A Very Miami PR: Race Recap

A couple of weekends back I went to Miami with my friend Jen to root her on as she conquered the Miami Marathon. I did the Miami Half Marathon as part of my Boston training...but was also secretly trying to PR!

As faithful followers of MeriG will well-remember, Miami is where I #actually ran my first marathon. Rooted on by co-#1 fan Betsy, I conquered that race and was able to complete something that was an 18 month journey in the making.

Officially a marathoner!

I had always wanted to come back and do the half since -- quite frankly -- the first 13 miles of this race are far more exciting than the back half. The full has far fewer participants, and the course (which I'll describe in a moment) definitely peaks in the beginning leaving you a bit-lackluster when you need the motivation most.

What was great about going back to Miami this time was that I got to have the experience with Jen. I've written about "Roomie" Jen before. We were Freshman year roommates at Brandeis many moons ago and have been close friends ever since. Jen introduced me to health and fitness in many ways, and living with her was something that I will cherish forever. Today she is a doctor with a hubby and three kids, and our lives pretty much couldn't be more different. But our history and our mutual love of running keeps us connected. It's pretty beautiful, actually.

Jen's parents live in Miami, so I tagged onto their family vacation for this little race.

After arriving Friday night, Saturday was spent in race prep mode. Jen and I did a little shake-out run in the morning to get the muscles moving and then went to a yoga class at a random studio in her parent's neighborhood. I don't want to talk crap about the class....but actually I do. It was pretty bad. The teacher just obviously was not properly trained, and rather than a nice flow class (as advertised) he instead tried to have us hold awkward, random, and difficult poses without really leading up to them in any way. Not only was it not relaxing, it actually felt kind of downright dangerous. So Jen and I kind of stretched on our own to not risk injury and that was that. Afterwards, we headed to the expo to get our bibs.

Me and the Roomie. She's tall.

I love how you can personalize your bibs for this race!

After dinner with her family, we were off to bed as early as we could for our 3:30 am wake-up call. Oh, did I forget to mention that the race starts at 6:15 am? Yup. Miami gets hot, it turns out. So you want to start early. On this particularly day, however, we totally lucked out. The weather for the run was low 50s, sunny, and zero humidity. Pretty rare and pretty freaking amazing.

Although I tried to be cool about it, I had been craving a Miami PR. I've been doing a lot of strength and speed training, and I was ready to roll. However, once never knows what the race gods throw at you. So seeing that weather forecast made me nervous. Because with the combination of the stellar weather and the fact that Miami is a very flat course...I now knew that I had all the tools to make me capable of PR. If my legs (and tummy) would hold out...

We arrived at the start about 20 minutes before the gun went off. It was pretty cool. And by that I mean it was cold out but I was pretending to be warm because I am a NEW ENGLANDER AND I AM IN MIAMI. But for reals it was cold.

And then, we were off! I wished Jen well and then we parted ways so she could be Speedy Gonzalez for 26.2 and I could be...Speedy MeriG for 13.1.

Even though you have to wake up at an ungodly hour, there are benefits. The key benefit being sunrise over the long bridge to Miami Beach. I tried to snap some moving pics, but these truly don't do justice to the beauty of these miles.

Miles 3 through 10 are basically around Miami Beach. Very cool. And then you run back over bridges to Miami to finish near the starting line. The full marathon loops down south for several miles before coming back along the coast and back and forth over some causeways before finishing in the same spot.

I felt great for the first 10 miles and was totally on pace not only for a PR...but for a big PR. I was fighting against a 1:55:56 and I was pacing -- according to the math racing through my head -- to something like a 1:53 or 1:54. Nutty.

At mile 11 I felt a twinge in my knee. Ow.

And then my knee kind of seized up. Oyyyy.

But by this point I knew that even if I ran "just" 9ish minute miles I could still PR. I stopped for a few seconds and stretched, and then I said to myself, "girl. Do this. Do this now." And I was off.

My gait looked something like this:

And I wasn't sure I was going to make it without walking the last mile. But I focused on my breath, on my mantra (an uninspiring "You will be so pissed if you don't do this." Yep. That was my mantra), and on putting one foot in front of the other.

