Race report: Baystate Marathon 2017

I've never actually hit the wall in a marathon. Never even had the chance. I always cramp before I ever get to that point, and always in the same place, the vastus medialis part of the quads. After my last marathon disappointment, I headed to the physiotherapist who said in no uncertain terms: work on glute strength.

Well, three years later, here we are and I've just done marathon #7, the Baystate Marathon in Lowell. How did it go? Read on...

Training

If you've been playing along for a while, you know I spent 7 years in journalism. Daily news reporting is sort of a non-schedule: news happens at any hour of the day or night. There was lots of shift work, and lots of 12-to-14-hour days during crises. I loved it, but it was kind of all-consuming. The point is, training through years of being a journalist, even before kids, was excellent training for fitting in the training around major stresses.

So when the husband's month-long work trip was rescheduled from November to September-October, I managed to deal. Just barely. I ran with the stroller. I ran at midday when it was 85 degrees out, in full sun. I had a neighbour babysit on Thursdays after D went to bed, and did the second half of my long run on a weeknight on the treadmill. In the end, my mileage for this training cycle totalled something like 640 miles over 18 weeks, not including the marathon: nothing spectacular, but a slow and steady drip drip of consistent work.

A note about time

The backstory: Back in 2014, I ran my 6th marathon at Gold Coast in Australia. While it was a gorgeous day out, marathon #6 was a crushing disappointment for me, due to debilitating cramps and likely under-training and under-fueling. Yes, it was a PR; but a PR by a single, hard-fought second, and way closer to the 5-hour mark than I wanted to be, or that all the race equivalency calculators said I 'ought' to be. In the three years since, I'd convinced myself that my inner 'turtle girl' was right - that I have no real business running marathons... but the itch to do so was still there.

When you have absolutely nothing to lose, you let go and become a master of total non-attachment. I let go completely of any marathon time goals. My process goal for Baystate was to train properly, stick to my race strategy, and see how it went. I even outsourced my training plan - I asked Coach Nicole from Community Running to write me a plan for a small extra fee, and we'd check in with a phone call every so often.

Somewhere along the line I said to her, "I know exactly how I want to feel during the race. You know the middle miles of a half marathon? With the sun shining and the wind in your hair, and you're flying along, feeling the earth return to you all the energy you put into it with every step? THAT is how I want to feel." And I believed it with every fibre of my being, and I knew that it was true.

I'd trained using a goal pace of 9:05, which roughly dictated my tempo and speed efforts, but by the time race week rolled around, I was so burned out from work and solo parenting that I honestly no longer cared if that was race day pace or not. (See: no time goals.) Plus, I tend to be on the slower side of race calculator predictions the longer the distance gets, even if conditions are perfect. Perhaps I'm just too chicken to race a hard half or full marathon. That's fine. I'll get there.

But not Sunday. I had every intention of finishing, and no intention of pushing hard.

Before the race

I drove up with my friend T, who was doing her first marathon, and we checked in to the Radisson in Chelmsford around 3pm Saturday before hitting up the expo at the same hotel. I'm not an expo-lingerer unless I spot an amazing deal on consumables I already use (gels, socks, etc). We wandered around for a bit, did our nails back in the hotel room, and headed out to dinner at Scola's Italian in Dracut. The portion sizes were so big, I had enough linguine + meatballs left for myself, husband and child the day after! Ahhh, America. We fell asleep around 9pm.

At 5am, T's alarm went off. I'm so used to waking at all hours and getting very little sleep that a 5am wakeup call was fine by me. Morning routine, totally practiced and utilitarian after weeks of 5.30am long runs. Instant oatmeal, coffee, nuun, wash face, visit bathroom, get dressed. Bodyglide, bra, tank top, shorts, socks, shoes, Garmin. Decided to run without visor, gloves, arm sleeves, or water bottle. 6:15 shuttle bus to the start. Drop off bags. Run into friends, take selfie, head in to UMass's Tsongas Center to wait, pee, eat a Luna bar. I felt - loose. Preternaturally calm. Totally zen.

