You know, I think I say this every time I run a race: I'm going to keep running after.
Up to this point, I have failed horribly at this! I like to rest on my laurels (and butt) and pat myself on the back for what discipline and stamina I have! Had, perhaps.
But this time, I'm really gonna do it. I would really like to run another half-marathon in a month or so. I can't just sit around and let the race come to me, I have to get ready for the new race!
Post-race, my knees were agony yesterday. I did a lot of stretching at work, and applied ice last night, and today my knees feel much much better. I'm going to ice again tonight and hopefully be right as rain tomorrow.
Speaking of rain, the weather is supposed to be cold and rainy tomorrow - maybe I'll take my first run on Thursday...
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Race Report: Edmonton Half Marathon
As an introduction, I have to confess that I was both ready and not ready for this race. Ready in that, technically, I had done the runs, worked on my fitness, and was pretty physically prepared as I was going to be. Not ready in that my head was a mess. Yesterday was spent dashing around town, doing this that and the other, and not relaxing and thinking my race through. I generally got stuck on, "Holy crap, I'm racing, it's going to be hot, what if I..." with a general end result that was worse than death, injury, or a bad time. I like to work myself up about the little stuff.
But I hydrated like (almost) a pro, despite the new research that constant hydration is possibly not the best thing for you (just like eggs, innocent last week, are apparently as bad as smoking, but I really don't know how you'd smoke an egg). I got my race kit ready, I set my alarm, I had my boyfriend informed, and all seemed ready to go.
I did get to the race on time, though the gear check signs were a little misleading (an arrow pointed left means left, an arrow pointed up means go through this break in the fence). I got all checked in, tried to find an appropriate start place (which ended up being just behind the 2:30 pace bunny), and all too soon, we were heading out.
The route, I knew, was going to be an out-and-back, from the Northlands Park down to Somewhere in the River Valley. I started off very confident and strong (despite yesterday's emotional upheaval). Despite a frequently patched-and-rutted road (thank you, Edmonton City Council), I was moving strong, and had to remind myself that my pace target was 6:00m/km, not 5:45, or even worse, 5:30. The thing I loved was the very strong Edmonton Police Service presence, and got a high-five from a cop as I went by. I think I may make this a race custom, if I can. The first five kilometers were not through a necessarily pretty area of Edmonton, despite the River Valley on the left side. After that, we started moving closer to downtown, and the last unprettiness is the unscenic pre-Chinatown area. However, there was no Lilydale packing plant, so Edmonton wins on that.
Since we ran across Chinatown instead of through, I did not say a thing about stopping for dim-sum. I was already starting to feel some wear on my body, but kept on truckin'. Through downtown Edmonton, we raced right by Allison's apartment building (if she weren't racing, I'd have stopped for a break), and through a little arch into Railtown. Starting with the Edmonton Veterinary Emergency Clinic, the place was rife with cheerers-on, applauders, and signs. Many were the usual 'You're Doing Great!' or 'Keep Going', but some were fun, like 'Why Do All the Pretty Girls Run Away From Me?' I shouted over my shoulder, "Because we're hoping you're chasing!"
After Railtown, with all its lovely shade, we passed by the Royal Alberta Museum, and it was about this time, at 8km that my left knee started to make its presence known. Not the usual gentle, "Um, I beg your pardon," but the, "Oi, what the hell do you think you're doing up there?" It was a pain on the outside of the kneecap, so I'm pretty sure it's rejecting the runner lifestyle. Or whatever, I didn't care. I had passed the 2:30 pace bunny and was feeling strong, despite my knee. In fact, I think I passed a fair number of people at this time. Down 102 Ave we went, and suddenly, it seemed like heaven - people were turning! Thank goodness, the turn around point!
