sunday mornings + favorite running spots

Sunday mornings are the only times when I wonder how I'm going to give up California. It's the only time I ever ask myself the question that so many people ask me: "How are you going to give up all...this?" And on some Sundays, I just don't know.* 

There are, of course, Sunday mornings in Green Bay, but I'm not sure they'll be the same. My Sunday mornings here combine many of my favorite things: friends, running, fresh air, scenery, breakfast, and coffee (I know coffee is a part of breakfast, but I love it so much that it really deserves its own mention). There is no traffic on Sunday mornings, and I never struggle to find a parking spot.  

Really, it's the people who make my Sunday mornings. For nearly two years now, I've been waking up at 6 am on Sunday mornings to meet my running friends for a long run/walk, which we follow up with breakfast (one friend says, "We are a breakfast group with a running problem"). They are, as I call people who are not in academia, civilians, and they provide a much needed escape from grad school--and so much more. 

After a year of running with my first running buddy, Sam, she got pregnant, and I found myself in need of some new running buddies. At the time, I had the running bug pretty bad and I was signed up to run 3 half marathons in the next year. But, as much as I loved running, getting myself up and out the door for long run days was sometimes a challenge. And so, a different running friend introduced me to the Sunday morning running crew. 

When I first joined the group, I wasn't sure what to expect. Everyone knew each other really well, having run together for over ten years. They were more of a family and less a group of friends, but they welcomed me into it. They are so good to me, and I couldn't ask for better friends. I know a lot of people would balk at waking up so early in the morning, especially a weekend morning, to go running, but Sunday mornings are the best part of my week, and it's because of my friends. No matter how busy and stressed out I am, Sunday mornings are non-negotiable. They keep me sane, and I'm not sure how I would have managed the past couple of years without my running family. If I find a running group in Green Bay that's half as awesome as my running family here, I will be very, very lucky.

Aside from my friends of course, I'll miss my favorite running spots. In this respect, I am incredibly spoiled. There are miles and miles of running trails in Orange County, and I'm fortunate to live only a mile away from one of them. 

When I get to the trail, if I turn left, after a mile and a half, I'll end up at the Back Bay. It's one of my favorite places to run. 

I've run all the way around it, which is 10 miles.

I also live about a mile away from a wildlife preserve. There are trails inside of it, and the perimeter is about a 3 mile loop. I used to do a lot of trail running inside it, but then I saw a snake one day, so now I mainly stick to the outside loop. 

Crystal Cove State Park is also a favorite. We usually stick to the trails inside the park, but sometimes...

...we run up the Newport Coast hill. 

It's pretty brutal, but in a good way. Fortunately, we don't do it that often. I know I'm smiling in the picture below, but that's because we are about to take a walk break. 

As much as I'm going to miss running in Orange County, I'm kind of excited for winter running in Green Bay. And also a little scared, but more on that later. 

* It doesn't take long for me to stop romanticizing California. On any other day and time of the week, I get so frustrated with traffic, parking, and crazy drivers that all I can think is "Get me the eff out of Southern California."

OC Half Marathon

Admittedly, we runners are a strange crew. As if running 13.1 (or, for some people, 26.2) miles wasn't crazy enough, we also get up insanely early to do it. Voluntarily. And we pay money to do it. Fortunately, I am just half crazy and stop after 13.1 miles.

I started my day with a 3:15 am wake-up call. The race started at 6:15, but since it was point to point (meaning that it starts and ends at different places), we had to allot enough time to get to the finish (at the OC fairgrounds) and take the shuttles to the start (Fashion Island). The past two times I ran this race, I was spoiled--Drew dropped me off at the start and met me at the finish so I could sleep in (which means about 5 am).

Some friends in my running group (we run every Sunday at 7 am and then have breakfast) live near the finish (we had a potluck brunch after the race), so we met there and walked to the fairgrounds. The upside is that parking is free and you don't have to deal with the traffic. The downside, which I learned the hard way, is that you have to navigate the road closures because my friends live so close to the race course. Just when I was supposed to be walking through their door, I had to pull over and call because one of the main roads to their house was closed, and they navigated me to their place.  

We headed to the start, and it went off without a hitch. The start is so much fun. There's so much energy and excitement in the air, and you can just feel it. It's hard for me to explain--there's so much camaraderie and optimism, and it's great to be a part of it.   

This is my last race in California, and my goal was to just have fun and enjoy myself. It wasn't my intention to try to set a personal record (PR), so I took my time and took pictures along the course (I also developed a newfound respect for biathletes, as I discovered that it can be challenging to run, stop, and steady myself to take a picture).  

We made our way out of Fashion Island (fancy shopping mall, and not really an island) and headed toward the ocean (I hope you can see it in the background there). The view below is quite breathtaking and it's the one I see every time I go to the Newport Beach Public Library (it gets me every time I drive down the hill). I wish you could have been there with me to see it today!

We ran south on the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway). Normally it is jam packed with cars, so it was neat to see it full of runners instead! You can't really tell by the picture, but here we are at a slight downhill before a medium-sized hill, something I'd never notice in the car, but definitely detectable on foot! 

And then we ran through Corona del Mar. There were some people who came out to drink their morning coffee and cheer us on. I think someone was playing the theme to Rocky. 

