a minute and then tried to jog it out again. I could see the turn to the finish line and all I wanted was to cross the line without anymore walking. When we turned I told Scott I was sure I didn't have anything left. No finish line kick would come.
I was wrong. It wasn't my fastest kick, but it still surprised me. Just like it always does. I was so happy and extremely thankful to be done. I was never worried about not finishing, but somewhere deep down I must have been worried about something because as soon as I finished I felt like a huge weight had been lifted.

I did not break two hours. I did not PR. I did finish the race smiling. I did finish basically injury free. I did still finish with a big love for running.

Chip Time- 2:03:29
Overall Place- 283/1233
Female Overall Place- 102/797
Female Age Group- 19/133

After receiving our medals and getting some snacks we found Andrea waiting for us outside the finisher's area. We talked for a few and then went to find a good place to wait and watch for my dad to finish. Andrea stood in front of the finish line, and we found a place just beyond. As soon as I heard his name I started shouting, startling the volunteers that were on the inside of the finish line area. Oops! :)
I'm so so proud of my dad. It's so fun to see him running again!

We didn't hang around long. After taking some pictures we decided to leave. Scott, Dad, and I were hopeful we could have late check out so we didn't have to drive the long drive being stinky.

This is my third year to run RussVegas. I've loved it more each time. The first two years I got a PR each time so I wasn't sure if my opinion of the race was bias because of that. Turns out it's not. The course is beautiful; a good mix of backroads lined with beautiful green trees and busy city roads full of distractions. The spectators, aid and spirit stations have always been great! And the medals rank up there in my top favorites. I definitely love this race and already look forward to next year!

Stay tuned, one week after RussVegas I ran the National Women's Half Marathon in Washington DC! Hopefully that recap is coming soon. :-D

Lucky #13

If the number 13 is unlucky, then I can't wait for my next half marathon! :-D

Today I PR'd at my 13th half marathon. I PR'd despite humid and warm conditions. Despite the course being full of hills. Despite worries and concerns over things I could not control.

Training for Soaring Wings was... interesting. I was following the Runner's World Break 2 plan. It had 4-5 runs per week with one speed day and one long run. The other 2-3 runs were short and easy. It blew my mind. How can a plan that has me doing long runs at a 10:20-10:30 pace, get me to a sub 2 finishing time?? I wasn't actually following the plan so that I could break 2 this time around. I said that all through training. I just wanted to see what the plan was like. However, the closer the race got, the more I considered the goal of breaking 2 hours. I didn't want to commit to it though. I wanted perfect conditions for that goal. Even though, no race will ever have perfect conditions. But could I at least deal with weather OR elevation, and not both? lol

I didn't want to add pressure or psych myself out, so by this morning my goal was to finish, hopefully in the lower range of my previous finish times, with a sub goal of possibly breaking 2. I figured if I wasn't able to get under 2 hours, then then more than likely I wouldn't PR either. I was fine with whatever the outcome would be. Or so I thought.

We got to the start line and only had to wait about 10 minutes until the first wave started. I wanted to start with the 2 hour pacer and just see how things went. After a prayer, and the National Anthem, the first wave was sent off. Expected finishing times between 2:00-2:15 were in wave two, so we only waited about 2-3 minutes before it was our turn.

Being well acquainted with a course can be good, or bad. I'm not totally sure which I would prefer. This was my 8th time to do Soaring Wings. (Just two short of being a part of every race from the start. This was their 10th anniversary!) So I remember every hill, and every turn. It's sort of nice to know when to prepare for the big ones, but at the same time, anticipating the hills can be mentally exhausting. I tried very hard to stay in the moment from the very start. Mile by mile. Step by step. Shortly after one mile, Scott and I passed the pacers. I was feeling pretty good, but I didn't want to give it all I had right from the start. Especially knowing that the second half of this course is the hardest.

I have no idea how far behind me the two pacers were for the amount of time they were behind me, but I stayed ahead for a surprisingly long time. For the next 8+ miles I was in front. I tried to keep that thought in mind as I made my way through the course. There was little else for me to focus on. I had my music and I would sing along in my head if I needed a distraction. Mostly though, this was one of the quietest Soaring Wings races I have done. And it wasn't just because our regular supporters, my parents and kids, weren't able to make it. (Half way to the race their truck broke down :( ) The course was still covered in wonderful spectators and volunteers at aid stations. But for whatever reason, maybe because I was trying to focus so much, I don't remember or have much to say about the middle 9 miles. Nothing other than going up and down, and up and down... and up and down another hill. :)