I was a little self-delusional at this point. No, the corner was not the turn-around point (as anyone who had really studied the race map would have told me), there was still another kilometer and some in the affluent neighbourhood of People-Who-Don't-Listen-To-Insurance-Companies-Or-Common-Sense. Yes, it's the beautiful neighbourhood along the River Valley where homes have been known to slide into the river below because they were built too close to the edge. Fortunately, no homes fell in today, and we safely made it past the turn-around point and again into shade.
On my way back, around 11km, my right knee was starting to complain too. I would take extra walk breaks, and for a while, Advil helped a bit. However, after leaving downtown, there was little shade. I tried to take my last Advil, and it fell to the ground. To hell with it. Keep going. Once I passed the 18km marker, I realized I really could finish this in a suitable time. My hamstring had felt a bit achey on and off, but I really felt that 3km more was not going to be much of a problem. By then I had my fellow racers who I could not lose against (one of whom turned out to be doing the marathon, bless her), and I made it, and kept it, past them. Walk breaks were a risk, though - every time I took one, it took longer to start up running again. I would do the stiff-knee waddle for a little while before whatever was hurting warmed up (or just resigned itself to a life of servitude and pain). I took one more walk-break at 21km before realizing that, unlike the Calgary 10km, my own home city wouldn't lull me into thinking 0.1km was not that far away. I started to run again, and kept up a powerful (at the time, for me, it was powerful), up around the bend, through the first arch, and up the little hillet to the second arch, and I was done! DONE!
It turns out that I came in at 2 hours, 17 minutes, and 24 seconds, another 10 minutes off my last half marathon time! I'm very happy with this.
Now, it's naptime.
But I hydrated like (almost) a pro, despite the new research that constant hydration is possibly not the best thing for you (just like eggs, innocent last week, are apparently as bad as smoking, but I really don't know how you'd smoke an egg). I got my race kit ready, I set my alarm, I had my boyfriend informed, and all seemed ready to go.
I did get to the race on time, though the gear check signs were a little misleading (an arrow pointed left means left, an arrow pointed up means go through this break in the fence). I got all checked in, tried to find an appropriate start place (which ended up being just behind the 2:30 pace bunny), and all too soon, we were heading out.
The route, I knew, was going to be an out-and-back, from the Northlands Park down to Somewhere in the River Valley. I started off very confident and strong (despite yesterday's emotional upheaval). Despite a frequently patched-and-rutted road (thank you, Edmonton City Council), I was moving strong, and had to remind myself that my pace target was 6:00m/km, not 5:45, or even worse, 5:30. The thing I loved was the very strong Edmonton Police Service presence, and got a high-five from a cop as I went by. I think I may make this a race custom, if I can. The first five kilometers were not through a necessarily pretty area of Edmonton, despite the River Valley on the left side. After that, we started moving closer to downtown, and the last unprettiness is the unscenic pre-Chinatown area. However, there was no Lilydale packing plant, so Edmonton wins on that.
Since we ran across Chinatown instead of through, I did not say a thing about stopping for dim-sum. I was already starting to feel some wear on my body, but kept on truckin'. Through downtown Edmonton, we raced right by Allison's apartment building (if she weren't racing, I'd have stopped for a break), and through a little arch into Railtown. Starting with the Edmonton Veterinary Emergency Clinic, the place was rife with cheerers-on, applauders, and signs. Many were the usual 'You're Doing Great!' or 'Keep Going', but some were fun, like 'Why Do All the Pretty Girls Run Away From Me?' I shouted over my shoulder, "Because we're hoping you're chasing!"
After Railtown, with all its lovely shade, we passed by the Royal Alberta Museum, and it was about this time, at 8km that my left knee started to make its presence known. Not the usual gentle, "Um, I beg your pardon," but the, "Oi, what the hell do you think you're doing up there?" It was a pain on the outside of the kneecap, so I'm pretty sure it's rejecting the runner lifestyle. Or whatever, I didn't care. I had passed the 2:30 pace bunny and was feeling strong, despite my knee. In fact, I think I passed a fair number of people at this time. Down 102 Ave we went, and suddenly, it seemed like heaven - people were turning! Thank goodness, the turn around point!
