I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

Posts tagged ‘marathon’

Fat and Happy? 

It’s February and I’m afraid to weigh myself. 

I hate to say that I’m one of those people, but I started the year really well on a detox. I lost my marathon weight and was feeling better. I won’t post all the details here, but I went to the doctor one day and left feeling fat and frustrated, so I’ve been slowly but surely returning to my habits. 

I am seeing that it isn’t so much the taste of unhealthy food that I crave, but I have allowed my life to become so busy that I prefer the “liberation” of not planning workouts or meals. Of course, the word of the Lord proves true for me – I am not at peace when I do not keep the law, or healthy living, in this case. 
I must say, however, that there is much hope in my most recent race performances. Shortly after the marathon, I was concerned that I was permanently slower than I have been. I see now that this is not the case. I am coming close to some of my best times – and I am fat. That is AWESOME. That means if I get it together and get my vision back, the best shape of my life could still be ahead of me. 

Some dilemma, no? I could be healthier and faster but I don’t feel like planning my meals and doing tough workouts right now. Joan. Seriously? What if Baby J comes on the scene in 2018 and it’s game over for the time being? What if life just happens and I get an injury that sets me back? I am happy that my body seems to have bounced back from my marathon, but Lord knows I will be truly happy only when I place some restraint on myself and work toward the best body I can. He gave it to me! Can’t have all the cupcakes! 

Great. Expectations.

It should come as no surprise that since my marathon finish, I have been thinking about not only what I should do next but also my marathon performance. How I handle the first depends upon my feelings about the second.

So. How did I do?

To be honest, while I am proud to be able to check something off of my bucket list, I think I could have done better. I was unsure of my preparation, even though I have never followed any plan perfectly and I have a 100% finish rate *knock on wood,* and thought it best to run conservatively; about a minute slower than my projected ability. I know the next time I have any race, I will not have a wedding with which I must contend to interfere with my training. It was naive of me to think as I was training that I would be a one and done marathoner, the way I have been (thus far!) with my 70.3. Running brings me such joy and while sometimes I hate training, I have never had less than fabulous time at a goal race. That being said, if given the chance to run my first marathon again, I would approach race day in the same way. Had I run at my projected pace and felt like I had to drag myself across the finish line or worry that I would burn out, I think I would regret going too fast and I would be beating myself up for that. Seems silly to beat myself up to do what I felt was best to finish, especially given that it was something to “get out of the way” before Adonis and I try for a Girl J.

What’s next?

I had envisioned 2017 to be the year where I back off from long races so that I could focus on preparing my body for a Girl J. 5ks, 10ks, just working on being fit. However, completing the marathon cemented something for me that I should have realized earlier – shorter races don’t bring me the same joy that longer races do. When I think about how I feel when I finish 5ks or 10ks, it is usually something like, “Whew! Glad that’s over!” Finishing half-marathons has consistently been more thrilling for me. Even in my training, my favorite part of the week is my long run, although it scares me every time. While I don’t want to run another marathon in 2017, I would like to squeeze in one more while I am still running for one, tee hee.

2013 was the year I discovered I can run. 2014 was the year of the triathlon. I don’t know what the hell happened in 2015, but 2016 was the year of the marathon. Here is to 2017 being the year of the half!

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Not the time to ask me which me(t/d)al means more to me. #marathonfinisher #stillmarried

 

God, Garmin, and Good Judgment. Race Report

Perfume. 

Lipstick. 

Earrings. 

Go to the bathroom as much as possible. 

Thank God for all He has provided me, also think of sins for which I need forgiveness so earthly payment doesn’t come due during the race. 

The last one in that checklist (perhaps the last two, tee hee) especially should indicate my level of anxiety. I try, imperfectly of course, to be thankful regularly, and I don’t think of God as my “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” kind of partner, but if there’s any day that I need a solid from the Lord, it’s today. The fabulous 3M had just texted me an excerpt from Hebrews 12, something I had reminded myself before my 70.3 and was trying to keep in mind –

12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Hebrews 12:1-3 (NIV)

Yes, Joan. While there is joy at the finish line set before me, the marathon is not the cross. Remember this today. Any pain I experience, while important to God, likely won’t approach crucifixion levels. 