And then I saw the finish. And I looked at my watch. And I saw the finish. And I looked at my watch. And by golly...I was going to PR. I ran under the Finish Banner like this:

And my time was 1:54:40 -- a solid PR and with a busted knee! I was so, so happy and proud of myself for this accomplishment.

I recovered in the finish area and posted on the social medias and called my parents to brag (because  -- let's be real -- they would have thought I was pretty amazing if I had just stayed home and eaten a bagel). And then I was able to see Jen come in at an amazing 3:50 for her marathon. Here she is lookin' like, "hey! no big deal! 'bout to finish me a marathon!"

Before I leave you, I have a closing thought: Reader, please keep in mind that my first half marathon in Brooklyn in 2008 was a 2:22 finish. That's slightly under an 11-minute mile.

Over the course of seven years I have trained and tried and educated myself and really worked at this. And it's that effort that has brought me to 1:54:40, which is an 8:45 minute per mile average pace.

If that's not a gratifying stat? I don't know what is. 

Teaser for my next post: New things I'm trying. Hot yoga in Miami...and FlyWheel in NY. More to come!

Race Recap Part 2: The 2014 Boston Marathon

We left off after my amazing Sunday with DFMC.  I slept soundly, feeling positive energy from my friends and family wishing me well through texts and online messages. The weather forecast was looking a bit warm, but good (a departure from rain predicted earlier in the week!)

I woke up Monday morning, April 21, 2014 bright and early. My gracious host Steve drove me to the Boston Common where buses were lined up by the dozens to load sleepy, nervous runners and be replaced by dozens more empty buses. 

We got on the Mass Pike and drove west. For a while. 

We're going to run back. Whoa.

Once I arrived in Hopkington, MA I didn't go with the masses to the runners' village. Instead my friend Abi and I walked 10 minutes towards the starting line to the Dana-Farber meeting area at a nearby church. 

Inside was a veritable marathon runner's heaven.

There were medical tables with band-aids, vaseline, IB profin, and sunscreen. There was an "arts and crafts" tent outside so you could decorate your race shirt. In the main area, runners buzzed around chatting nervously, taking photos, and drawing temporary tattoos on eachothers' arms. There were quiet rooms if you wanted to relish in silence. There was a TV room if you wanted to watch the pre-race coverage. A fuel table had bagels, donuts, pretzels, candy, water and Gatorade. Bathrooms and port-o-potties abounded. And amazing volunteers staffed it all.

I had been a bit concerned originally because my bus arrived around 8 and I didn't start until 10:30. But once I saw the oasis of amazingness at that church? All my fears completely vanished.

Me and Cassie

Abi and Me

The 25th Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team!

Surrounded by my New York DFMC friends and the amazing positive energy of my teammates, the hours flew by.  And suddenly, it was time for Wave 3 to head to the start.

The 700 Dana-Farber team members were nearly all together in the same starting corral, adding to the excitement. As we marched towards the starting line, the amazing residents of Hopkington and race volunteers cheered D-F as if we were already heroes. It was basically the best parade ever. And we hadn't. Even. Started.

And then...without much fanfare...we were off.

So how was the race? Everyone asks me. Well, to put it simply, it may have been the best 4 hours, 16 minutes, and 53 seconds of my life.

The course. The course is everything a runner who dreams of Boston dreams it will be. It's historic. The bars your read about are out in full force. The terrain is exactly as described, where you're downhill at the beginning and the suddenly after the halfway point...you're not. The Wellesley girls. The BC kids. Cleveland Circle. Kenmore Square. 

Heartbreak Hill. Oh, yes. The hill on it's own is actually not "that" bad (compared to, say, Harlem Hill in Central Park). But that bugger comes after the three prior Newton Hills torture you for miles leading up to it. At mile 20. It is worthy of it's name.

The course is very tough, especially in the bright, sunny day we experience in April. But the challenge is part of its history and its mystique. It's all there and it lives up to the legend. Just has it has done for 117 years before. 

And yet, thumbs up!

The crowds. Energy like I've never felt in my life. And probably will never feel again. Truly, for 26.2 miles -- without hardly a break at any point -- I felt that city completely focused towards us. Towards me. I high-fived dozens of kids with hands outstretched. I took fruit from strangers (only acceptable during a marathon). I smiled at the hundreds of thousands of people who were smiling. Right. At. Me.

