There are Good Race Photos . . . and There are Bad

And you know me. I'm shameless and shameful at once, so I'm going to show you both. These are the pictures Brightroom photo took of me at the Jax Marine Corps Half Marathon. 100% humidity meant it rained the whole way and we got stuck in the mud at the end.

First, of course, is the bad. Because it's just so freaking hilarious. I'm not doing my "arms up, tubby-finished-the-race" pose. You can tell by the look on my face that I was pretty much like, "Eff this. I can't run through this nonsense without falling dead on my face." So I didn't run. I slogged. What else does one do in mud that comes all the way almost up to one's ankles? And who knows what I was saying. "Holy crap this is some deep mud"? "Thank God I'm done"? Your guess is as good as mine. I know by posting it I'm inviting the Photoshoppers, but I really don't care.

That's in part because there was a good photo. In fact, it's probably my favorite race photo so far, or close to it. Now, mind you, the smile and the thumbs up are totally fake. At the point that this photo is being taken, the mystery chafe has long ensued, the crooked nipples are in full effect, I just realized there's NO way I'm going to PR because I thought I had .5 mile left and I have an entire mile, and my right arch is killing me. I've decided to walk part of the way, I want the photographer to die a horrible death for daring to snap a shot of me while I'm in this state, and I'm praying my husband is at the finish line with my flip flops and a giant electrolyte drink and my meds. It is also quite clear that, while supportive models are available, there is no such thing as a flattering sports bra for a large-breasted woman.

But, the smile doesn't look too fake, I don't look like a total fatass, and you can tell I was at least trying. And it's proof of one more race down. One more finish under my belt. 13.1 miles gone. In 100% humidity. At over 80 degrees. While I was sick as a dog. After barely training. I guess a finish was more than I could even ask for, let alone one within 5 minutes of my last half marathon time.

So, am I still doing Philly? Yup. Why not?

Now I have to finish work so I can go home and attempt a 10-mile run.

LBCM OMGWTFBBQ . . . . and More Post-Race Reflections

I've got lots of great post-race reflections now that the Race Crank, Crooked N's, and MC are gone. I had some time to get over the pain. I'm having a quick and almost pain-free recovery (I'll be ready to run tomorrow - no problem! - and I'm kind of pumped about it, too). I got realistic and admitted to myself that a PR is not the point of racing - in fact, some of my best race times followed a race or two after a disappointing, non-PR'ing race. I started bragging a little about what a hero I was to start the race to begin with. Given my medical history, I'm allowing myself to be amazed that I also finished - and I'm remembering to be THANKFUL. (Hello?!!!! A few months ago I was all gratefulness for being able just to train. After the past few weeks, I could have easily written this race off and said, I can't do it. I'm too sick.) And I'm positive that I'll be able to do Philly. In 5 hours? Maybe. In 6? Possibly. Does it matter how long it takes me to finish? Please, God, don't let me forget that the answer to this question is NO.

So let's move on to Other People's Problems.

I asked this question in the "going places" forum on the Higdon boards, but what happened at LBCM this weekend? Looks like record humidity and temperatures and even a death during the race? Appears that the race was cancelled while some people were at mile 21?

Please, Lord, and anyone else reading this, forgive me if any of this sounds harsh, but I really want to know what happened.

High temperatures and humidity? It was about 84 degrees from what I gather. How humid was it? How many aid stations were there? In Florida, endurance races (even Ironman distance triathlons) are held at temps in the 90's and humidity up to 100%. Our aid stations on endurance races can some times be few and far between (every other mile some times, even during longer races). The last tri I did was held at 8am, lasted until close to noon, was 96 degrees and over 70% humidity (VERY low for us), and aid stations were only on the run, every 1.5 miles - and the course had almost no shade. Yesterday I ran a half-marathon in 100% humidity and 80+ degrees. These races were not cancelled. People rarely die. (I say rarely because there are always IM tragedies). And NOT all the runners were native Chicago-ans, so you can't say "we're just not used to that up here."

What made LBCM different?

I'm Starting A New Trend: The Reverse PR

What a classic Greek race weekend. By Greek I mean tragedy and comedy. I'm actually laughing at a lot more now than I was yesterday. In fact, I've even created a separate blog on the comedy - it's all about The Mystery Chafe. (Read that if you want a quick giggle instead, because this report will be LONG).

I was still hungry at 10pm the night before the race, so my husband and I shared some food. (Yes, he actually came with me, although we slept like brother and sister - not touching, different sides of the bed. Anyway, moving on - that'll turn into a blog of its own if I let it.) The hotel had a sleep mask and a sound CD, though, as well as a memory foam bed. It was WONDERFUL. I'm one of those prissy sleepers that likes a sound machine and a sleep mask. (Trust me, if you ever have EDS, and you're tired enough to sleep all day long, you'll understand that there is NO value that can be placed on a great and luxurious sleep at night, when you're actually supposed to be sleeping).

5am came early, and everything was going along as planned (quick shower, make coffee) until I realized I don't have my timing chip. "Shit, shit, shit!" I yelled, running into the bathroom where Mr. MAJ was. "You need to HUSTLE. It's almost 5:30am and I need extra time to pick up a timing chip. I forgot mine."

