Avenue of the Giants Marathon Race Report

The first few miles felt slow and effortless, I had to remind myself to run slow up the first few hills.  These were the longest hills of the course, climbing the same 100 ft several times before topping out at the first turn around at just over 400 ft.  The climb is gradual and meanders along the Eel River at first, then dashes into the Redwood groves.  I imagined what my fellow runners were thinking.  Even though this wasn’t my first time through this stretch of the park, it always feels like it.  If described in one word: mesmerizing.  Stare into the trees, back at the road, repeat.  Danny planned to run with me for the first half of the race and then take off on his own pace to finish.  So far, we were the only ones chatting along the course.  Without spectators or wind to bring noise to the air, all we heard was footsteps; hundreds of feet moving in tandem.  Clap clap clap clap. 

I usually alternate Gatorade and water at the aid stations throughout a marathon course.  My first cup of water fell into my stomach like a grenade.  Since giving up coffee before runs, I’ve found myself with no stomachaches whatsoever.  It was just water, tummy, what the heck?  The cramping traveled to my back muscles and made climbing a bit less fun.

By the first aid station almost three miles in, we caught up to Jane.   Our conversation was light and floated along through the meandering forest as gently as our footsteps.  These first miles felt easy and relaxed.  Just after the first turn around, one quarter of the marathon, we picked up another runner, Scott, a college student from Corvallis.  This was his first marathon.  He hoped to break four hours, but judging by the ease and length of his sentences, it was clear he wasn’t running hard at all and would beat his goal.  It was fun running with a group, we joked that we were the 3:30 pacers.  I hoped to keep up the pace for the remainder of the marathon.  The distraction from running was motivating, we ran along as if we were just out for a training run, not a race.  The seriousness that sometimes accompanies road racers wasn’t noticeable, none of us jockeyed for position in front of the other, and we just ran in a tight enough pack to be able to hear the conversation. 

10 miles: 1:20:02.

About mile 10, they pulled away from me at an aid station.  For the first time in the race, I was alone with my thoughts.  I tried to remind myself that they were accelerating and it wasn’t me that was slowing.  According to my mile splits, I still was fine.  No big deal, except it was.  I missed the conversation pulling me along the road and suddenly my pace felt ten times harder.  I struggled to catch up as they cruised to halfway, when my first 7:40 mile appeared, I let them go.  As they disappeared around the corner, Danny slowed to run with me through the halfway as he planned. 

The last mile to the halfway point was downhill and I found I really needed it, but my legs twisted and wobbled.  I had almost rolled my ankle a couple of times already.  Since it was road training season, my stabilizing ligaments and muscles through my knees and ankles had become weak.  They were beginning to grow sore, especially at a road pace.  The can handle my trail pace, but that is several minutes per mile slower than this.  Top marathon speed and the terrain was no match for my legs.

13.1 mi: 1:45:11.

We reached the largest group of spectators on the entire course near the start/finish at halfway.  They cheered wildly, waving signs and giving high fives.  Then we crossed the Eel River Bridge and dropped into a quiet Redwood grove.  Here was where I began to crumble.  When we climbed the approach to the bridge over the freeway at about mile 15, a runner came up from behind.  “The website said this was an optical illusion, but it really is a hill,” he began, “I can’t wait until we hit this ‘illusion’ again at mile 25.”  Meh, at least the pavement is nice on this hill; I thought to myself and pulled ahead to stay in my own head.

By 15 miles, my legs had enough.  I had seriously underestimated the difficulty of the first half.  Each step strained muscles I wasn’t used to and my stride shortened a bit.  After my first mile over 9:00, I knew that not even the BQ was possible for the day.  My stomachache was still there, my legs hurt, and I hadn’t been eating enough creating this wonderful dizzy feeling that I couldn’t shake.  I thought about the backup race I had been considering all through training.  It was June 1 and pancake flat.  It could be a re-do, all too easy to give up now and try again later.  I usually hit a weak patch like this about 15-18 miles in on every marathon.  This where I usually turn on my ipod.  It suddenly transforms dark cloud, Grumpy Bear Karen into boom, dance PARTAY.  It usually keeps me happy and kicking strong until mile 23, then I can bargain with myself enough to finish strong.  The only kicking I was doing now was myself for forgetting it in the car on our scramble to the starting line.