I was a little self-delusional at this point. No, the corner was not the turn-around point (as anyone who had really studied the race map would have told me), there was still another kilometer and some in the affluent neighbourhood of People-Who-Don't-Listen-To-Insurance-Companies-Or-Common-Sense. Yes, it's the beautiful neighbourhood along the River Valley where homes have been known to slide into the river below because they were built too close to the edge. Fortunately, no homes fell in today, and we safely made it past the turn-around point and again into shade.
On my way back, around 11km, my right knee was starting to complain too. I would take extra walk breaks, and for a while, Advil helped a bit. However, after leaving downtown, there was little shade. I tried to take my last Advil, and it fell to the ground. To hell with it. Keep going. Once I passed the 18km marker, I realized I really could finish this in a suitable time. My hamstring had felt a bit achey on and off, but I really felt that 3km more was not going to be much of a problem. By then I had my fellow racers who I could not lose against (one of whom turned out to be doing the marathon, bless her), and I made it, and kept it, past them. Walk breaks were a risk, though - every time I took one, it took longer to start up running again. I would do the stiff-knee waddle for a little while before whatever was hurting warmed up (or just resigned itself to a life of servitude and pain). I took one more walk-break at 21km before realizing that, unlike the Calgary 10km, my own home city wouldn't lull me into thinking 0.1km was not that far away. I started to run again, and kept up a powerful (at the time, for me, it was powerful), up around the bend, through the first arch, and up the little hillet to the second arch, and I was done! DONE!
It turns out that I came in at 2 hours, 17 minutes, and 24 seconds, another 10 minutes off my last half marathon time! I'm very happy with this.
Now, it's naptime.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Jelly's Somewhat Removed Report of the Canadian Death Race
As I mentioned previously, my boyfriend did the Canadian Death Race in Grande Cache, AB this past weekend.
At first, I wasn't going to be joining him, but one thing derouled into another, and I got to go. I wasn't running, just cheerleading, but a weekend of camping (despite my novice camper status) was too good to be denied.
Especially with the eye-candy provided by ultra-runners.
Anyways, we took off on Friday at around noon. It takes about five hours to get to Grande Cache from Edmonton, but the going is pretty smooth. Getting the day off was also no problem, because my boss was also competing.
The drive to Grande Cache was uneventful, and we made good time. Upon arrival, we discovered that Ragnar's team had a little cluster of tents in 'Tent City'. We had been warned that space would be rare, so we brought a little 2-man tent with us - however, we could have easily fit our borrowed 5-man tent!
The group also had no fire pit. But no! These are army engineers, of course they will build a fire pit! Except no one had a shovel. Ragnar's friend had just sharpened his axe and Ragnar probably wouldn't want me volunteering his tomahawk (don't ask me why he has one, it just is that way), so they were left to their own sticks, rocks, and devices. They're a resourceful lot, though, and as us womenfolk (numbering two) looked on, the boys got a nice fire going.
I sat up with my friends, chatting and showing chutzpah in licker-drinkins' (even if I don't like the taste, I'll swig it like a good Alberta-strong girl). Eventually we went to be... er, sleeping bag, and slept.
Saturday was more tense. The race was done in relay, and the first two runners had had a fair amount to drink the night before. However, they got their runs done, and suddenly Ragnar was carted away to do leg 4 of the race. I had been just been coming back from the out-houses (FYI, Death Race outhouses are beautifully maintained - cleaned once a day! Can you imagine?), so I didn't get to go with him.
Ragnar's friend would be doing the leg after him (the last one), but leg 4 was the killer - it's called the Hamel Assault for good reason. You go up a mountain (Mt. Hamel, in fact), go around, come down a bit, and then go back up again. At one point in the leg, I got a call from Ragnar. He was quite out of breath, and dismayed to tell me that he had underestimated Mt. Hamel - he was going slower than he thought, and he didn't think he'd make the time he'd estimated. However, since he was out of breath, I got only half the message, and eventually, it was a good thing I did.