I've seen this view lots of times, but I just found it to be more impressive today. 

The neighborhood we ran through was a pretty fancy one (well, we were by a yacht club, so it's not surprising) and some of the houses are pretty spectacular. 

Here we are, near the yacht club. 

We made our way back to the PCH and headed north. The halfway point was around here, and all I heard in my head was the Bon Jovi song, Livin' on a Prayer (...we're halfway there..take my hand and we'll make it I swear...livin' on a prayer). I think Balboa Island is somewhere over there:

Here we are at the Back Bay. We are about to run past those homes you see in the background.

The Back Bay is to the right, and when you look behind you, you can see the ocean. That's where we just were a few minutes ago! Crossing the PCH bridge!

And now, here we are running past the super fancy, multi-million dollar homes. You would think that with the views I just showed you above, the residents would be sitting outside, basking in the sun and enjoying the scenery, but every time I've run by (this was the 6th time or so), it is a ghost town .

The ocean is getting further away:

Almost done running past the fancy homes.

We ran around the Back Bay:

Below, we just turned right onto Irvine Avenue. At this point, we've run about 10 miles. The best part about the last 5K (aside from the fact that we have only 5K left) is the fan support. You can't tell, but there is a PARTY at the top of that hill.  

Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to officially run the Boston Marathon, once said "If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon." (There was a good article about this in the Washington Post a year ago.) Races are impressive, and it's not because of the runners. It's impressive because of the people who line up along the street to cheer for and support complete strangers. They hold up signs, they call out our names, and they give us snacks and water. It's amazing, and I'm sure every runner can talk about the importance of fan support. People cheering for people that they've never met and will never know. It's pretty cool. Is this what it's like to be a rock star? Well, it's the closest I'll ever come to knowing. 

The people lining up along the last 5K can be counted on to have the BEST signs. The one below says: You thought they said RUM, didn't you?

The one in the middle says: I'm sure this seemed like a good idea 4 months ago. 

I had to stop and have the guy holding this sign take my picture with it. 

At this point below, we were at mile 12. 

Two years ago, I continued straight ahead and ran a lonely and somewhat miserable 14.2 miles through the bowels of Orange County. The full marathon was an extremely physically and mentally challenging experience, and while I didn't swear off marathons after finishing it, I wasn't sure if I'd ever do one again. Instead, I stuck to half marathons and every time I finished one of those, I thought to myself "I'm so glad I saved myself the pain and agony by not doing the full."

But alas, how soon we forget these sorts of things. At this juncture, I was feeling quite good, and I actually thought to myself "hmmmm, maybe I could do another full marathon. It can't be that bad." (Is this what childbirth is like? It's so painful that you say you're never going to do it again, but then after a certain amount of time passes, you forget how bad it was and give it another go?) In case you're wondering, I wasn't contemplating doing another marathon at that exact moment in time. I'm not stupid, I definitely turned left. 

The last mile was a good one, if for no other reason than it was the last and it was mostly in the shade (the temperature was in the low 70s, but it felt like it was in the mid 80s). Here we are approaching the finish line:  

And my selfie after crossing the finish line.

And the post-race picture:

It was a great morning, and it was about to get better (I joined my friends for brunch!). I have run the OC Full Marathon, Long Beach Half, Surf City Half, and Southern California Half, but this race is my favorite. The scenery is phenomenal and the fan support is great. The race course bottlenecks around the halfway point when you go under the PCH, but other than that, it's not too crowded. I had so much fun! 

I really enjoy the half marathon. It is a really good, manageable distance for me--challenging enough, but it doesn't stress me out, physically or mentally. I know I'm going to finish, and I don't feel like crap after I do. Sure, I limp around and I need to change into flip flops ASAP, but I'm not incapacitated for the rest of the day. 

As I mentioned, this was my last race in California, so it was really bittersweet. But, I already know which race I'm running next: the Green Bay Half Marathon. 

OC Half Marathon

Today I ran the OC Half Marathon, setting a personal record of 2:29:17. I wanted to come in under 2:30, and I'm happy that I made it happen today.

A year ago, I ran the OC full marathon, and the 2nd half was miserable. This time, I ran the good part and stuck to the half. The weather was perfect; not cold and not at all hot. The fan support was excellent (best sign: Run like Ryan Gosling is at the finish line with a puppy), and the views were awesome. The race felt really good, and almost even easy. I took it easy for the first 10 miles, and then kicked it up a notch and pushed myself for the last 5K.  

Surf City Half Marathon

I have taken quite the hiatus here, and for that, I apologize.  I also promise to blog about more than just running.  

But in the meantime...let's talk about...running!

Since we last talked, I ran my 1000th mile since taking up the sport in September 2011.  And last weekend, I ran the Surf City Half Marathon in Huntington Beach.  Overall, it was a lackluster experience, but my running group made it a good day.  