And just like that, my mind had checked out.  I was going for Newport.  I sealed my fate with a nice walk break that only served to cramp my legs further, so I began running again, this time doubling up on the aid stations, determined to alleviate the dizziness.  I had a Gu with my water and chatted with volunteers.  I stopped to stretch, walked a little, and lingered at a couple aid stations.  It didn’t feel easy enough to be entirely enjoyable, but for the first time on the second half, at least I enjoyed the scenery.  As friends running the half marathon passed by in the other direction, they cheered me on.  It did lighten my mood a little.  My buddies are so supportive no matter how awful I look. If it weren’t for the deal with Paul and Relay for Life, I would have dropped instead of continuing on.

Awesome form, huh?

The final 10K seemed to drag on forever.  I found myself leapfrogging the walker half marathoners.  I had mentally given up and began beating myself up for it.  This feeling would linger the rest of the day, including the final step across the finish line, until eventually coming to a head as I sobbed on Matt’s shoulder that night.  Marathons are stupid, I’m pretty sure I don’t ever want to run another.  Boston is stupid. I probably should start running 5Ks instead.  Yeah, that sounds best. 

After a 2:06 second half, I finished in 3:51.  I wasn’t disappointed in the time.  Just eight minutes slower than my PR, it certainly could have been worse.  After I claimed my medal, Tanya was waiting at the finish line for me.  “I’ve been here waiting for you.  What happened, honey?” she asked as she gave my soaking wet clothes a hug.  I didn’t know what to say.  The last two marathon performances were blamed on the weather.  This one was all on me.

Side note: I’m fine about this race. Talked it out, cried a bit, and now I’m learning my lessons and moving on. Promise.

Avenue of the Giants: The Good.

I’m going to write about Sunday’s marathon in three posts, titled “The Good”, “The Bad”, and “The Ugly”.  They all represent different feelings and I in no way want to diminish any of them by lumping things together.  You'll see why later (dun dun duuuuunnnn).

The weekend began nicely, Matt and I went for a short hike and picnic in the sunshine at Lost Coast Headlands and it was beautiful.  We hiked most of the way down to Fleener Creek and then picnicked up on the bluff overlooking the ocean.  It looked remarkably similar to the backpacking trip we did, but with much less driving.  This hiking trail is basically the teaser trail for the Lost Coast Trail. 

It was very windy the entire day, so we moved back inland to one of Ferndale’s city parks.  We laid out a blanket and spent the afternoon chatting, relaxing, and enjoying the beautiful day in the shade.  I always forget how nice it is to enjoy the outdoors on a warm afternoon.  Rarely is it warm enough to sit around, so I usually opt to keep moving.  By the end of the day, I had a horrible sinus headache from being outside and my body felt a bit wrecked.  That worried me a little.

That night, we had a runner dinner of pasta, salad, and brownies at our house.  The wind had calmed and we dined on the patio, the five of us.  Guests Jane and Jo were from out of town, Fairbanks and Houston represented.  Danny was from a little nearer, but still not quite local anymore, from Ukiah.  We enjoyed the simple dinner and then watched the movie, Prefontaine.   It was wonderful.

We went to bed a little later than expected, but I slept wonderfully and woke up feeling rested and ready to take on the marathon.  The weather was 55F and cloudy at the start.  The coastal stratus had made its way into the valley and the morning was slightly chilled, although very damp.  All conditions were perfect.  

Matt was the first finisher of all of us, coming in at 2:51:36, a 6:33/mi.  His finish was good enough for 4^th overall and a win in his age group.  He ran a fantastic race and I couldn’t be more proud of him. 

Notice that he lapped 10K and half runners.  SRRC photo.