They cheered until they lost their voices. They held signs that had me laughing out loud. They held signs that made me cry.

One read: What you're doing here today is IMPORTANT.

They cared. And whenever I reached those points where I felt pain, or I felt like I wanted to stop? Well, they cheered, and I didn't walk. Because I choose to run. And they choose to watch and cheer. And we were all in it together.


My Fans. 
Andrea, Val, Robb, Allison, Dan, Rachel Steve, Amy, Diana, Lindsay, Amy (yes, two Amys), Kim, Diane, Rachel (yes, two Rachels)...you are all amazing. Your presence was known, and it helped me more than I can say.

Mom and Dad were at the top of Heartbreak Hill. Some background info: My Dad finds my love of Indian cuisine to be amusing. He also knew the in the last couple of weeks before training I had abstained from such delights as to not tempt the gastronomic gods. So he had my mom holding this sign when I reached the top.

And then I took a much-needed quad stretch before it was all downhill -- literally -- to the finish (not as pleasant as it sounds!)

Thank you to all of you who viewed and supported me, in person and online (I know there was a lot of virtual tracking going on!) You were truly there with me every step of of the way.

The other runners. On the course that day were the most elite runners in the world. But I was also blessed to run alongside so many inspirational people. Every race shirt had a story to tell. She survived cancer. He was running for his friend killed in Iraq. She was running for her mother. He was running in honor of a victim of the 2013 bombing.

I'd feel pain and start grimacing. And then a man with no legs would run by me.

You choose to be here. Your pain is completely temporary.

I'd curse my decision to run. And then I'd see a blind woman running alongside her volunteer guide.

What do you have to complain about?

I was tired and overwhelmed. And then I passed Rick and Dick Hoyt, surrounded by team-members, applauded by the crowd and runners alike. 

You are running with heroes.

Photo credit Stephen Goldstein -- mile 23!

Dana-Farber. Boston loves Dana-Farber. I felt so much love from the sidelines and heard countless "thank yous" for having raised money for this organization. My team also had official cheering zones at miles 16 and 25. Those zones were amazing and gave me energy, inspiration, and courage to keep going.

Can you believe this is mile 25? I look DAMN GOOD!

Waving to the Dana-Farber cheering zone at mile 25!

Proudly displaying my Pacesetter badge (Photo Credit: Stephen Goldstein!)

It was a difficult 26.2 miles, but I was prepared. I had trained, I felt great mentally, and I had fueled and hydrated properly (Miami may have been good practice for the heat!) 

It was full of raw emotion, and I had to dig deep at many, many points. (Please keep in mind that I have posted a fraction of the photos taken of me...many are not so...flattering...)

I did my absolute best to soak in every moment and to remember that this was truly one of those experiences in life that you remember forever. This is something you tell your kids about. I knew as it was happening that I would cherish it all: The race of course, but also the fundraising and -- yes -- even the crazy winter training I pushed through. For the rest of my life.

And before I knew it, I saw the Citgo sign. And then I was running through Kenmore Square. And then I was taking a right on Hereford. And a left on Boylston. 

And then I was running on Boylston Street. And the crowd was going crazy. And I was running where it happened last year and I looked towards those spots and my heart burst. And I pushed harder than I've ever pushed before. I felt no pain. I felt no fatigue. I just felt a swell of emotion unlike anything I've ever experienced, and I was smiling through the tears in my eyes, and as I crossed that finish line I laughed and cried at the same time. 

Everyone was crying. And hugging. And laughing. 

Everything with my dad, and with last year and with me, it all came together into this one moment. It was truly beyond words. I was full of gratitude for the amazing people in my life. I felt blessed to have reached that moment. And I felt proud of myself for making it happen.. Ultimately, I guess it was just pure joy.

PRed by several minutes! 4:16:53!

And if I sound crazy or hyperbolic in any way? I assure you I am bit scratching the surface. It really was everything I'm telling you and so much more.