I found the 5:45 pacer and asked him what his plan was. Murray said he was going to run for 2 minutes at about 12 min mile pace and do a brisk walk for 1 minute. He said that while he’s not an official Galloway pacer, running steadily at a 13:10 pace seemed too slow. Fair enough! I figured I wouldn’t get in trouble and go out too fast if I chilled with Murray, so I lined up with him in the corral after hugging my amazing family and saying a prayer with them. 


The horn for which I’ve trained for months finally sounded. I wiped away tears of excitement and awe that this day is really here and walked toward the timing mat. The French horn opening of the first movement of Brahms 1st piano concerto set the mood in my ears for this part of my journey – grand, expansive, RUBATO! Not. Too. Fast. I stayed close to Murray* at the very beginning, but something didn’t feel right about it. I let him go and just paid attention to my Garmin. Mile 1 passes and I look down at my watch. 12:43. And Mr. 5:45 is AHEAD of me. Nope. 

A lady sidled up to me and asked what my plan was. “2/1, stay alive, finish under 6!” I replied. “Me too!” she answered. 

I need you to understand this. I had imagined that I might make a friend or two on the way to the finish line. It had been immensely helpful to me during my 70.3 to do the run with someone, and I will never forget her. So when I say that I was open to running the race with someone else despite preferring to train alone, you must know that I really meant it. 

This was not that someone. 

Roz* from New Jersey was running this marathon on her journey to join the 50 states marathon club. This marked marathon number 15 for this running coach who would NOT. STOP. TALKING. She asked me about my training, and I judged her as I answered her stupid questions politely. I say her questions were stupid because they were questions for which I could presumably have wrong answers. If I did something wrong in my training, what the hell am I supposed to do about it now in mile 2 of the marathon? Turn around? Heffa, please. Performance day is just that. Make it work now, ask questions later. 

Still, I thought the Christian thing to do was to deal with her neediness. Some people need people to boss around to feel useful. I turned up my music and nodded and smiled as she went on about herself. I asked cogent questions. Everyone runs differently and if I can help someone run the best race she can, I can handle a bit of annoyance. 

Jim* rolled up on us around the 5k point. He was talking with Roz and it turned out he was already in the 50 states club. I was thankful for Jim because he took some of the pressure off of me. He wasn’t with us for very long, to which Roz said, “some people just need to show off and talk about themselves to new people!” I burst out laughing at the irony of her observation. “Don’t laugh too hard, Joan. 23.1 to go – save your breath!” I thought. 

At mile 5, I decided to use the toilet. JUST in case. I wasn’t feeling a pressing need to go, but my colleague at work who just completed her first marathon said that it’s better to go in the beginning rather than later. What could it hurt? Plus, I was hoping Roz would go ahead of me. Well, she did, but not for long. A mile or so later, she stopped to refill her water and said she would be behind me. “Okay!” It took a LOT of willpower to stay at my current pace and not purposely speed up to put distance between us. I suppose I have more faith in my patience than I do my legs. 

The marathon and half-marathon courses were concurrent for about the first 7 miles. Then it got REAL lonely out there, man. It looked like I was going into the wilderness. I was actually thankful for Roz’s yelling behind me because I didn’t see a single soul ahead of me. Disconcerting, y’all. It wasn’t too long before I saw some more cones, cops, and the winner headed in the opposite direction toward the finish line. Confirmation of the correct path was comforting, indeed. 

As the race continued, I felt pains that worried me. My left hamstring in mile 8. My right calf in mile 13. I prayed for them and pressed forward. I stayed focused on my 2/1 intervals and the miles just came to me, one by one. I smiled as I enjoyed the music of the clearly brilliant person who created this playlist. I shrugged and sighed as I caught up to and passed Murray, who told me he didn’t think he was going to make it in 5:45. 

Speaking of the aforementioned brilliance, I had tried to time the gospel music around mile 19 – when I projected I might be questioning my life choices most. “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” “My Tribute.” “How Great Thou Art.” Naturally, I chose really powerful arrangements that evoked great emotion. Too much emotion. I started to think about how amazing God is and tears came to my eyes. I felt tingles all over. I glanced down to look at my heart rate. 

TWO.

O.

BLOODY.

FIVE. 