Danny finished next.  He perfectly executed the race day plan he set for himself, running a 1:45 for the first half with me and then picking up the pace until the end and finishing in 3:24:53, a 7:48/mi.  That was awesome.

Danny taking down a mob of half runners.  SRRC photo.

The consistent and very experienced Fairbanksan, Jane, ran a 3:35:56, an 8:15/mi pace.  She won the Grand Masters age division and took home a bunch of fantastic prizes.  Her current goal is to join the 50 States Sub-4 Marathon club, she’s about 15 states in and has repeated many of them.  She’s run more Alaskan marathons that anybody else, winning many of them.  She’s kinda the runner I want to be when I grow up: experienced, calculated, and still kicking ass.

Jane L. photo credit.

Giving Back Through Running

During my senior year of college, I was on my university's American Cancer Society team.  The first meeting, we introduced ourselves and why we were there.  Even though it was one year post treatment, I wasn’t at all ready to process my feelings, especially in public and I burst into tears.  Of course the other team members understood, some of whom were also survivors.  I attended meetings and helped plan our school's Relay for Life.  The days leading up to our relay, I was a mess.  I was anxious and jittery.  I didn't sleep well.  My college best friend, Amy, came to visit to support me.  At the last minute, I decided I wasn't ready.  I couldn't face such an emotionally charged event.

We made dirt cake people instead.

I still don't know if I'm ready, but this year, I decided to give it another shot.  Who knows, I may never be ready to deal with those feelings.  They fit nicely in a box in the back of my mind, it would be so easy to leave them there.  I'm joining my local running club's team for the Relay for Life.  I plan to run at least a marathon on the track that night and will probably still sob my way through the survivor lap.  It may not do more than reduce me to a blubbering mess, but it will help fund a cause that helped me through my treatment.

Through their Hope Lodge (think Ronald McDonald house for adult cancer patients) program, my family and I were able to save thousands of dollars in lodging and gain support from other guests.  They always had snacks available, a big kitchen stocked with food, and a weekly dinner prepared by local organizations.  At moments when I felt the most alone, I knew I could turn to the friends I had there for understanding.  This is why I've decided to try once again: to attempt to chip away at a debt I know I'll never repay.

(Source)

Earlier this week, a running buddy proposed in interesting idea for me to work for my donation.  Here's his deal:  For every minute I run the marathon under 4:00, he will donate a dollar.  If I qualify for Boston (3:35), he will add another $26.20 to the donation.

I agreed to his offer and will think of it as motivation when I'm running on Sunday.

If you would like to contribute to my Relay for Life page, you can visit it here.  If you'd like to make me work for my money in another way, leave it in the comments and I'll see what I can do. :)

Avenue Goals

“What is it with you and marathons??!?! I don't know exactly the forecast for Weott, but it looks to be unseasonably warm.”  Honestly, I didn’t really look at the forecast until I got this message.  Matt had been assuring me for nearly a year that this race has perfect, almost climate-controlled weather being that it was under the Redwoods.  When I checked it out, this is what I found:

It was pretty much instant panic from there especially after Matt confirmed that the high pressure parked over us didn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon.  That was Monday.

Now, as if by miracle, a tiny front appeared on the forecast models, cooler temperatures for the weekend.  Cue collective sigh of relief.  It isn’t going to be as cool as I’d like, but the heavily shaded course will buy me more time to finish the race before it gets too hot....as much as 10 degrees cooler under the trees, and probably an 11:30am finish, well before the high temperature part of the day.

The course is a double out-and-back, venturing 6.55 mi. in one direction, returning to the start/finish, and then out another road for another 6.55 mi.  The first 6.55 mi climbs overall and the pavement is really bad in some spots.  It will require similar attentions to footing as trail running.  Everyone I’ve asked about the marathon has said that the first half chews up your legs with the roadway being as it is.  Portions of it were repaved since last year’s race, however.  With this, I’ve decided to take a bit of a conservative approach to the first half: 8:00/mi. out and no faster than 7:45/mi back.  After that, I’ll re-evaluate to see what I can hold for the remaining half.  How all that turns out will depend on everything besides the course.  