The race was flat, which is good, but it was pretty boring.  We ran on the Pacific Coast Highway, save for a few miles through one of the residential neighborhoods.  I know the ocean was right next to me, but it was nowhere in sight.  I was good for the first 10 miles, but then my mind starts playing tricks on me, and no matter how hard I try to convince myself that I have only a 5K (3.1 miles) left to go, I can't forget that I've already run 10 miles.  I also got a foot cramp and side stitches around the 11th mile, which made it difficult to know whether or not I should kick it up a notch in the final 5K (as I'd planned) or go easy so as to not make things worse.  I used to think that race strategy was such a silly concept; when I'd read about runners talking about it in Runner's World, I used to think "Isn't the plan to just run as fast as possible and hope for the best?"  But now I realize that this is a real thing, and so my strategy in the last 5K was to go easy, take walk breaks, and then go all out when I reached the final mile (I figured that any ensuing pain would be bearable for just a mile).

And for the most part, this strategy worked.  I PRed again, finishing in 2:32 down from 2:35 in the Long Beach Half.  Again, my goal was to finish in under 2:30, but I was thwarted by my tiny bladder and the pit stop after only the 2nd mile.      

This was my third consecutive race in the Beach Cities Challenge (OC, Long Beach, Surf City), so I got a fancy, special medal.

Long Beach Half Marathon

Okay, I confess.  Here's the real reason why I'm updating my blog right now: I ran the Long Beach Half Marathon this morning and I'm recovering on the couch.  Normally, my Sunday would involve baking or sewing, but my legs are stiff and I need to stay off my feet.  My Sundays have almost always involved running for at least the past year, but rarely do I run 13.1 miles.  

My friend Andy has been running with a running group every Sunday for the past couple months or so.  She heard about it from her friend, and I heard about it from her, and I've been joining them for the past month.  We meet at a designated place that rotates around the area every Sunday at 7am.  It's early, but since it's long run day, it's nice to get it out of the way in the morning.  Sometimes it's hard to muster the motivation to run on long run days.  Anyway, the group is a lot of fun and the people are very nice.  Running is an individual sport, but at the same time, it's not.  Running with other people makes me feel like part of a community and it's a great motivator.  About half a dozen of us ran the half or full marathon today, and it was great to meet up with everyone before the race and hang out while we waited for race time.

I wanted to break 2 and a half hours today, but I had to revise my goal when it turned out to be warmer than I'd anticipated and when I got a side stitch around mile 9.  I finished in 2:35, which is still a personal record (PR).  Not bad, and I'll take it.  I just checked my stats, and I was pretty much in the middle of the pack among all racers, among just the women, and among my age group.  As someone who still gets self conscious about my pace (I think I'm slow), I was proud to see that I'm actually a middle of the pack runner.  

I love races- the energy, the excitement, the jitters.  Humanity is at its best at races.  Strangers cheer for strangers, strangers high five strangers, and strangers shout out your name in encouragement.  The best sign I saw said "I'm a stranger, but I'm so PROUD of you."  If I could, I would have given that guy a hug, but I was on the side of the road opposite him.  Sometimes it's nice to be reminded that we still rock even though we're a bit slow and have no chance of winning.  It's nice to be reminded that simply just running the race is an accomplishment and what's important.      

The race course was nice and scenic, and flat (which might be of more importance).  I tried my best to take in all the sights, but at around mile 8, I got kind of bored and then tired, and then I had to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other.  Of course, Drew got a photo of me approaching the finish line.     

And post race.

 

I don't know what this says about my adviser or her students, but many of us are distance runners.  I believe that an overwhelming majority of her students have completed marathons, half marathons, or triathlons (perhaps not under her tenure, but at least at some point in their life).  Today, three of us ran the half marathon and one ran the full.  (And of course, I've already emailed her this photo.  She is beyond proud of us and does not hesitate to show her support, which is one of many reasons we love her.)

After completely a half and full marathon in the past year, I wasn't sure what to expect today.  It wasn't nearly as easy as the first half of the OC Marathon, but that makes sense, as I was overtrained for a half and trained for the full.  Today's race was tough; I got bored around mile 8, and the last 3.1 miles were quite a challenge.  In contrast to the past two races, for this one, I was better trained- physically and mentally.  When I ran the half last January, I remember various body parts beginning to hurt around mile 8, and I could barely walk after the race.  When I ran the full, the race was mentally challenging, and the last 10 miles were physically challenging.  This time, even though I'm stiff and a bit sore, I don't feel as bad as I'd felt after the half.  And even though it got tough at the end, I didn't get frustrated or beat down, and I knew I'd finish.  Next up is the Surf City Half in February, and already, I can't wait.   

a year of running

I'm currently training for the Long Beach Half Marathon, which is only 4 Sundays away, on October 7th.  As I train for this race, I can't help but reflect on running and training for my first half and my first full.  Not only that, but this Thursday is my one year running anniversary, so I've been extra-reflective lately.  

After running a couple miles here and there for a few years, with a couple 5Ks sprinkled in, I picked up running a year ago last August.  I had always wanted to be a runner, but I lacked the motivation to become one.  After five years of graduate school and searching for ways to cope with the stress and anxiety (yoga has been invaluable, but I needed something more strenuous), I turned to running.  To motivate myself, I signed up for a 5K, a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving.  I began running with my friend Sam, and while training for the 5K, decided to up the ante and join her for the Southern California Half Marathon, which was in January.  I had never run farther than about 4 miles, and running 13.1 was unimaginable.  And I really didn't have a "running" background.  Even though I was physically active in high school, I was a diver, which didn't necessitate endurance or stamina.  And despite continuing to exercise in college and in graduate school, running didn't become a habit.  