OKAY GOD PLEASE HELP MY HEART RATE COME DOWN BECAUSE I HAVE NEARLY TWO HOURS OF RACE LEFT IN JESUS’ NAME AMEN

Not the most artful prayer, admittedly. I slowed my walking and that helped. I drank more water from my trusty CamelBak. Every sip tasted heavenly, so I can assume by this point I was likely dehydrated. I didn’t want to have my stomach sloshing around with water and honey stingers, but I suppose my trying not to drink too much didn’t help my tingly euphoria. 

By mile 22, my heart rate was still sky high on my run intervals. I didn’t like it. I am confident God brought me Roz for this one piece of advice – “if you get tired, switch your run time to your walk time. That way you don’t lose hope or momentum.” I went from 2/1 to 1:30/1:30. I checked the clock. I had an hour to meet my time goal. I could do that with a speedy walk if I needed to. I stayed in the shade as much as possible. 

I saw some volunteers by the stadium where the race had begun. “This way to glory?” I asked. “Yes ma’am!” 

Then the most beautiful thing happened. 

As I caught sight of the finish line, the recap of the Brahms concerto with which I had begun the race was starting. I don’t know that I can properly describe how fitting this was – to hear that moment in the music at just that time, but it brought the biggest smile to my face. To be back where I started but in a completely different way – just like the music! was nothing short of perfection. I turned on to the track and saw my awesome Mommy. “Hi Mom!” “Hey Jo!” as she whipped out her camera. “You’re almost there!” The clock read 5:55:26 as I crossed the timing mat. I. Win. 

I serve a God that allows for so much more than finishing the race. I finished the marathon with BOTH arms in the air, a bright smile, and Brahms in my ears. He is a cherry on top kind of God. My prayer is that I can keep this moment close to me forever as I continue running with Him and toward Him. 


*- I don’t change names to protect anyone who annoys me. 

Marathon Test: Pre-race report 

6 days ago, I made a playlist for my last long run of my marathon training. My idea was to choose one type of music per mile. Typically, I choose what I want to run to strategically anyhow, but for long distances I put it on shuffle so whatever comes, comes! I thought it fitting to name the playlist “Marathon Test.” 

My test playlist was going fabulously well! 7 miles…no. 7.68 miles in. Bob Marley is playing. I was loving the run and the next thing I knew, boom. I was yelling on my way to the ground. My foot had caught a raised part in the sidewalk and I fell. HARD. 


Naturally, my first concern was my musician’s hands. Aside from the nasty abrasion, they were fine. However, when I tried to get up, I realized I couldn’t put pressure on my right hand because my shoulder was killing me. “Faaaaantastic. My race is in a week and I just may have put it in jeopardy.”

I spent the week icing it and spending quality time with the chiropractor. Fast forward to today and I am in Jacksonville, where I can now put on a shirt without grimacing! God is good, indeed. He is also hilarious because my period came this week, just as it had for my 70.3 two years ago. Between imagining what it would be like to cross the finish line, normal hormonal swings, the end of the quarter at work, and my concern for my shoulder, I have been an emotional hot mess. It is really important to me that I finish, not just because I want to finish everything I start but because I want to get this out of the way before preparing my body for a Little Joanie! I don’t know if I can handle marathon training taking over my life again any time soon, regardless of how I finish. 

I haven’t been feeling particularly confident, as my training was far from perfect. I wasn’t even in the mood to get my nails done and eyebrows waxed, a vital pre goal race tradition. While I am not a superstitious person, it felt like a bad idea to forego my prettification. My nail tech, Alexa, asked me what brought me to the shop. “I’m running my first marathon!” She paused and then replied, “Awesome. You’ve got strong legs,” as she massaged them for me. Another lady at the shop, several minutes later, said the same thing. “Your legs look strong.” 

As I pondered their words, I continued work on my playlist. I was about to change the title from Marathon Test to something else, but it dawned on me that my race tomorrow is, in fact, the ultimate test. Did I put in sufficient time training? Will I have the will to continue as the race progresses? Is my body strong or are these women looking for a tip? 

May I awaken tomorrow to discover the truth, knowing I will be accompanied by the perfect color for my sure to be tired feet.

What I learned from marathon training 

Negativity is bad. Like, really, really bad. 