 

Taken from Humboldt Redwoods Marathon page.  The photo is reversed because 

HRM is the same course, only in reverse.  It amounts to about 1,500 ft. of gain.

I will be running the first half with, Danny, our trail running adventure buddy.  He’s training for a June 1 marathon and decided to run the first half with me and then accelerate to the finish, effectively completing a 26.2 mi. progression run.  On an ideal day, I’d like to at least keep him in my sights to the end.  Realistically, I don’t think that’s likely. 

Ideal day, perfect EVERYTHING and karma pays me back for last year: 3:25.  7:49/mi.

Just your average day: sub-3:30. 8:01/mi.

The wheels fall off: 3:34:59. 8:11/mi.

Current PR: 3:43:07. 8:31/mi. (the monsoon year, CIM 2012)

This has been my most consistent training cycle ever and I feel like I’ve had a breakthrough this spring.  Hopefully it will show in the marathon on Sunday.

Three days!

Last Week: April 21-27

Sunday: Run 3 mi. Matt and I spent the day marking the Avenue courses.  Those three miles were official, but the real running mileage was probably 5-6.  It was great to get another course preview.

Monday:  Rest!  Didn't want to rest on this one at all, but I did because I know it will help me feel better on race day.

Tuesday:  Run 5 mi. fartlek.  Strength: Core, legs.  Warm sunshine day.  A trigger point in my back made this one less fun even though the weather was perfect. I wore a tank top for the first time this year.

Wednesday:  Run 6 MRP.  I seriously felt like I was melting for this run, as it was way too and dry hot for what I'm used to (foggy and 50 and air so thick I can drink it).  Our town set a new high temperature record for this day.  California seriously has wimped me out on the heat, because really, 75F isn't all that warm.  I can do bitter cold, but the heat kills me every time.  Gutted it out and still hit paces. (Goal: 7:49-8:00)

Thursday:  Run 5.5 mi, 5x800.  A family of deer enjoyed watching us from a grassy spot above the track.  They got up and left just seconds after I finished my last repeat.  After doing mile repeats most of the season at this same pace, these felt very easy.  It felt like I wasn't even trying.  When I doubt myself, I remind myself how over the moon I felt about this run. (Goal: 3:25-3:30)

Friday:  Run 4 mi. easy.  This one felt great, the sun was warm, but it was more than windy enough to make it nice.  It was unscheduled, but I needed to get out and play a little. :)  I also got a massage to get rid of that trigger point.  I almost jumped off the table several times, but I think she got it out.  No more pain. 

Saturday: Run 8 mi.  This was our last long run before Avenue.  The air was back to normal and drizzled a little.  It felt good.  Miles 3-4 were on the sidewalk along the Rhododendron Parade route and it was energizing to run with some background music and entertainment.  Asked Matt if we could join the parade, he said no.  Party pooper.

This is how I like my air: cool and saturated, like drinking a glass of water.

TOTAL MILES:  31.5

Notes:  The spot on my back bothered me a lot during the week.  I worry too much about little nagging spots when I taper.  Clearly training does more than keep just my legs busy.  After Saturday's run, I've felt a drastic increase in energy, especially in daily activities.  I've been a non-stop baking machine.  The house is pretty clean too.  One last week of resting and it's race day!

Running Adventures on the Taper

As my mileage continues to dwindle as we approach marathon day, I find no shortage of activities to fill my day.  Last weekend, I ran a total of nine miles, but it was a very running oriented two days.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

Saturday, I volunteered at the Master's Run, a 10K race only open to runners 40 years and better.  On several occasions, I've had friends tell me I'm not allowed to run it, just in case I forgot what masters meant.  I've got a good solid decade before I'm allowed to run with them, they say.  Even so, several people asked if I was injured when I said I wasn't running.  I don't really look like I'm 40 do I??