Training for my first half marathon was intimidating, but exciting.  I can't describe how, after every long run, it felt so cool to think about how I'd run farther than I've ever run in my life.  The first time I ran 5 miles was the day before I defended my dissertation prospectus.  After telling my adviser, I'll never forget that she asked "Don't you feel mighty"?  I did indeed, and not just because I became ABD (all but dissertation).  I can't remember the first time I ran 6 miles, but I do remember the first time I ran 7.  Sam and I were on a running/walking/biking path on the way to the Back Bay.  We passed the sign announcing we were now in Newport Beach, and even though it was only 2 miles from home, we relished the feeling of running to another city.  I wore a Camelback for that run (I was testing out hydration packs and borrowed Sam's), and it rained off and on.  We ran nearly the entire side of the Back Bay, and at the end of 7 miles, Drew came to pick us up.  

When we ran 8 miles, we ran to the beach.  We took a hilly route, which wasn't the best idea, but we were rewarded with a wonderful beach view when we finished.  I ran 9 miles and 10 miles at Drew's mom and dad's in southwestern Virginia.  It was grueling and lonely.  The hills were nothing like the ones I was used to, and I didn't have Sam to talk to.  Since there had been bear sightings in the area, Drew followed me in the car, stopping every mile or so and waiting for me to catch up.  

When Sam and I ran the half marathon, after the 10 mile mark, every passing mile didn't go unnoticed, as we pointed out that it was the farthest I'd ever run (she ran this particular half marathon two years prior).  At the start of the half, I told her that I was thinking about finding a full marathon around the same time as the Big Sur Marathon (which she would be running) so that we could continue training together.  The marathon had always been a far fetched goal, and I felt that this would be a good time to do it, what with no kids and a flexible schedule.  By the end of our race, even though my feet hurt and I could not imagine running another 13.1 miles,  I decided to sign up for the OC Marathon.          

Marathon training is a blur, but we noted each time we ran farther than we'd ever run.  Some days were good running days, and some days were a challenge.  Regardless, every one was a tremendous accomplishment.  Our perspective shifted too; 5 mile runs became short runs, 10 miles were easy runs, and even a half marathon was no longer intimidating.  

After the OC Marathon, I wasn't sure if I'd ever run a full marathon again.  I'm still not sure.  But 2 days after the OC, I was already registered for the Long Beach Half and the Surf City Half (in February).  With a 5:46 marathon time, I decided that working on a half marathon PR (personal record) was a manageable and attainable goal (I'm shooting for a sub 2:30 time).  Training for a marathon is time consuming, and I knew I wouldn't be able to dedicate the time to bettering my marathon time.

This time around, training for the half is still rewarding, even though I don't finish a long run by noting that it was the farthest distance I've ever run.  Instead, I think about how much easier training is this time and how much faster I can run.  A year ago when I began running, it took me about 14 minutes to run/walk a mile.  Now I run between a 10:30 to 11 minute mile, and a 12 minute mile on long run days.  

More importantly, I've developed a love of running.  I never thought I'd say that.  Running has become a habit, and I miss it when I go longer than a week without doing it.  I get antsy.  I can't sit still.  I feel anxious, and I want to feel the wind on my face and the burn in my legs.  And having a love for running is a lot more important than any PR.           

Post 26.2

It didn't take too long to get over the trauma of running 26.2 miles on Sunday.  Even before I regained full control of my legs, I registered for the Long Beach Half Marathon (this October) and the Surf City Half Marathon (February 2013).  When I learned that I would receive a special medal and complete the Beach Cities Challenge if I run some combination of the OC, LB, and Surf City full and half marathons consecutively, I just couldn't resist. 

26.2

I survived.  It wasn't pretty, but I ran 26.2 miles and finished the OC Marathon yesterday.  I wasn't at all nervous headed into the race.  If anything, during the week before, I was experiencing feelings of dread mixed with excitement.    

During the week before the race, I thought a lot about running, my goals, and my accomplishments.  In just 8 months, I went from being a non-runner (running only a couple miles here and there) to being a runner.  I ran a 5K in November, and a half marathon in January.  And here I was about to run my first marathon, something that had always been a pipe dream.       

I had always wanted to be a runner, but could never find the motivation to stick with it.  Running a half marathon and eventually committing to a marathon definitely motivated me, and running with Sam was probably the best motivator.  I've found many benefits to running, aside from a leaner body and more muscles.  It has been the best stress reliever (yoga has been great too, and I still do it about once a week), but running has helped me manage the stresses of graduate school.

I also found many parallels between marathons and dissertations.  Both are long and challenging, and few people attempt either one.  Both require a lot of self motivation.  There are good days and there are bad.  On some days, it's a breeze and on other days, the tasks seems impossible.  Both require a lot of hard work, and consistency is key.  And few people see that hard work, they see only you at the finish line or at graduation.  Nobody sees you slogging away in your office writing, and nobody sees you slogging through a 20 mile run.  You have to pace yourself.  Go out too fast on a long run, and you'll struggle to finish.  I imagine the same holds true for the dissertation.  A game plan is necessary and tasks must be broken up into small, manageable goals.  I'm sure there are many other parallels, but these are the ones I thought of during my marathon training.  