'

Dana-Farber volunteers collected us from the Finish Area and brought us back to the D-F home-base. There, we were greeted with cheers, food, beverages, changing areas, and volunteer masseuses. Truly a VIP Marathon experience. (Please know that we pay a large fee to participate in DFMC! All money donated went 100% to fund early research, and not to give me a massage! Just want you to know!) DFMC and their glorious volunteers put on a class-act show from beginning to end. As I've said before, it is a pleasure and an honor to run with them!

And after I cleaned up and ate and got a massage and then ate some more, I met up with my cheering squad.

Wearing their DFMC Fan Gear!

So what's next? Well, on the way home we stopped for Chinese Food (as I was craving lo mein with near desperation). And my fortune that night hopefully said it all:

Thank you, Reader, for being part of my journey!

Race Recap: Killin' It for Half #9

This past weekend I ran my ninth (!!) official Half. It was my fourth time running Brooklyn and -- as you can tell -- I always like this race and keep comin' back for more.

The entire experience -- all-in-all -- was wonderful. My parents came in on Friday afternoon, and we went to a really cute Italian restaurant in the neighborhood Friday night to get me carbo-loaded up and ready to rock n' roll. 

They inadvertently coordinated outfits because they're just so damn cute.

We had an early bedtime to prep for the 4:45am wake-up call. I like to have a full hour in the apartment before I leave for races to ensure I have everything I need, can sit and eat, use the potty, and just have time to relax and try not to stress. 

As I was explaining to my Dad on the train, it doesn't matter if it's your first half or your ninth. Or your 30th like my awesome friend Sam who just completed 30 Halfs before 30 (Crazy lady! Congrats!) I personally find that I'm still incredibly nervous -- although certainly more prepared -- each time. There's this butterflies feeling in your stomach and this nervous energy all around you. But I think that's the beauty of the thing. It's what separates this day from all the other training days. It's what makes you want to pay the money and put on the bib and do this thing. Could you do it on your own for free? Absolutely. But it's the butterflies and the fans and the finish line that makes it special.

Before leaving the apartment we did a little pre-race photo shoot. My Dad has an "interesting" sense of humor. "Lean to the left," he said. "A little more...a little more..." Until he got me to take this incredibly awkward picture. 

Leaning unnecessarily. While my Dad makes fun of me. And Archie is creepin'.

Funny, Dad. Real funny.

Here's a real one:

Purple shirt? Check!
Watch? Check!
Hat? Check!
Bib? Check!
CREEPIN' CAT? CHECK.
We're ready to roll.

And my fan club and I were on the subway by just past 6 am to get down to Brooklyn.

My mom is carrying all my wordly possessions on her person.  

Once in Brooklyn, my parents transferred to another train to situate themselves at mile 3 -- the first viewing spot I had prescribed for them. I went to the starting corral and arrived in plenty of time to meet up with Joss and Erica (remember them from Miami??) and to use the glorious port-o-potties.

Starting corral

There were two Waves this year because the Brooklyn Half has gotten so big. I remember back in 2008 when I ran my first one and there were just a few thousand runners. This year? I think about 25,000. Insane.

Wave 1 was off at around 7:00am and then Wave 2 begin at 7:30.

We were off.

The course is great for this race. You start at the Brooklyn Museum and spend the first four miles on streets near the Museum and Prospect Park -- one of my favorite places in the city. You then enter the park and do its lovely 3-mile loop before exiting and running straight down a closed-down major roadway to Coney Island. Baller.

Photo of runners on Ocean Parkway courtesy of Ken Glansberg

It wasn't a secret that I was seeking out a PR over my last year's record -- also set in Brooklyn -- of 1:58:48. It was a tough goal, because that pace from last year was a 9:04. I had challenged myself to run at or below at 9:00 mile. For 13.1 miles.

I had changed my training schedule to incorporate Yoga and more "Quality" runs (i.e. hills and speed). And I had really pushed myself with the mileage, getting up to 13 miles during my longest run (whereas normally for Half training I just go to 10 or 11 prior to the Big Day).

All week I ate really well -- not a morsel of lactose hit these lips. Sigh.

I stretched plenty, and I took several rest days. I got a great night sleep for two nights in a row leading up to Saturday. My tummy felt great on Saturday am (although the preventative Imodium can never hurt!) All-in-all, I was ready.

