26 Or Bust!

Up the hill. Down the hill. Up the hill. Down the hill. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Tuesday’s workout was ten rounds of sprinting up one of Prospect Park’s hills and shuffling down at a recovery pace. Ten long and painful rounds. The first time up, I started off too fast and barely thought I’d finish. After a few repetitions, I figured out the best pace to push myself hard the whole way without having to slow down at the top. By the sixth sprint, my legs felt like Jello when I turned to jog down. Eight reps had me ready to beg the coaches for mercy. As for that tenth and final push, well there wasn’t enough oxygen in the entire park to satisfy my lungs. I actually started breathing so hard that I panicked and found myself borderline hyperventilating the last few yards. Note to self—freaking out does not help you breathe. Elizabeth found that yoga breathing of shorter breaths helped her solve the same problem, so I’m going to give that a try next time.

The run had me thinking about the article from the New York Times that I posted a few weeks ago. On our recovery jogs down the mountain (that’s what it felt like near the end), we started talking about what each of us focused on to keep ourselves going on the way up. Some of us watched a point past the end of the course. Some focused on their elbows or arm swing instead of their feet. Most of us found we repeated a phrase in our heads. Maybe it was a piece of a song, part of a chant from yoga, or just a short string of words we made up. Amanda remembered a past coach told her he always said “I’m a runner” in his head as he ran, which we all found helped us out. It is not about what your saying, but simply about the beat of the phrase matching the rhythm of your feet. Quickly, you find yourself focused only on the words flying through your mind instead of your thighs burning or your lungs gasping. The chant takes over and your body just follows. For lack of a better way to put it, it’s a moving meditation.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want every training session to be sprinting hill repeats. However, it was a great demonstration of mind over matter. It doesn’t hurt either to know that the pain was worth it as it was a training session designed to make you stronger. The Nashville course is rumored to be filled with hills, so I guess I should just get used to it and be thankful for the extra endurance.

In September I started running. Only as far as Avenue P would my outings take me before I would head back home. On my way out to that turning point I knew that Coney Island—land of the Cyclone, Mermaid Parade, and a motley crowd of Brooklynites escaping summer’s heat—lay before me. A mere five miles away was a view of the ocean and a sense of freedom from the city’s concrete walls. At the time though, those few miles seemed a gauntlet I could only dream of conquering. Nonetheless, I set a goal to someday run to Coney Island and back.

On Sunday, I ran to the land of mermaids and home again. To climb onto the boardwalk and see the water stretching out in front of me was the most exhilarating moment of my training so far. I traveled down that rickety old boardwalk till I reached Stillwell Avenue, feeling triumphant. In the cold January air, the familiar landscape seemed different and new. In place of the tan, oiled men in Speedos sitting like kings on the beach, were people bundled up in parkas. No children ran by me, sticky with ice cream and crying for one more ride in Astroland. Instead strollers were pushed along with their cargos hidden under bundles of blankets. There were no flashing neon signs, no screams from the Cylcone, no smell of hot dogs and funnel cake. In the quiet, Coney Island felt like it belonged to me alone.

It was also a day of other, less exciting experiences. As my first lone long run (10.7 miles) I had to carry water and a snack for a mid-run energy boost. For hydration, my only option was carrying a hand held water bottle on a day that I couldn’t find my gloves. On top of that the motion of the water sloshing would throw off my tempo, so I had to swing the arm with the bottle as little as possible. The frustration prompted me to buy a fuel belt yesterday. While a bit ridiculous looking, it should be an improvement as both arms will be free to swing, the weight of the water will be evenly distributed on both hips, and the small bottles will minimize the motion of liquids inside. A chocolate Gu was my snack, which, fortunately, I had been warned would taste exactly like store-bought icing. Though skeptical at first, it wasn’t too bad and gave me the extra fuel to get back home without slowing down. I’m going to check out other flavors, as well as other food options such as jelly beans made for running. There’s a whole world of strange textures and flavors waiting to be discovered.

Five months ago, the desire to run to Coney Island was to me a Siren’s call as if running 5.3 miles would be the end of me. However, on Sunday, I was proven wrong as my feet carried me there and home again. I can only imagine that finishing the marathon will feel the same—an impossible dream fulfilled.

Yesterday, I came across a shocking article in the New York Times. I’ve known that the air quality in Beijing is poor and that it is a concern for the upcoming summer Olympics. However, I didn’t realize how serious the problem is. The article focuses on what the American teams are doing to combat the extreme pollution. One athlete, Jarrod Shoemaker, was quoted as saying that at the end of a race, “I could still taste the grit on my teeth.” I can’t even imagine the air you breathe being so foul as to leave noticeable particles on your teeth.

And I thought the air in New York City was bad!