This race is unlike the other club ones.  On an age graded scale I don't quite understand, the oldest person gets the biggest head start.  In our club's case, it was Lynn, at 79 years old.  Most people began a full twenty minutes after her.

The exciting part was watching the finishes that sparked unusual rivalries.  The best finish duel went to Ken (71 years old) and Brett (44).  Ken once held the national record for indoor marathon (2:35:52) and a 41 year daily running streak until 2010.  Brett runs the occasional race solo and with his four year old son.  He often tells me I need to slow down so he can catch me.  Ken won this duel by one second. I love that the photo caught the moment that Ken noticed he was being chased down.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

I manned the aid table.  I almost wish I was a masters runner so I could indulge in all the food (oh wait, I did anyway, hehe).  From cookies to pound cake, chips to chocolate, almond, and soy milk; there was something for everyone's tastes.  It makes the finish food table at our race look like there's a famine.

Sunday, Matt and I drove the Avenue of the Giants Marathon, half and 10K course remarking the permanent paint signs on the roadway with the race director and her husband.  Due to recent resurfacing of portions of the first half of the course, many markings disappeared.  We had to estimate the mile #3 and #4 spot, but the rest of them were all intact even if a little difficult to find.  It made me both excited and a little nervous about the marathon.  It definitely isn't flat.  Gary assured me that helping with this would give me a mental edge because I knew the course and mile markers better than most people.  It also earned Matt and I our comp entries into the race.

Marathon course mile 14-15ish, Half course mile 2

Then Matt and I did a short trail run on an unmarked trail that can best be described as the Poison Oak Challenge.  I'm just discovering new blisters that go with the scabbed over ones still healing from our Lost Coast trip.   Oh goody. :)

The majority of this week has been dedicated to resting, stretching, and building a chicken house.  With Matt's recent promotion and committing to stay longer, we're welcoming some tasty meat chickens into our home.  Zoey has never seen chickens before so we'll be excited to see her reaction.  Matt is just excited to tell anyone who'll listen that he's going out tomorrow at 8:30 to pick up chicks. ;)

What's your favorite thing to do when you're tapering?

Last Week: April 14-20

Sunday:  Hike 6.5 mi.  Lost Coast, part 1.

Monday: Hike 10.5 mi.  Lost Coast, part 2.

Tuesday:  Hike 9.5 mi.  Lost Coast, the final day.

Wednesday: Hike 2 mi. in the Redwoods.

Thursday:  Run 5 mi.  2x1600m with the Tri Club. This was the day I felt the worst with the cold, so I decided to keep the workout short.  I ran hard the first one (and ran my fastest mile ever) and then got a dizzying sinus pressure on the second one and called it a day.  What you see below is: warm up mile, some 100m strides and recoveries (that mystery 3 min), (1600m fast, 400m recovery)x2, and cool down 1.25 mi. to get me an even 5 mi.  The tri club is really great about getting a thorough warmup beforehand, but this week it left me pretty tanked when I started the repeats.

Friday: Run 5 mi. easy.  Strength: Core, legs, butt.

Saturday: Run 6 mi. MRP @7:51/mi.  I didn't enjoy this run at all.  It was a gusty wind day and the day before my period.  Just the latter alone usually translates to feeling like garbage no matter what workout I do, so it might as well be MRP, right?  I am happy that my period won't be anywhere near an issue for race day. :) 

Total Miles: 44.5
Hiking 28.5
Running 16

Notes:  This was taper week #1 (of 3) and didn't feel restful at all.  Hiking miles feel very different from road running miles.  I caught a cold on Tuesday, thankfully the worst of it was short lived.  There's a little tightness in my chest when I run, but other than that, I think the majority of the cold is gone. 

Since the week was heavier with long slower stuff, I nixed all my easy runs and long run and just squeezed in a short track workout and a marathon pace run.

Matt and I are beginning to devise our race day plan now too.  Since the course is a double out and back, it is split evenly into four neat parts.  It will be easy to build a strategy from and I'll get to cheer for Matt a couple of times!!   In a later post, I'll write more about goals and my plan. 