By 7.45, it was already warm enough that I wasn't shivering in the start corral - so, a little warmer than ideal. So what? That's not something I can control. Plus no sleeves or gloves or bottle to weigh me down. I planned to start with 9:30s and hold that pace throughout. Anthem.  Pushrim start. And then we began.

Zen habits

Miles 1-5. 10:20, 9:21, 9:16, 9:32, 9:40.  Gel at mile 5. My plan was to take a gel every 5 miles and water at every water stop (about every 2 miles).

I started somewhere around the 10min/mile section of corral, and took the start very easy (10:20, mile 1). I chatted with people, including a woman doing her first marathon, and then had to pick my jaw up off the floor when we ran by her family and FIVE kids - the youngest were 5-year-old twins, I think. (Spoiler: she finished with me.)

I saw my fan club (Mr. GCA and D-money) who had driven up from Boston that morning and strategically situated themselves up the road from a giant playground. After I saw them the first time...well, what do you do with a toddler while mom runs a fall marathon? You go pumpkin picking, apparently. Now we have two enormous pumpkins and a toddler who has learned the word 'wheelbarrow' and uses it enthusiastically.

Miles 6-10. 9:29, 9:16, 9:37, 9:28, 9:28. Gel at mile 10.

Fall colours on full display. The course wound through mostly residential neighbourhoods until we got to the part along the river, heading northeast towards the Tyngsboro Bridge. At mile 8 I saw a teammate - hooray! - who shot the single happiest photo I've ever seen of myself during a marathon. It's pretty easy to be happy at mile 8.

photo credit: Tommy M. 

Miles 11-15. 9:38, 9:25, 9:53, 9:28, 9:38. Gel at mile 15. Surprise! Got the single salted watermelon gel I'd packed in my SPIbelt amid all the sea salt chocolate GUs I'd bought in bulk. It was a very tasty game of roulette.

I sang "Top of the World" to myself over and over in the exposed middle miles, and meant it.

Somethin' in the wind has learned my name
And it's tellin' me that things are not the same
In the leaves on the trees and the touch of the breeze
There's a pleasin' sense of happiness for me

I'm on the top of the world lookin' down on creation
And the only explanation I can find
Is the love that I've found ever since you've been around
Your love's put me at the top of the world

Why is nobody else running the tangents? People are weird. (For the record, I finished with 26.2 on my Garmin, and I think this is actually just really good tangent-running rather than a short course.)
Roadkill: Only two dead animals this year! The 'highlight' of last year's half was a flattened raccoon.
Slow and steady. If I'm Turtle Girl, I'm going to own it.

Miles 16-20. 9:48, 9:30, 10:04, 9:59, 9:53. Gel at mile 20.

I still felt good, like I was merely on an extended long run, but the lengthy exposed stretch around mile 18 was starting to get hot. I knew that I could certainly make it to mile 20, as I'd done on my long runs, and then I could re-evaluate how I felt beyond that.

To distract myself, I chatted with a senior gentleman. At my pace, there are always senior gentlemen, the sort of crusty gent who's been running for decades and is now basically enjoying life. This one told me war stories of marathons past, talked about running Baystate in its early days, and BQ'ed by finishing a few minutes ahead of me. When we got to mile 20, I said, this is the fun part now, isn't it?

Miles 21-23. 10:21, 10:16, 10:41.

I could feel my quads starting to protest, and gritted my teeth at mile 23 as the protest crescendoed into a full-blown revolt. It was warm now, and I knew from last year that the final miles were in direct sunshine. At each of the last few water stops I downed a full cup of Gatorade, which helped stave off the cramps for a minute or two each time.

Miles 24-26.2. 10:56, 10:39, 11:21, 9:37 pace for final 0.2.

With my quads cramping hard as usual, I was in no mood to walk and take a gel at mile 25 - I just wanted to keep shuffling on into the finish. Shuffle, shuffle. One foot in front of the other. All I had to do was not stop and I could be proud of my effort.

I didn't stop. 4:19:38.