Not the kind of bad that lets you know up front that it is bad, like tickets to a Browns game or a $25 sandwich at the airport terminal. It’s the insidious kind that pretends to be on your side, like shots of tequila giving you ‘courage’ before you end up falling on your face. 

Negativity would show up to my training sessions handsomely dressed as Realism or Caution. It wouldn’t say to me, “Joan, you can’t finish” or “Joan, why are you doing this.” It would say, “Be careful or you won’t hit your pace!” “Don’t expect a good training day because you haven’t been perfect with your diet!” I would find myself going faster than I needed to in the beginning of runs because of fear and inevitably end up tired in the middle, thus affirming my negative thoughts before I caught on to what was happening.

The only effective method I have for combating Negativity is to simply keep showing up. I will admit that there were times over the last 16 weeks where I allowed it to beat me, but overall, I believe I won. I will not be able to confirm my victory until tomorrow at about 1 PM EST, but for all the times I felt like giving up, fearing that I am unworthy of the starting line of a marathon, there were many more that I fought through and finished. 

Let’s hope that the 15 pounds I’ve gained are pure courage. 

Bad Mother On The (Long) Run

“Giving birth would be AWESOME.” 

How did I get there, you ask? It only took me 8 miles. 

You see, I woke up feeling quite nervous about today’s long run, the first of my 16 weeks of marathon training. Generally speaking, I tend to get worked up about my workouts, because I want them to go well, but especially about my long runs. Am I ready for today’s journey? Indeed, each time I feel I am embarking to an unknown destination, despite the fact that I have run this particular distance -and longer – several times in the past. And you know what? Let’s be real. Every long run is different because I am different. How was my sleep? Nutrition? Stress level? Fitness? Hah, we’re about to find out if whoever I am this week is sufficient. 

Hurricane Hermine not only extended my weekend but also provided some lovely weather for today’s journey. If I could write a weather system a thank you note, I would. I was surprised that I had to actually slow down to run the pace in my plan. “Maybe I don’t suck!” Said I, after mile 1. “Too early to tell,” I retorted. “We are tight,” my legs squealed. “Shut up, we’ll be done eventually,” I said with a grimace. “You need to lose weight,” squeaked my running skort. “Tomorrow,” I said, crossing my fingers. 

I am pleased to report that on this day, I was able to outrun my negative thoughts and complete my long run, feeling strong. As I approached my car, I looked at my reflection in the window. I was drenched in sweat. I giggled and took the obligatory selfie. It dawned on me that I never view myself as more beautiful than when I finish a long run. My accomplishment makes me both glisten and glow. No makeup, no jewelry – just one foot in front of the other until it’s done. Naturally, the longer the run, the more beautiful I’ll be, I figure. So how could I NOT think to myself –

“I bet I would look GORGEOUS after giving birth!” 

Put one in the ‘pro’ column for (biological) motherhood, y’all. 

Only 1:39 of labor.

“Just have fun!”

I’ve never been more insulted in my life.

The words in the title of this post were uttered by my dear Coachie. I was explaining to her that my long runs were proving to be hard on my left foot and that I am just mentally drained. She tells me, “You’re going to have most of next year to feel this way. Save your foot. Relax. Please consider a shorter distance in Jamaica. Just have fun!”

How could you say that to me?

I had been planning to do this marathon in Jamaica since my birthday in May. I know I have the endurance to complete it since I did my 70.3. Coachie says she knows I would finish as well. These long runs, though! They just be so damn LONG, know what I mean? I suppose she is right – my season this year was fairly action packed. Nonetheless, it’s difficult not to feel like a slacker when I was planning to run a marathon and am going to run 10k instead to save my foot and my brain from fatigue.

Am I allowed to go to Jamaica and “just” run 10k? I am a practical person and do realize that this decision will allow for at LEAST 4 additional hours of drinking on the beach, but I am struggling not to feel like I’ve failed somehow. I was supposed to end my year like a badass by running my first marathon in another country and now I’m not.

Perhaps I have failed, but not in the way I think. I do have a habit of stretching myself fairly thin and becoming mad at myself for needing rest. As good as I look, I am a finite person with human needs for relaxation. Seriously, Coachie – I forgot that I have limits. Thank you for helping me to embrace those as well.

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