Last Saturday’s run of 10 miles marked a point in my training I’ve been looking forward to since day one. While it’ll be another week or so until I hit the half-way point of 13.1 miles, the nice round number of 10 is a distance I never before thought I’d achieve. When I finished the run, it was a huge rush to know I’d finally reached that goal, but in the days that followed, the thrill quickly died away. I had promised myself a massage or facial as a treat when I got here, yet now, all I can think of are the next 16.2 miles. Maybe I’ll reserve my pat on the back for after next month’s half marathon in the Bronx. Right now, all I want is to run more and get a few miles closer to the marathon.

This past Tuesday we had our first test. No multiple choice or essays to write, it was a test to see what our mile pace is at this point in training. The course started with a mile, followed by a half-mile recovery, one more mile and a final half-mile recovery. The mile was run at a fast clip—not quite a sprint, but the fastest speed you thought you could maintain for an entire mile. With the handy new stop watch I bought (I was cheap and hit Kmart at lunch. I’ll save the $350 sports watch for my next marathon!), I timed each section of the course. The goal was to have the pace of the first mile and the second mile be no more than 30 seconds apart.

I was rather shocked that not only did I keep my times within 9 seconds of each other, but they were much quicker than I expected. My first mile pace was 8:01 minutes and my second 8:10 minutes. I credit my second time to the people running in front of and behind me. I started off a bit faster trying to keep up with the people ahead, but they were little too quick. As the gap between us slowly widened and the last quarter mile approached, I could hear someone just steps behind me. It gave me the boost I needed to push harder through the end as I felt determined to let no one pass me (probably because I was a hint disappointed that I couldn’t keep pace with the people ahead). A bit competitive of me, but at that point I was ready to draw on any feeling I could for extra energy.

Next week we start our hill training and will stick with that for the next six or seven Tuesday nights. After that, we’ll repeat this mile test to see how much stronger we’ve become. If I did this round faster than I thought possible, I’m excited to see how much better my times will be in two months!

That was my finish time for my first race, which I ran this past Saturday. It was the five-mile Fred Lebow Classic in Central Park. It was surprisingly fun. I ran with a friend I’ve met through Team In Training (TNT) and we met another TNT member during the race that we talked to for the rest of the course. As you can tell by my time, I really didn’t race the course. I just wanted it to be a good time and it was. The weather was great, the course fairly easy and, overall, a fantastic first race experience.

Most importantly, since I joined New York Road Runners (NYRR), it counts as my first race for 2008. If I complete eight more NYRR races this year, I’ll automatically qualify for the 2009 ING New York City marathon! How cool is that? I figure that if I can run 26.2 miles in Tennessee, I can run 26.2 in my own town. Guess for that I’ll need a “Bklyn 26 or Bust” website.

This week the New York Times had two great articles on running that are worth checking out. Mind over matter was the subject of the first article, looking at how focusing their mind on something other than running helps athletes go the distance. The second article was all about the science behind what makes a song an ideal work out soundtrack.

That line was hand-written on a T-shirt I saw last weekend and it got a chuckle out of me. It popped in my head again last night during our interval training.

A course was marked and we ran half of it almost sprinting and then half barely faster than a walk to recover. Doesn’t sound so bad, but after 50 minutes, it was a struggle. The last lap was surreal as my body felt like I was flying. I was on autopilot as my legs sped up, racing to the halfway point. My fatigued lungs couldn’t pull in enough air, but my feet just kept on going.

The very last lap a friend and I pushed for a full out sprint. Running like we stole something. I learned I haven’t got it in me to be a criminal.

Interval training is a key part to training, making you stronger and faster. I know this, but I’m looking forward to Saturday’s nice, slow paced 5-mile race.

As expected, Saturday was my first distance record with a solid eight mile run. Near the end was hard, but I kept telling myself that I would run past one more light post, one more light post, just one more. When I finally started to walk, it was three miles over what I had ever run before.

Was it exciting? Sure. Tiring? Yep. Hurt? A tiny bit. Best part? From here on out, every Saturday I will run farther than ever before. Every Saturday will be a new personal best.

It’s day two of the new year and week five of a new me. The miles will start to increase this week with a six to seven mile run on Saturday and then there’s no looking back. It really will be 26 or bust as I start building up to running 26.2 miles. That’s something I never thought I’d be able to do. Who am I kidding, I never thought I’d be able to run six miles! Saturday will mark my first major…well…first. It will be the first time in training that I can look at what I’ve done and say, “I never thought I’d be able to do that, but I just did.” The thought of that is down right amazing to me and has me psyched to head to the park Saturday morning. May this feeling of optimism and wonder last me through all six miles!

Speaking of things I never thought I’d be able to do, I’m closing in on the $600 mark in my fundraising. Yes, it’s still a few dollars short of my $6000 goal, but it’s more than I’ve ever raised before. Thank you to everyone that’s supported me already!

If you haven’t yet contributed, what better way to kick off the new year than with a donation to aid patients battling cancer? Just consider it fulfilling a new year’s resolution of helping others. January won’t even be over and you’ll be able to honestly say that you did see through on at least one resolution this year. Won’t that be a nice change?