Miles 1-7 were great. With Erica and Joss by my side, I held just over a 9:00 average pace. It's a flat course with one [horrible] hill around mile 5. With that behind me, leaving the Park and heading down Ocean Parkway, I felt like I could rule the world.

Miles 8-9 were okay. I was starting to fatigue a bit from holding that pace, which absolutely is pushing it for me. But I still felt strong.

I saw my parents at Mile 9 and that gave me another little boost, but shortly after I started feeling the pain. My joints and my muscles and my lungs were okay, but I was just TIRED. And I think dehydrated. 

Not gonna lie to you right now, Miles 10 - 13 were just totally grotesque. I really didn't enjoy them. But my own ass-like stubbornness made me push through at a sub-9:00 pace. I was at about 1:30 and knew that I was technically physically capable to do three miles in under 27 minutes. So I was determined to do so. 

I'm kind of an idiot sometimes.

Wheezing, coughing, and muttering to myself like a crazy person, I carried on.

With my blessing, Erica sped away into the sunset to conquer her own personal PR (and school me in the process). She has been battling a knee injury since Miami, so I was really happy to see her so strong.

And I was jealous as hell as I sputtered along, cursing my own sweaty body, the misty air that was cooling -- yet somehow also was pissing me off -- and all the happy people around me who seemed oblivious to all the PAIN IN THE WORLD.

Around mile 12 I really thought I was going to pass out. But knowing that I had only one more mile to go, I just couldn't justify slowing down or stopping at this point.

If I pass out, I pass out, I said to myself.

Then a moment later, what is wrong with you. You used to not even run the mile during gym class and now you're proposing vomitting on yourself or passing out in the middle of a race just to beat your own best time WHICH STILL PUTS YOU IN LITERALLY 10,000th place! [Sidebar: This is a true story. I came in 10,004th place in this race. Sidebar over.]

What has become of you. I'm not sure if I approve of you anymore, I then said to myself. As the real me in my head shook her head in disappointment while eating a wheel of brie.

Around mile 12.5 you hit the end of Ocean Parkway and bang a right. In front of you is the iconic Coney Island ferris wheel and the spectators went from a few sparse individuals to a crowded, loud, exuberant crowd.

It was those cheering people that pushed me to finish.

So GO. I said to myself. That famous mantra from Miami came back again. Just Go.

With just that pesky 0.1 mile to go, I ran up a steep ramp (UGH) to the boardwalk and sprinted as fast as I possibly could to the finish. I have no idea how fast that last stretch was, but I truly felt like I was flying at that moment.

Just as I was about to cross the finish line, I looked at my watch. 1:57:25.

What.

WHAT.

WHAT!!!!!

Almost a minute and a half PR.

BOOYAH SUCKA! EAT IT! I WON THE RACE!!

(Again, for the record...10,000th place. Just sayin'.)

Erica was waiting for me at the finish. We embraced sweatily. All smiles.

A medal, step n' repeat, and hand on hip. OWNIN' it.

Me, Erica, our medals, and our PR smiles

Fan Club!!

At this point the adrenaline was starting to slow down and my own sweatiness was turning into just...wetness. A pool of my own filth and grossness. So sexy.

Before I even noticed I was cold, my father -- the former EMT -- had the good sense to see that things could deteriorate quickly. The forecast had called for low 70s and sunny at the finish, but instead it was high 50s to low 60s and misting. Yuck-a-roo.

So he literally gave me the shirt off of his back.

Love this glam shot. STYLIN'!

What a guy!!! 

Because I was cold [and beginning to smell myself], we made our way to the subway without stopping for beer and hot dogs. But we paused for photo ops.

We then headed to Cascabel on the Upper East Side for brunch and bottomless cocktails. Wherein my parents demonstrated that they are not only the cutest...but also the coolest. Best. Brunch. Ever.

2pm, drunk, and exhausted, we all passed out. We woke up, ordered in Chinese, watched bad TV, and then went back to bed. Honestly, I couldn't have dreamed up a more perfect race-day.

In conclusion:

Hooray for amazing parents who couldn't be more supportive in every possible way with these running shenangians.

Hooray for unlimited cocktails!

Hooray for reaching a goal!

And HOORAY FOR ARCHIE!!

Archie + PR Race Medal = Best pictures ever. Fact.

Spring > Not Spring

Spring -- it appears -- is officially here.