The end

You guys. YOU GUYS. That is nearly 35 minutes off my last marathon time. The cramps didn't kick in till Mile 23, much later than usual, which I think is testament to being (mostly) properly trained and being pretty conservative. (A 22-miler next time, perhaps? Step-mill for cross-training? And some real lifting instead of just myrtls?)

I think what I'm happiest about here is that I finally feel like I'm beginning to run the marathon to my potential, my fitness and my training. I managed to stick with the race plan until the cramps really started in earnest. That decision to try and hold 9:30s, or rather a comfortable sort of just-a-little-faster-than-long-run pace, instead of pushing any harder, was the right one. I enjoyed the whole darn thing. Even the crampy bits.

Maybe one day I'll race a marathon - go out at a harder effort, endure discomfort for more of the marathon, see where it gets me. Right now? I'm satisfied with this.

A special message for Turtle Girl

*sings* I'm gonna get that turtle right off of my back -- BYE, FELICIA. It's been a long, strange trip from that 6+ hour marathon to this point. (Apparently when I PR, I go big or go home?) I am not a frequent racer, let alone of marathons, so each one is a bit of a milestone.

December 2009 - 6:18 - my first marathon. No idea what to expect. There was cramping. And walking. A lot of walking. 

December 2010 - 6:30 - total disaster, GI distress, threw up, never did eat or drink enough. Weirdly enough, caught up with friend who was also having stomach trouble, and we walked to the finish together.

March 2011 - 5:15 (Tokyo. -63 minutes) I don't recall the circumstances in which I signed up, because you had to enter the lottery well before December 2010, so I was somehow hoping to run two marathons ~3+ months apart...?? I'm not even sure what I was thinking. I think Tokyo was supposed to be some sort of casual vacation-run.

(Took a long break here to delve into the wacky world of triathlons)

December 2012 - 5:19:54 - another Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon

August 2013 - 4:54:18 (-20 minutes at Perth)

July 2014 - 4:54:17 (-1 second at Gold Coast)

(Had D-money in 2015. 2016-17: ran 5 half marathons; 4 were race efforts; 3 were under 2h, so, you know, pretty reliable.)

October 2017 - 4:19:38 (-35 minutes)

I'll bask in the glow for about a week. Where are my cape and tiara? Thank you, thank you. Then I'll recognise that this is equal parts valid and addle-pated, and then buckle down and start thinking about my next adventures in hobby jogging.

Thanks must go to:

1. Husband, for taking the toddler during all of those weekend long runs and freeing me up to go do stupid sh*t like run 3.3 miles on the treadmill on Sunday afternoon so I'd hit exactly 50 miles for the week. Even when he abandoned us to do a month of fieldwork, he batch-cooked like two weeks' worth of meals beforehand. You're the best. Love you!  
2. Community Running. Somehow track workouts are more fun in a giant group, even if you are generally DFL in the marathon group.
3. And especially Coach Nicole. I asked her to write me a plan - essentially outsourcing all my planning and worrying, since I have quite enough to worry about. She did all the worrying for me, and then some. I'm pretty sure I gave her a heart attack a bunch of times during this training cycle.  
4. Baystate organisers and the city of Lowell for putting on a good show. Did I mention the water and Gatorade at every stop were COLD? Also, people of the Merrimack Valley, you guys are A+ spectators, y'all.

Race logistics

Marathon finishers: 1,332. There's also a popular half marathon option, where I got my PR last year and sliced 10 minutes off my previous half time.
Course: Two loops - one big loop and one small one (if that makes any sense). Mostly flat, one uphill at the start, mini rollers. GORGEOUS fall scenery along the river. Somewhat exposed around miles 8-11, 18-21. The route is narrow in parts (down to half a lane or just a road shoulder), but the field is small enough that it's not a concern.
Start time: 8am (you get to wait inside the Tsongas Center at UMass till about 20 minutes before the start, so don't worry about packing a throwaway shirt unless it's freeeeezing)
Parking: $5 flat / day parking at 3 designated garages, free street parking throughout the city of Lowell on race day.
Transport: For the second year running, the organisers offered shuttles from the race hotels, both to and from the race. <- huge perk!
Course support: Fluid stops every ~2 miles. Both water and lemon-lime Gatorade supplied by perky, adorable high-school cross-country teams at each stop. GU gels at miles 7 and 17.
Swag: Long-sleeved gender-specific tech tee with thumb holes, hefty finisher medal with moving parts
Post-race food: Cape Cod potato chips, PB&J sandwiches, bananas, and 3 different kinds of soup - chicken noodle, minestrone, and vegetable
Photos: Free (!), by Capstone Photography

