Post-Race Running

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...

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.

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.

This is the elevation chart of the race. That big peak? Yeah, that was Ragnar's job.

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...

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.

Running 18k Ensemble

Given last week's lonely run, I got wise and went in to the Running Room to find out where the half-marathon group would be running from. It's a good thing, too, because they were running from a mildly obscure area in the River Valley, and starting an hour earlier.

Waking up at 6 a.m., I really did consider just running on my own, and stealing the extra sleeptime. However, I really didn't want to do the whole run on my own again, so I got up, ate my bowl of Cheerios and a slice of toast with peanut butter, and drove down to the starting site.

I started out rather slow, to maintain pace with someone who hadn't run since the 12k weekend. During the first 5km, we went down roads, into ravines, and down gravel hills that I dreaded coming back up. I kept up the chatter, as my running companion seemed to find my patter absolutely interesting - or she couldn't catch enough breath to interrupt me.

Right around 5km, my running buddy decided to head back, and conveniently, there was a bathroom stop just around the corner. Even more conveniently, the city employee had just arrived to open the locks on it. However, despite the five adoring women thanking him profusely, he did not seem terribly amused. I hope he remembers us fondly, because we sure will.

Anyways, continuing on, through the swelling hill-ettes and along the paths, we made it to 9km, and paused long enough to wait for everyone to catch up. By that point, I was extremely glad we'd started early, because despite the trees and the River Valley, the sun was hot and the mercury was rising. It was, of course, at that point that the rest of us discovered that the lead-pack had gotten lost twice. Whoopsie! However, we were close enough to downtown that I would have been able to find my way home (or at least given Ragnar enough direction to pick me up).

We headed back, and I was quite pleased that, not only were my knees reacting ... reasonably well, and my hip wasn't paining me nearly as much as last week. During the run back, it was time for more runners and bikers to be out, and I saw an example of bad road courtesy: a road biker was heading towards us, and shoved a walker out of the way, to the ground (though whether there was actual contact, I didn't see). He then took a moment to look back, but continued on his way. Mitigating circumstance: the walking group was not sharing the road either, and looked like they could be working off last night's hangover. Bad karma all 'round.

We stayed to the path on our way back, and I was not taking as many GU energy gels as I had expected. Speaking of GU, their Chocolate Outrage and Peanut Butter gels are pretty tasty. I just know I can't be the only person to think there needs to be a Chocolatey Peanut Butter Explosion.

Anyways, it was during the last 3.5km that I started really watching my watch. We were still going up and down hills, and my knees were letting me know about it. And just as we got to the end... Stairs. The dreaded River Valley Stairs loomed before me. The last time I had seen these stairs, I'd nearly puked, and I hate puking. But I did them, and found that, despite having elapsed nearly 17km already, I did the stairs with relative ease - my lunchtime runs in the Valley, doing similar stairs, had trained me well.

We were pretty close to the end, and I managed to burn some extra by finishing fast and strong. I like doing that. It makes me feel like it's a piece of cake, and the last 18km was de rigeur.

Post-run, I enjoyed a raspberry protein shake, and a nap. My knees and left hip feel pretty comfortable, though respectably tired. It feels like a job well-done, and we shall see what next week entails.

Speaking of my hip, I am debating between going to get it checked out, and leaving it be before the big race. This week will be the big decider.

Running 18k Solo

You would think I'd learn after one lesson and call to see where the running group is at, but as I may have mentioned, it takes a few times to get through to my cognitive processes.

But no - I got to the Running Room this morning and discovered that the half-marathon group was doing their 18km run out of St. Albert. Again, it was then too late to drive to St. Albert, so I said to heck with it, I'll do 18km on my own.

I stopped briefly at home to bolster my resources and check out a new route.. The last version involved road-side running, which I dislike for safety reasons. This new route was all side-walk friendly, and involved some paths that I'd traversed a few times. I explained my route to my boyfriend, and set out.

In the first loop through Lago Lindo, I already felt the need to use the bathroom, but shrugged it away until later thought. I had a pace of around 6:45min/km, which was alright. The breeze was cool, but the sun was hot. Thankfully, there was a 7-11 who gave me succor (and by succor, I mean air conditioning and the bathroom key).