And so this is why I wasn't nervous heading into the race.  I felt that I'd accomplished all I'd wanted to accomplish already.  I became a runner.  I ran a 5K and then a half marathon.  I fell in love with running, and I felt good because of it.  It helped me not hate grad school, and it made me happy.  I'd done everything I'd wanted to do, save for completing the full marathon.           

This is not to say that the marathon was a cake walk.  It wasn't.  I'm smiling in the pictures and I finished, but a lot happened over the course of 5 hours and 46 minutes.  The race started 15 minutes late and I was at the back of the pack.  I had to stop off at a porta potty in the first mile, which set me even further back.  I wasn't trying to win, but being at the back is lonely, as I would find out much later.  

The half marathon was supposed to start 45 minutes later, but with our time delay, we got only a 30 minute head start.  Around mile 3, I started getting passed by half marathoners.  My ego can handle getting passed, but I was running about 12 minute miles and was getting passed by people running about twice as fast.  As more and more half marathoners caught up, I felt like I was in the middle of a stampede.  Eventually though, their pace slowed and even though I kept getting passed, I estimate their pace was about a 10 minute mile.  Running with the half marathoners became enjoyable and the energy was contagious.  There were quite a few spectators, and it was nice running through Corona del Mar, Newport Beach, and the Back Bay.  Just before mile 12, I saw my friends out cheering for me.  It was exciting.  I felt really good and strong until mile 12, when the half marathoners peeled off and headed to the fairgrounds to finish.

My morale did a 180 at the halfway point.  I was no longer motivated by the half marathoners, and now I could see how few us marathoners were at the back of the pack.  Despite our slow pace, Sam and I were well trained, well, at least well trained enough to run up 21 miles (our longest training run).  I was one of the few people still running at this point.  I didn't want to give myself permission to walk until at least mile 20 (I was afraid it would make finishing even more painful, not to mention delay finishing), but I found it difficult to maintain my motivation when most of the people around me were walking.

The course is described as scenic, but this is not true.  The first half is scenic, the rest is terrible.  We ran through business areas and a deserted high school.  As someone who runs for the scenery, these were not good places to hit The Wall.  I began to feel demoralized during mile 14, but it wasn't until mile 16 when I would let myself admit it.  I felt like crying.  It was very lonely at the back of the pack.  I felt abandoned.  There were few spectators, and even the scheduled entertainment had abandoned us.  A police officer tried to keep up our spirits at the deserted high school, and I'm extremely grateful for that.  Sam (who ran the Big Sur marathon last weekend) warned me that it would get difficult around this time, and she was right.  The only things that kept me going at this point was her assurance that it would get better at mile 20, and that Drew and my friend Andy were waiting for me at mile 20.  Drew would go on to meet us at the finish line, but Andy was going to run the rest of the race with me.  

At mile 19, I got a supportive text from Sam.  I ran through South Coast Plaza, which was depressing.  I began to cry.  It sucked, it was frustrating, I was getting tired, and my feet hurt.  But I knew that things would turn around at mile 20, so I kept going.  Drew texted me to tell me they were at the corner of Harbor and Segerstrom, and I knew the only way to see them was to keep running.  

When I saw Drew and Andy, I immediately burst into tears and I told them it sucked.  Even though I was having a terrible time, the thought that I wouldn't finish never crossed my mind.  No matter how discouraged I got, I knew I was going to finish.  Andy had run a few marathons before, and I was so glad she was going to run the rest of this one with me.  She carried my water pack and supported not just me, but also the other runners whose spirits were surely flagging.  She thanked people for coming out to support us, which I could not find the strength to do.  We walked a few times during miles 21 and 22, but we mostly ran.  Surprisingly, it hurt more to walk and slowing down made it nearly impossible to start running again.  Plus, I wanted to finish as soon as possible, and I knew walking would only prolong the torture.  

I began to feel better at mile 23, mostly because I could wrap my head around running just 3 more miles.  That feeling got even better at miles 24 and 25.  After running what felt like really, really long miles, the last mile felt pretty short.  At mile 26, Andy peeled off to join the spectators at the finish line.  I didn't know how I would feel at this point, but I felt pretty numb.  There were a lot of people watching, so I didn't want to cry.  In previous races, I've always felt this surge of energy as I run to the finish line, but not this time.  I kept a consistent pace and crossed the finish line.  It was anti-climactic, but I was so relieved and happy to finish.  And I couldn't wait to get my race medal.  I was proud of myself for taking the ultimate running challenge and completing it.  Here I am crossing the finish line:

 

After getting water and food, I sat down to stretch and debrief Drew and Andy on the race.  Despite feeling terrible during miles 14-20, I was in really good spirits after the race.  Here I am, clearly having forgotten the trauma in the middle of the race:

After resting a bit, we headed out.  But not before a picture in front of the finish line:

I was sore after the race, but not as sore as I'd anticipated.  Drew met me at the finish line with flip flops, which made all the difference.  Surprisingly, I didn't have trouble walking, and I was even able to walk (slowly) to the car, which was parked in a nearby neighborhood about a half mile from the fairgrounds.  If anything, the marathon may have been more of a mental challenge than a physical one.