(HOW long have I been doing this??? Thankfully, he didn't ask. By the way, I never got my damn coffee!)

So we hustled. I think I saw Clint from the Higdon Forums, but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to walk up to some random dude and start a conversation (although, later, I did exactly that.) Got there in plenty of time for a Clif bar, half a Power Bar, some Powerade, my energy drink, some water, and a warmup. Except that it rained on me the whole time and I was already soaked by the time the race started. The handful of salt pills I had stashed in my back pocket (yes, I also forgot a Ziploc for those) was melted together from the rain and I decided to just down all 4 before the run. (Considering that it was 100% humidity and I have low BP, this is never a bad thing for me.) At some point Al just went and waited in the car. I felt really good during my warmup, though. At one point I ran to the car and stuck my head in to tell him, "I sooooo got this!"

But seriously. I did. I mean, I was going to be out there about HALF the time I spend on a triathlon. Right? I was ready. I was even wearing my little necklace that says Life is What You Make It. Which I kept re-adjusting during the race to remind myself.

I started out feeling really comfortable, on track for an 11 min/mile pace (about my goal since my 5k race pace is 10 and change and I have been regularly running 10min miles in my 5-10 mile training runs). My only real goal, though: beat last year's race, my first 1/2, by any amount of time. But I have short, quick strides, and right away I got a little too into the marines yelling their cadence, somehow got into their long strides and wasted a little energy. I knew this when people were already passing me on mile one, even though I'd slapped myself onto the very tail of the pack. Then I ran into this guy named Al (yes, REALLY!!) who was really cool and we talked through the first 5 miles. I'm not sure if his pace threw me off or if he helped me because he distracted me. he lost me At mile 5 I let myself get mentally psyched out by the water kids who were like "Great, you're the last one," when I came by. I glanced behind me to see if anyone was there and there were at least 10 people. "LIAR!" I yelled at them as I ran off.

Almost no walking, not even through water stations. Almost no chafing (except the aforementioned Mystery Chafe.) I was still looking good by mile 9 with about 50 minutes left to comfortably run the remaining 4 miles. Then, just after the last hill, where the mile 11 sign was posted, I passed a group of spectators standing by Hooters cheering. "One more mile to go!!!" they were yelling at everyone. I looked down at my watch, which told me I could lope along and still PR by 10 minutes. "One more mile?" I yelled. "Are you trippin'?" They yelled back, "NO!"
One more mile? Shit, I got this. PR City. I put on some hustle.

They were wrong.

I still had almost 2 miles left. I passed mile 12 and I wanted to cry. There's no way I could get to 13.1 in the 6 minutes I had remaining. I had even slowed to chat with a dude who seemed to be struggling, trying to pep him up. "I've been trying to catch you for 12 miles!" I told him. At mile 10, my right arch had really started to hurt, so by this point I was so disheartened I just sort of shuffled. I walked for the first real time during the race.I crossed the finish line second to last in my age group and REVERSE PR'D.

Last year I finished 120/144 in 2:45; this year 2:50.
Jax, This Year
#537 412/over 500 77/78 W25-29 2:50:56 2:52:15 13:02
OUC, Last Year
#99 120/144W25-29 1699/1916 overall 2:45:53 2:45:04 12:39.7

Needless to say, I'm not pleased. I have improved all of my run times by over 2 minutes/mile. I was supposed to have my foot issues fixed. Triathlon has made me stronger, more determined and faster. I did take an extended taper and have been sick the past few weeks, but I really feel disappointed by the results. I'm now wondering whether I can hack it at Philly in 6 weeks, or if I should have bothered signing up for FL Half Ironman in May, but I'll wait to make those decisions until the stiffness is gone, and the Mystery Chafe is gone. (By the way, really, really fantastic work by Clint, who finished in about half the time I did.)

So, yeah. Do it, baby. The Reverse PR. It's the hot new thing. Everyone's doing it.

WEEK 9, DAY 1: Lots of yoga and hugs for a tri-friend

Life is boring when you're not really working out. Well, I'm working out, but I'm not really training. I'm doing tons of yoga. I did 4 classes last week plus a swim. My goal is to do 1-2 yoga classes this week, get a massage, at least one ride and a swim, and attempt 2-3 runs. Of course, this all depends on how my "trial run" tomorrow goes. By the way, I have officially lost 10 pounds. (Don't get too excited. I gained 25 when I got sick, so this doesn't mean I really lost anything, it just means I only gained 15.)

While I am stuck in the never-neverland of healing, which is populated with foam rollers, The Stick, massages, ice packs and limps, one of my great triathlon inspirations, Jayme Murray, tackled her first Ironman this weekend. I have yet to hear her full report on the race. I know she did not finish, but I also know she faced a lot of hardships and was sick for the swim as well as the first half of the bike. Jayme is one of the people I'm glad to have virtually met through the vast network of tri-bloggers. She reminds me of me . . . but better. She's a lot further in her training than I am, but her purpose and her dedication are so solid and her enjoyment of the experience is so clear that it is nearly impossible to read one of her blogs without being inspired. I hope one day we get to do a race together.

If you read this, Jayme, I am sending you a giant hug and looking forward to hearing your report.