Ragnar's friend, his wife, and I hung around for a little longer, and then accepted a drive to the relay point where Ragnar's friend would take over the race. At this point, I was keeping an eye out for my boss (who had actually passed the point three or so hours earlier), but it was good we arrived when we did. Friend got a text about 10km out from Ragnar, and my own calculations were that he could do that in about 45 minutes.
And so he did. As Ragnar was pounding into the chute to the last leg, catching his breath, and generally not-falling-over, he revealed that due to the elevations of the mountain, there were some points that his Garmin watch wasn't getting GPS signals, so he thought he was doing 10min/km, rather than the 7min/km reality. Thank goodness I didn't really hear him say something like, "I'm going to be an hour late," because then the last leg would have started later.
We left Grande Cache on Sunday, Ragnar content to let his teammate pick up the medallions for the team. They finished 53rd overall, which I figure is pretty good for a first time.
As for me, I'll definitely be going back. Who knows, maybe I'll run a leg myself...
At first, I wasn't going to be joining him, but one thing derouled into another, and I got to go. I wasn't running, just cheerleading, but a weekend of camping (despite my novice camper status) was too good to be denied.
Especially with the eye-candy provided by ultra-runners.
Anyways, we took off on Friday at around noon. It takes about five hours to get to Grande Cache from Edmonton, but the going is pretty smooth. Getting the day off was also no problem, because my boss was also competing.
The drive to Grande Cache was uneventful, and we made good time. Upon arrival, we discovered that Ragnar's team had a little cluster of tents in 'Tent City'. We had been warned that space would be rare, so we brought a little 2-man tent with us - however, we could have easily fit our borrowed 5-man tent!
The group also had no fire pit. But no! These are army engineers, of course they will build a fire pit! Except no one had a shovel. Ragnar's friend had just sharpened his axe and Ragnar probably wouldn't want me volunteering his tomahawk (don't ask me why he has one, it just is that way), so they were left to their own sticks, rocks, and devices. They're a resourceful lot, though, and as us womenfolk (numbering two) looked on, the boys got a nice fire going.
I sat up with my friends, chatting and showing chutzpah in licker-drinkins' (even if I don't like the taste, I'll swig it like a good Alberta-strong girl). Eventually we went to be... er, sleeping bag, and slept.
Saturday was more tense. The race was done in relay, and the first two runners had had a fair amount to drink the night before. However, they got their runs done, and suddenly Ragnar was carted away to do leg 4 of the race. I had been just been coming back from the out-houses (FYI, Death Race outhouses are beautifully maintained - cleaned once a day! Can you imagine?), so I didn't get to go with him.
 |
| This is the elevation chart of the race. That big peak? Yeah, that was Ragnar's job. |
Ragnar's friend, his wife, and I hung around for a little longer, and then accepted a drive to the relay point where Ragnar's friend would take over the race. At this point, I was keeping an eye out for my boss (who had actually passed the point three or so hours earlier), but it was good we arrived when we did. Friend got a text about 10km out from Ragnar, and my own calculations were that he could do that in about 45 minutes.
And so he did. As Ragnar was pounding into the chute to the last leg, catching his breath, and generally not-falling-over, he revealed that due to the elevations of the mountain, there were some points that his Garmin watch wasn't getting GPS signals, so he thought he was doing 10min/km, rather than the 7min/km reality. Thank goodness I didn't really hear him say something like, "I'm going to be an hour late," because then the last leg would have started later.
We left Grande Cache on Sunday, Ragnar content to let his teammate pick up the medallions for the team. They finished 53rd overall, which I figure is pretty good for a first time.
As for me, I'll definitely be going back. Who knows, maybe I'll run a leg myself...
21km, Solo, Hot
This past weekend, when I was scheduled to do the 21km on Sunday morning, I was waking up in a tent in the wilds of Grande Cache, AB, where my boyfriend was participating in the Canadian Death Race.