Somewhere around the 9 mile marker, I took my first walk. My legs and brain were in a massive argument over what to do. Going for a major goal will hurt. I know this. I also felt like I could not possibly run another step. So I got off to the side and walked. But only for a second because that's when I realized the pacers were RIGHT behind me. I said, "Nope nope nope," out loud and began running again. About half a mile or so later it was another uphill where I slowed down and the pacers were right next to me. I said something to them about how I had hoped to stay ahead. The two were very sweet and encouraging, but I can't remember what they said. They passed me and all of a sudden I realized how badly I had actually wanted to break 2. Even as I was telling myself it was fine, that it could still happen, I felt my breathing get erratic- The beginnings of what I've started calling a running panic attack. No matter how much I tell myself it's ok, and how much try to breath, something else inside me takes over and I lose control. One of the pacers heard whatever noise I made and told me I was fine and that I'd pass them on the downhill. I fell a little further behind and she kept encouraging me. Then I started with the full on attack and she was saying something that I wish I could hear, but know she was telling me to keep going, in a way. Through tears and gasping breaths I said I was ok and let myself walk to get it together.

I have no idea how long it actually took. I feel like it wasn't too long. I could still see the pacers ahead of me, and the 2:05 pacers were still somewhere behind me. If I could stay ahead of them I'd still be doing better than I thought I would be doing when I started the race. Between the mile 10 marker and about 11 1/2 miles Scott and I ran, slower than we had been, but we ran. It felt like I was dragging. Little did I know that Scott had also began to struggle.
A little past 11 1/2 or so I was done. I had been replaying a moment in my head from the Little Rock marathon weekend 10k. I was going for a 10k PR. We had something like a mile left to go and I knew I had my PR. In fact, we were way ahead of what I needed to get it. So I told Scott we could slow down and still get the PR. He then said to me, "Why? Why wouldn't you push?" That memory helped for a little bit, but I truly felt like in that moment all I could give was a walk. When I walked, Scott said thank you. Turns out, we both needed it. We walked to the mile 12 marker. I'm not sure how long it was. It felt like a while, but I think it actually wasn't as long as we thought. We had just one mile left. 1.1 to be exact. And that was if we didn't go by our tracking devices. My watch had been measuring at least .1 ahead for about 3 miles already. We walked one more time a little past 12 1/2. Scott's heart rate was too high, and I'd rather walk the rest of the race, than have either of us be in that much pain or struggling. I can't say I felt better, but I did feel stronger. I don't know how that even makes sense, but it's how it was. Scott and I compliment each other so well. He helps me through the middle (and often times whole first half) and I help him through the last however much.

In that last mile, I was thinking MAYBE I'd still PR, but even if not, I knew it would be one of my better finishing times.
We made the last turn and I talked to Scott the whole way down the chute. Someone on the sidelines shouted Scott's name and I think that helped too. We crossed the line, and my favorite part of the whole race was here. Not finishing. But receiving my medal from one of the children I had just been running for. The kids who live on Soaring Wings Ranch are the ones who hand out the medals at the finish line. It's beyond special.

We snagged some snacks from the finisher's chute and then went to the tent where we could get a print out of our stats right away. That is when I found out I had definitely PR'd! Who knew, going into this hilly and humid race day, that I would actually set another personal record?! ...Lots of my supporters actually. They all have way more belief in my ability than I do. Apparently so did another participant. Just after I received my medal I heard someone say, "You made it!" I looked over and there was a lady who I had seen off and on along the course who seemed to possibly have the same goal of a sub 2 finish time as well. I realized she was talking to me and thanked her. She told me when the pacer group had passed me she saw me and was hoping I'd make it. We talked for a couple minutes and she hugged me. This, y'all, this is what the running community is about. I love it so much. I don't know this lady. But she was rooting for me when I didn't even know it. She made a point to say something to me when I finished. I wish I had thought to get her name. I did ask how she did. According to her Garmin she had just barely broke 2 hours. I told her that's what counted, but I happened to be behind her at the tent when she got her official time and loved watching her celebrate when she saw that she truly did break 2 hours. I wanted to jump up and down with her. These are the moments that matter.
Finishing stats:
Chip time- 2:01:35
Chip pace- 9:17
Overall place- 174 out of 867
Female age group place- 14 out of 89

Many things about today did not go the way the obsessive planner in me would have liked. From the weather, to my parents and kids only making it halfway before having to turn around and go home, to blisters (UGH!), but the one thing that did go right... The one thing that matters; my 13th half marathon. It just happens to be my favorite race. And I just happened to PR.

Lucky #13. ;)