Then I started through Castle Downs, ran by the dude with the gigantic Great Dane again, past the church, and down Castle Downs Road. As my boyfriend had worried, I was starting to get low on water, so by kilometer 11, I stopped at the nearby Subway (eat fresh!), and was able to get free cold water from their drinks fountain. It was around this time that I remembered GI Jane and the recitation, "A bird will drop dead from its tree, without feeling sorry for itself." Imperfectly remembered, probably, but the sentiment kept me going.

By about 10:30 a.m., it was getting quite warm. My left knee had ached on and off for a while, but I concentrated on exactly how my foot was falling. The 16th kilometer was on a bit of an uphill, but I powered through that, but right around 17.5km, my knee started trying to buckle every 200 meters. Well, that wasn't going to get my run finished, so I used a Granny Weatherwax tactic: "But her voice wasn't faint and she wasn't swaying, Nanny Ogg could see, because Granny Weatherwax's body was in the grip of Granny Weatherwax's mind." (Lords and Ladies, Terry Pratchett)

The saying goes that 90 per cent of running is mental, and this really proved it. My knee continued to come close to buckling, and every time it did, I kept thinking it as a strong joint, moving forward. It did work, but as I came close to the final turn, walking was very tempting. As I hit the 18.01km mark, I was very very happy to mark this run as 'complete'.

And next week, I will indeed be checking where the hell the running group will be!

My Week In Running

I discovered a lot of new things in running this past week:

1. BC has a lot of hills. Sweetie and I did our 15km long run on Saturday, as we were planning to drive home on Sunday. This began with a big downhill, which meant on the return, there would be a big uphill. However, it was a nice run, fully enjoyable time with Ragnar, and I was able to enjoy the beautiful near-countryside of BC. Weird thing seen: a couch in the ditch.
2. Podcasting: I've heard of podcasting, but never figured it out until I needed something, anything, to block out the Flames of War podcast Ragnar was listening to. So I hooked up to Geeks in Running Shoes, which is a couple of self-proclaimed geeks who are recording their continuing efforts in making running a norm in their lives. They have guests, they talk about their race results, and they're super-nice: one already responded to me on Twitter! They also led me to the Slow Runners' Club, which espouses a joy in running and racing that is based on having fun, not racing for time, personal bests, or a win. Also, running while listening to podcasts? Not awesome, because you may have to laugh too hard.
3. Upon returning to Edmonton, it was, as my sister had described it, as hot as the seventh level of Dante's Hell. Constantly 28-30C, and humid to boot! Fortunately, I had lived in Ottawa, so this humidity was a mosquito's bite compared to some I'd experienced, but it made me start running in the morning again, because running at noon was torturous.
4. Which I did, actually, because I hadn't woken up early enough Thursday morning (the invasive heat and resulting two-hour thunderstorm broke my sleep too much). In deference, I brought a bottle of water with me, and took more walk-breaks than usual. It was a light 5k, but ended up taking a bit longer than usual.
5. Speaking of torturous running and podcasting, one of the topics that Geeks in Running Shoes covered at one point was Ultra running. This was very interesting for me because my boss runs ultras, and Ragnar is getting into them. As a matter of fact, Ragnar is training to participate in the Canadian Death Race (my boss is also training for this, but I'm not his pit crew). Listening to GiRS's podcast, I got a sense of what Ragnar will need on his run in the Death Race: yes-or-no or other equally simple questions, like "Are you peeing? When did you last pee? Are you drinking water? Electrolytes?" Quadratic equations are right out at a time when someone is concentrating on one foot in front of the other.
6. Last but not least, I really hope the wildfires in northern Alberta die down fast because I want everyone to be safe, and I want the air in Edmonton to clear up - right now, it's a disturbing yellow-peach colour during the day, stings my eyes, and doesn't feel healthy in the lungs. I wanted to go rollerblading tonight, but maybe I'll wait for a clearer day.

And that is what I learned.

Addendum: Dear hip, shut up. Just because we're turning 30 tomorrow does not mean my warranty has run out. Stop whining. You just have two more half-marathons to do this season. Quiet.