Instead, I did the 21km run yesterday, which would have been nice had I not decided to run it at noon. (interjection: I wish we had HTML voice tone tags. That would be so useful)
Yes, at noon in Alberta's summer drop-dead heat, I was running 21km. I knew it wasn't the best of ideas when I made it to 3km and was looking at my watch. I had already taken my shirt off, and by 5km, was giving serious thought to packing it in.
Alas, no, the Pride of Jelly is not to be denied. Someone had mentioned doing a 10km run, and I was indignant. By the 6km mark, where I could have crossed the street and gone home, I turned the other way and continued. Up 97 St. I went, imagining how wonderful it would feel to toss 21km in someone's face in retribution. By 11km, the shirt actually went back on because I was getting cold chills which meant my core temperature was overheating. At 13km, I stopped again at Subway and availed myself to their cold fountain water. Through-out, I would stop under shade for a few minutes, and took far more walk-breaks than I usually do. By 15km, there was no stopping. I paused at the nearby church to take a photo of their advert sign ("Is your prayer well-done or rare?"), and continued.
The last 4km were the hardest. I was walking every 2-5 minutes, but I kept going, damnit. I even passed the last 'Go Home Now' point (17km) in order to get the full distance. The sun was beating down hot and repressing at 27C. I wasn't sure if the cold chills had given up the ghost or if I'd successfully beaten back over-heating.
Finally, I made it to 21km, right outside my house. I tramped back in, chucked down a glass of water and some salt chips, and went for the best cold shower ever. Well, it started warm, so as to not shock the system.
Let me say this: running long distances in heat is not fun. It can be done, but it sucks. If my race day doesn't begin at a beautiful 15C, the least the weather can give me is some cloud.
On the other hand, I met the wall on 21km, and I ... well, it didn't win, but I didn't either. But I can learn.
C'mon, Canadian Derby Half-Marathon, bring it on. Two weekends from now, I will win over you, and then I will eat a ridiculous brunch to celebrate.
Instead, I did the 21km run yesterday, which would have been nice had I not decided to run it at noon. (interjection: I wish we had HTML voice tone tags. That would be so useful)
Yes, at noon in Alberta's summer drop-dead heat, I was running 21km. I knew it wasn't the best of ideas when I made it to 3km and was looking at my watch. I had already taken my shirt off, and by 5km, was giving serious thought to packing it in.
Alas, no, the Pride of Jelly is not to be denied. Someone had mentioned doing a 10km run, and I was indignant. By the 6km mark, where I could have crossed the street and gone home, I turned the other way and continued. Up 97 St. I went, imagining how wonderful it would feel to toss 21km in someone's face in retribution. By 11km, the shirt actually went back on because I was getting cold chills which meant my core temperature was overheating. At 13km, I stopped again at Subway and availed myself to their cold fountain water. Through-out, I would stop under shade for a few minutes, and took far more walk-breaks than I usually do. By 15km, there was no stopping. I paused at the nearby church to take a photo of their advert sign ("Is your prayer well-done or rare?"), and continued.
The last 4km were the hardest. I was walking every 2-5 minutes, but I kept going, damnit. I even passed the last 'Go Home Now' point (17km) in order to get the full distance. The sun was beating down hot and repressing at 27C. I wasn't sure if the cold chills had given up the ghost or if I'd successfully beaten back over-heating.
Finally, I made it to 21km, right outside my house. I tramped back in, chucked down a glass of water and some salt chips, and went for the best cold shower ever. Well, it started warm, so as to not shock the system.
Let me say this: running long distances in heat is not fun. It can be done, but it sucks. If my race day doesn't begin at a beautiful 15C, the least the weather can give me is some cloud.
On the other hand, I met the wall on 21km, and I ... well, it didn't win, but I didn't either. But I can learn.
C'mon, Canadian Derby Half-Marathon, bring it on. Two weekends from now, I will win over you, and then I will eat a ridiculous brunch to celebrate.
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