It's about damn time.

Honestly, the treadmill thing is done. And this comes from one of the few non-treadmill haters in the world. I just can't anymore. 

I. Just. Can't. 

Even the awkwardness of the Today Show's implosion can't make those morning indoor runs pleasant for me any longer. 

My New York Sports Club branch also isn't making things any easier by slowly but surely replacing all the "good" treadmills once they need maintenance with cheap, horrible machines. 

Old treadmills. Did the trick.

The new equipment is lacking a bit

But now that it is warm enough and is light enough before and after work, I can end my hibernation and plan outdoor runs exclusively. Ta-ta until November, NYSC!

The next big running milestone for MeriG is the Brooklyn Half this May. This will be my 4th time running this particular race (2008, 2009, 2012) and I love it, love it, love it. As you may recall, it was this race where last year I finally broke the 2:00 mark and PRed like a Kenyan. The course is flat and the weather tends to be great, and so -- this year -- I would love to PR again. In order to do so, I'll need to run faster than a 9:05 pace which, honestly, is going to be a tough task. 

So in order to take things to the next level, I'm attempting to mix up my typical training schedule just a bit. What I've been doing for Marathon and Half marathon training the last few years is basically the following:

Mon - Easy Run

Tues - Conditioning

Wed - Slightly harder run

Thurs - Conditioning or a short easy run

Fri - Rest

Sat - Long Run (increases each week leading up to race until taper)

Sun - Rest

Something like that. It changes week to week, but that's the general gist.

For the "next level," I've done a lot of reading on the matter and am basically altering the schedule to as follows:

Mon - Easy Run

Tues - Conditioning

Wed - Quality Run (hills, speed work, etc.)

Thurs - Conditioning and/or a short easy run

Fri - Rest 

Sat - Long Run -- but paying more attention to pace

Sun - Yoga (part of #OnceAWeekYoga I've started with my friend Eleanora...if you make it into a hash-tag it's a real thing, we decided)

I also have a schedule that actually has me running up to 14-15 miles in the weeks leading up to the half and then backing down to 13.1 miles for the race. I believe this officially puts me into "Intermediate" training territory now, and I can no longer pretend I'm a Novice. Sigh. That was so much more fun and interesting.

So as part of this training, this past Sunday I ran the Colon Cancer 15K (9.3 miles). Sometimes it's nice to have little "non-race" races to help break up training. 

You may say, but wait, hold up a sec. Couldn't you, like, run for free? As opposed to paying to run?

A solid point you make. But in order to break up training monotony, I find that it can be nice to occasionally have the starting line and the finish line and the water and the fellow runners to make the run a little more fun and special.

I stole some pictures of myself from the Internet (which is why they look stretched...thievery will give you horizontally stretched pictures as punishment). 

Making funny faces at the starting line. Also wearing my favorite Bondi Band: I Run So I Can Eat. YES.

Have lost the long sleeves because I get too sweaty. Shuffling along!

Not gonna lie. See the woman in all black to my left? I saw her at the last stretch and irrationally decided I would BEAT her and I did. And that is why I am smiling. I WON, SUCKA!!!

Posing for the camera after the finish line

The best part of Sunday, however, was not my little 15K. It was the fact that the famed Betsy of past-blog entry fame entered and completed her first 4 mile race. And she completed that race under her goal. It's great to see other people "getting" my running thing a little bit. Running races and having these goals isn't the easiest -- I think -- to understand unless want to do it yourself. It's nice being a part of Betsy's experience and she makes goals for herself and makes them into reality.

Finishers!

B also has started a great blog on the topic of life changes and goal-making (and breaking?) It's called "Clean Fonts and Dirty Jokes" (which I love) and what I love most about it is that it is so real. I read a lot of blogs and sometimes I want to punch some people in the face. Just saying. [Side bar: When you want to punch me in the face, you are honestly welcome and encouraged to post about it in the comments. Sometimes I want to punch myself in the face. Running. Marathons. Pshhhhhhh.]

B is a hilarious writer and has a very authentic voice about how difficult it really, truly is to make changes. 

So congrats to Betsy and congrats to YOU on it being Spring! I think we all deserve a pat on the back for riding out that long, rough winter.