Chances are, I will run another marathon someday.  It really depends upon the marathon; if it's a big marathon with lots of cool scenery, then I'd definitely consider it.  Drew said the OC Marathon must not have been too traumatic, seeing as how the only things I complained about were the lack of scenery in the second half and dodging cyclists between miles 20 and 22.  If anything, I will continue running half marathons.  It's still a respectable distance, but not as strenuous.  Plus, training for a half marathon doesn't require as much time and commitment as marathon training.  

Up next?  The Surf City Half Marathon in Huntington Beach next February.  I can't wait.     

anatomy of a long run

There is a system to training for a marathon, or really any long distance race. I don't have a firm grasp on the system, but from what I've gathered so far, it consists of mixing up shorter runs where you work on speed with long slow runs where you work on distance, stamina, and getting used to being on your feet for extended periods of time. The short days have fancy names like tempo runs or strides. The long run day is known as LSD, or long, slow, day.

My training partner and friend, Sam, and I started out with running 4 days a week. After a month of that, and dealing with shin splints for me and knee pain for her, we dropped down to running 3 days a week. The Big Sur (for Sam) and the OC (for me) marathons will be our first, and we're just focused on staying healthy and getting to the starting line.

Last week, for our LSD, we ran 19 miles. It took us 4 hours. That's a long time on our feet and a lot of pounding on our body. I'm still recovering. It's also a lot of time to spend with one another. And I noticed that we have a pattern when it comes to LSDs. On our "shorter" run days (runs anywhere from 6-10 miles), we talk pretty much the whole time. We catch up on our lives, and talk about school and politics and the news, and she tells me stories about her 10 month old daughter. But on long run days, there comes a point when we can no longer muster up the energy to talk. The last few miles are run in a comfortable silence.

Surprisingly, I did not dread the 19 mile run the way I dreaded the 16 mile run. The first half was fairly easy, and we marveled at how running this distance would have been unimaginable when we first began running together. We talked about how our perspective on distance running has shifted. Now a 3 or 4 mile run is short, and a 7 or 8 mile run is easy. Even a half marathon, or 13.1 miles, a distance that I ran for the first time only a couple short months ago is manageable. When we reached the 13 mile point in our 19 mile run, we commented on how we still felt good at this distance and how this was in contrast to how we felt when we tackled the half at the beginning of January. After 14 miles, things got a bit challenging. We weren't talking as much, and my feet were hurting. After 16 miles, I was really surprised at how good I still felt, but after 17 miles, I was getting tired and couldn't wait to finish.

I don't know what it's like for anyone else, but there comes a point in a run where if I stop, it becomes very difficult to start again. It's counterintuitive, but this is what it's like for me and Sam. This point of no return increases with the distance of our run. When we were doing 7 mile runs, it happened at about the 5th mile, for example. Whenever I tell people about how I ran a half marathon, some asked if I ran the entire distance. And the truth is that I did and I try to explain that once I start running, it's easier to just keep going.

After about 15 miles into our 19 mile run, I was tired, sore, and wanted to stop. But I knew this was the point of no return and that if I paused to walk for even a moment, it would make those last 4 miles much worse. So we carried on, and trotted home. I don't really remember how I felt when we finished, but I do know that I just wanted to sit down and stretch. It felt really, really good.

an update

Drew and I made a quick trip to Minnesota at the end of February for my grandma's 90th birthday. My dad informed me that he misses reading my blog. I am flattered, but also a bit confused. I mean, I talk to my parents at least once every other week, and I don't blog about anything that they don't know about anyway. Oh well. Parents are peculiar like that. So, this one's for you, Dad (and you too Kathleen, Drew's mom).

So, as I said, we were in Minnesota. There was a bit of snow (woo-hoo!) and temperatures were in about the mid 20s. It was glorious, just the thing I needed. We arrived on a Friday and trekked over to the Mall of America, where we ate cheese curds and I made my usual MN souvenirs purchases. That night we went to the Old Log Theatre, where we ate dinner and saw a play. The next day, we headed out to my grandma and grandpa's, which is in rural Minnesota, about 2 hours west of the Twin Cities. There was a lovely birthday party and it was great to see everyone.

Another exciting thing to happen recently is that my parents gave me a Nook for Christmas. This is newsworthy because I'm not really tech savvy. I am always the last of my friends to get anything technologically innovative. I was the last to get a cell phone, a desktop computer, and a laptop. My cell phone is not fancy; it has a qwerty keyboard and takes pictures, but it's pretty much just a phone. But now because of my parents, I am among the first of my friends to have an e-reader. And I love it. I didn't fully appreciate it until the trip to Minnesota because it was great to take a trip and not have to lug around 2 or 3 books (I like to have options when I travel). It's small, compact, and light. I can barely remember what life was like before it (okay, now I'm being dramatic, but you know what I mean).