If you are a lady, do you ever notice whether your cycle affects your workouts?  I've been noticing mine for a few years, and the day before and first two days are awful for everything.  Every other day is fine.

If you are a guy, have I scared you away yet? aren't you glad you don't have to deal with this?  I'm glad Matt doesn't think this is all in my head.  He's actually the person who noticed it before I did.

Lost Coast Trail, the last day.

April 16 

Matt always mentions that the last day of every backpacking trip, I speed up.  I found this laughable as Joel and Kim slowly pulled away from us as we walked south along the beach.  I start out slowly each day and stay that same pace, not slowing as I fatigue more.  My legs get into a rhythm and they just keep going without much thought to forward motion.  This third and final day of our marathon length journey also coincided with the onset of a cold.  I was also very sick of the wind.  My hands and face were chapped even though they were mostly out of the wind.

We crossed many creeks of varying depths and difficulty.  At a few streams, Joel and Kim teased that our decision was like the game we played as kids, Oregon Trail.  Do we take the ferry, caulk the wagon and float it across, or do we ford the river?  If we chose the wrong thing, we would lose the children and half of our supplies!  We found no ferries but often took the other two options.

The only casualties were pruned toes later in the day.  Personally, I enjoy taking my shoes off and fording the river.  The water was cold and comforts the achy spots on my feet.  When I reached the other side, I carefully dried my feet and they suddenly became thankful to return to the warm wool socks and hiking boots. 

The previous day's storms had passed and we were reluctant to remove our rain gear.  Eventually the temperature warmed up enough that I roasted beneath my coat and I removed a few layers.  After walking several miles, I realized this was the first time I wore shorts on a beach in California.  Erase all visions of sunny, sandy, warm beaches floating in your mind.  This isn't southern California....but it is more beautiful, more isolated.

After the first two miles of our day, we spotted houses perched on hills down the coast.  We spent much of the morning convinced that the small resort town of Shelter Cove was actually a mirage.  It never seemed to get any closer.

Compared to previous days, these beaches were flat and moderately firm walking.  We made excellent time.  By noon, we were just two miles from town.  Tucking ourselves behind a few tall rocks, we stopped for an extended lunch break while we watched the waves crashing forcefully on the beach.  It is always difficult to tell whether Joel enjoys the adventures we take him on.  He doesn't complain, yet he doesn't openly say he's having fun either.  Then he asked if this trail was part of the Pacific Crest Trail.  "I think I want to backpack some of that sometime," he said.  Suddenly, he sounded like I do when I'm having a great time, I plan my next adventure.  Mission accomplished.

When we reached the parking area at Black Sands Beach, we moved to road and hiked the steepest hill of our entire trip, a 600 ft. climb on a paved road leading into town.  Joel bent over with his arms tucked to his chest.  "When I'm climbing a big hill, I pretend I'm a T-rex," he said bearing his teeth, "it makes things easier."  We all followed suit, laughing and growling as we worked our way uphill.  I'll have to remember that trick for later, haha.

By 3pm, we had reached the Focus and she took us out for some well-deserved ice cream.  On a recommendation, we decided to spend the night at Inn of the Lost Coast, a hotel perched above one of those cliffs we'd been seeing all day long.  Every room had a view.  The view from the hot tub was incredible.  I would enjoy a weekend trip here just to sit in the hot tub all day, wouldn't you?

Our drive back on Wednesday included another stop to hike in the Redwoods.  Then we dropped our exhausted friends at the airport.  That's what 30 miles of hiking (27 with loaded packs on soft sand) and some running will do to anybody over the course of five days.  On the tails of my last pre-taper running week, I was pretty wrecked too.

Thanks for a great visit, Kim and Joel.  Hopefully we'll be able to make a trip on the PCT together soon.

 

How do you like to cross streams that are too high for your shoes: get your shoes wet or take them off?  

When I trail run, I leave them on, but on a multi-day trip with Goretex boots that don't drain, I always take them off if I think water will flood over the top.