My life has been consumed with school and running. I've remained injury free (knock on wood). I struggled with shin splints, but it appears that taking a week off to rest while in Minnesota and running 3 times a week instead of 4 has helped alleviate those. We are building mileage and so far have worked our way up to 16 mile runs. Our perspective has changed dramatically; it used to be that 5 or 6 mile runs seemed far, and now those are easy, short runs. On a good day, even a 10 mile run is easy. Even though running has gotten easier, the first 3 miles or so are still hard for me. The first mile is pretty easy, but sometimes during the 2nd and 3rd miles I feel like I've never run before. I continue to enjoy running and for the most part, it is something that I look forward to doing and it's become a good habit.

a marathon and chocolate cake

Where did January go? I ran a half marathon and we started up the winter quarter. I also decided to run the Orange County Marathon, which is on May 6th. This should come as no surprise. Back in September when I was training for the Turkey Trot, a 5K, I began running with my friend Sam. She was planning to run the Southern California Half Marathon, so I decided to do it too. She has also been planning to run the Big Sur Marathon at the end of April, so I decided to find one to run around the same time. I've continued to run with her and train for the OC Marathon, which is a week after Big Sur.

It was also Drew's birthday in January, and I made him a German Chocolate Cake with a Coconut-Pecan Frosting.

It was pretty epic. To celebrate, we went to see the 39 Steps, a play adapted from an Alfred Hitchcock film.

this just in

My official half marathon time was 2 hours, 40 minutes and 49 seconds (a 12:17 pace for those of you keeping track). I have 2 questions: 1) How many half marathons must I run before I can call myself a half marathoner? and 2) How many half marathons must I run before I can put a 13.1 sticker on my car?

13.1

Today my friend Sam and I ran the Southern California Half Marathon, 13.1 miles. We finished in 2 hours and 43 minutes. The first 13 miles were a breeze, but that last tenth was tricky. Har har.

We had planned to walk a minute after every mile, as we had done in our training runs. But as we approached the starting line prior to the race, Sam suggested we take fewer walk breaks and I was game to try. We ended up running nearly the entire way, stopping only for water and to eat our gel packs. I had heard that once you run a certain distance, if you stop, it becomes very difficult to start up again. This is true, and perhaps the only reason we ran all 13.1 miles.

Miles 1 through 5 were quite easy, but miles 6 through 8 were more difficult. Even though I knew the entire time that we had 13 miles to cover, this fact didn't really set in until about the 6th mile. Mile 9 was more manageable, if only because it's easier to wrap your head around having less than 5 miles left to run. At mile 10, Sam and I psyched ourselves up by pointing out we had only 3.1 miles left, or a 5K. When you train for a half marathon (and anything longer I'm sure), running 3 miles is a piece of cake. Except when you've already run 10 miles.

At mile 11, Sam pointed out that this was the farthest I'd ever run which was an exciting distraction to think about (our longest training run was 10 miles). Mile 12 was exciting mainly because it meant the finish line was so close and we were almost done. We passed the 13th mile marker, and adrenaline kicked in as we sprinted the last tenth to the finish line (or at least that's how it felt).

Crossing the finish line and meeting Drew was great. The race was hard, but it was fun and I really would do it again. For me, it was not as mentally difficult as I thought it could be. I've heard that it's not uncommon for runners to hit a wall in mile 9 of a half marathon (or mile 20 or so in a marathon) when it becomes very, very difficult to continue. Fortunately, we didn't experience any mental challenges. As far as physically difficult, it's about what I'd anticipated. I knew it would hurt, but I wasn't sure how much. I was surprised that I didn't feel tired during the race, or out of breath. There was no huffing and puffing; Sam and I easily talked throughout the race. However, even though we both commented that our lungs felt strong and that we had good stamina, around mile 8 or 9, various body parts started to get tired and ache. After we crossed the finish line, I could barely walk.

All in all, it was a great experience. Most of the volunteers were students from an area high school, and their enthusiasm was contagious. Running can be a solitary sport, but it's days like this when I'm reminded that it doesn't have to be. I'm fortunate to have a running buddy and it's a major reason why I even challenged myself to a half marathon. But I'm certainly glad I did!

turkey trot!

Drew and I headed down to Oceanside for Thanksgiving where we indulged in running and eating way too much stuffing. Or maybe it was me, not Drew, who ate too much stuffing.

This is my 6th Thanksgiving, and I recently realized that I probably don't have many more to celebrate in Oceanside. I will eventually graduate and move out of Southern California. Hopefully. But I will no doubt miss spending Thanksgiving with the Oceanside family. It's always a riot. It's loud and everyone is talking, sometimes above one another. The only time people aren't talking is about the first 10 seconds after we've served our food and start eating. It's a lot of fun. Meals are always served family style, and sometimes there are so many people that the dinner table extends into the entryway (like it did for my first Thanksgiving there). Instead of passing around dishes of food, you pass around your plate.

Our Thanksgiving began with the Turkey Trot. When I began running a little over 2 months ago, I was run/walking miles at a 15 minute pace. My only goal was to run the entire Turkey Trot, no matter how slow. Drew and I ran the entire 3.1 miles together, separating only to dodge walkers. The race was very flat and went pretty well. The last stretch was along the ocean, and people came out of their beach houses to cheer us on. There was a girl playing her violin and a group of guys blasting music. My cousin Mike was there to greet us at the finish line.

Near the finish line, Drew graciously slowed down to take my picture crossing the finish line.
My official time was 31:15, or about a 10 minute mile. Drew finished one second later. Here is the 'after' picture:

The rest of the day was dedicated to relaxing, football, wii, and pecan pie.

october

It's not October anymore, but it was a busy month that deserves a recap. For starters, I finally left prospectus purgatory. Yes, it's true, I finally got to defend my prospectus and begin dissertation research. The defense wasn't as bad as I'd anticipated and certainly not as dreadful as I thought it would be.

I also signed up for a half marathon. I forked over $60, so there is no turning back now. Sam and I did a 5 mile run a week ago and a 6 mile run last Sunday, which is the longest that I've ever run in my life. Next Sunday, we are running 7 miles, which is a bit difficult to wrap my head around, but I'm sure we will survive.

Last weekend, we went to a fancy running store, which proved to be a dangerous place to be if you've just started running and still think it's fun. Not only did I become a VIP member of said running store, but I bought a hydration pack, some energy gels, and socks. I confess that these socks were $18 for a 3 pack. On sale. But they're supposed to prevent blisters, so how could I resist?

a half marathon

This is the story about how I agreed to run a half marathon in January. It started about a week ago. As you may recall, I'm running a 5K on Thanksgiving Day, a race appropriately called the Turkey Trot. My friend Sam and I run a couple times a week, and we ran our first 4 miler a week and a half ago. And something magical happened. It actually felt pretty good. I didn't feel like I was going to die, which is something I usually feel at some point during the first mile.

So here's what happens when you run 4 miles and feel exhilarated: you agree to run a half marathon. I knew Sam was planning to run a half in January, but I hadn't given much thought to doing it myself until recently. Here was my line of thought: we're training buddies, so if she's going to train for a half and we continue to run together, well then, shouldn't I also do the half? You might be thinking: If Sam jumps off a cliff, will I blindly follow? The answer is of course not, but I should mention right now that she's already registered for the Big Sur Marathon, which is sometime at the end of April or early May. I'm not even going to think about what this could mean for me.

And so I have verbally committed to running the half marathon in January. I even announced it on facebook. But I haven't ponied up the $50 for the registration fee. Other magical things have happened from running. For starters, seemingly overnight, we shaved a minute off our mile time. Instead of 13 minutes miles, we're now running 12 minute miles. How did that happen? I have no idea, but I'll take it.

3 miles

This is my 5th week of running. I've worked my way up to 3 mile runs, soon to be 4 (this Sunday). Running is hard, but I'm sticking with it. At some point, I know it will get easier and that I'll get better at it. Even though I huff and puff my way through 3 miles, I love the way I feel after a run. I feel like I breathe better. It's nice feeling like I accomplished something. I like the thought of knowing that I did something I didn't think I could do. I never thought of myself as a runner, so running even 3 miles feels like a triumph.

on running

As you may recall, I am in the throes of training for the Turkey Trot, a 5K on Thanksgiving Day. I am nearing the end of the 3rd week of training. Last Sunday, I ran 3 miles, which was my first 3 miler in a really, really long time, maybe even years. It went well, and I didn't feel like I was going to die. I have also started running with a friend, something I've never done before. We won't be able to run together all the time, but for now, it looks like we'll have a standing Sunday morning running date.

I have a few reasons for taking up running. For one thing, I'd like to lose some weight. During the time I've been in grad school, I've gained and lost the same 5-7 pounds. The good thing is that I lose those same 5-7 pounds. The alternative is that they just accumulate. But I'm tired of being so inconsistent with my workout habits, and I'm confident running will get me on track. Having a clear goal (the Turkey Trot) certainly helps, but so does the structure of a training program. I know when I'm going to run, how often, and for how many miles. My Type A personality really likes this structure.

I flirted with running before I came to grad school, and I really enjoyed it. I ran a couple 5Ks, and I considered training for a 10K. But then I moved to CA and never really hopped back on the treadmill, so to speak. I ran here and there, but never as consistently as I did prior to grad school.

I've also been motivated to take up running because I'm hoping that it will help me cope with grad school. This past year has been incredibly difficult and stressful. These things will always be there, but I'm looking for ways to deal with them. Yoga has certainly been a life saver, but it alone is not the cure-all pill. Already, I can tell that running is helping- it helps me cope with my stress and frustration, and it clears my mind.

turkey trot

After years of working out off and on (fortunately more "ons" than "offs"), I've decided that this is just the thing to get me motivated and moving: the Turkey Trot. It's a 5K on Thanksgiving Day. Drew and I have just registered, and I've roped at least one family member into joining us.

I ran a couple 5Ks in Minnesota, but none since moving to California. I enjoy running (I really mean jogging) and I do it here and there, but I haven't run consistently since the summer of 2006 in Minnesota. I check out issues of Runner's World from the public library in the hopes that I'll be motivated to run. Sometimes it works, but more often it does not.

So now I have a clear goal, but perhaps more importantly, I've forked over $30 for a registration fee. I have a training program and I started it yesterday. Already, it feels good. I harbor no grand expectations for race day. My only goal is the same one I've had for the previous 5Ks: jog the entire way, no matter how slow.