Same old gory details: Gold Coast Airport Marathon 2014

I'm going to warn you upfront: you will have heard this story from me before. It's like a horror movie where you know exactly who jumps out of the bushes and who dies at the end. Same old story. It's going to be a little repetitive. But you can read it anyway.

If you recall I had a nice little race strategy all planned out:
- Absolutely no faster than 6:22/km for the first half
- Shot blocks every 5km; electrolyte tab and a minute's walk break every 10km
- I am allowed to run-walk if I cramp - I will probably cramp... (OBVIOUS FORESHADOWING, I COULD BE A SCRIPTWRITER NOW)

On Friday morning Holly got into Gold Coast and we ran about 2.5km to the Broadbeach convention centre for bib pickup, stood in line for five minutes, picked up bib, wound our way through the usual assortment of watches/gear/ads for other athletic activities

This watch is telling me it's 'exercise day'. What, you mean like every day except Wednesday? 

and popped out the other side...

...just in time for a Friday afternoon coffee with Char, who was in town for her 10th Gold Coast 10K in a row. We'd never met in person before but when you share your lives on the Internet it can feel like you've known someone for a very long time.

Photo credit: Holly and her long arms

I was suitably impressed, by the way. I haven't lived in one place long enough to do 10 of any race in a row.

And it was incredibly sweet of her to bring us (cup)cakes despite having had a rough week - thank you!
Here are the ruins of one of the cupcakes. Didn't pause long enough to take photos. Rest assured they were very pretty. And delicious.

On Saturday morning we went to watch the 10K and get the lay of the land at the race precinct, and then went on a whale-watching cruise. Humpback whales come up the Australian coast from Antarctica in winter to calve and mate, and we saw several pairs.

I was not fast enough to catch a photo of a whale.
Fortunately, clouds don't move as fast as humpback whales, so I got a nice picture of one shaped like a boxfish. 

That afternoon, three more friends got into town. Holly, Mel and Sarah were doing the half; Boya and I would do the full, and it was Boya's first full marathon. (You never forget your first...though sometimes you'd like to, especially around the 30k mark!)

Sunday morning was race day, involving a 4am wakeup for the half marathoners and a 4.45am wakeup call for the two of us full marathoners. Race organisers had provided shuttle buses to the start and the early ones were apparently very crowded with long queues (said Holly). But by 5.30am they were fine and we hopped on the first bus that arrived, for a 15-minute bus ride to the start.

That sunrise. I was pretty chilly, but I really can't complain.

but first, let me take a selfie...

We shuffled our way into the last corral. I had picked up a 4:30 pace band at the expo but was so far back, and so relaxed about the whole affair, that I never even really saw the 4:30 pace group. I had no time goals for this race except 'maybe finish under 5 hours again?'

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there was really no excuse not to high-five all the little kids, including a small girl in unicorn footy pyjamas.

And this view. I could have high-fived this view. 

Along the beach there was a guy in what I can only presume were very small and possibly hideous swimming trunks, holding a large and alarming sign in front of them: 'Run faster or I drop this sign'. And around a corner, there was a nine-year-old boy holding a sign that could really only have been composed by a nine-year-old boy: 'Run faster, I just farted'.

The course wound its way south for 15km, then turned around and continued north for another 15km along roughly the same stretch we'd come down. I obediently chugged on at 4:30 pace, stuck to the fuelling plan, and went on feeling pretty good. Ominously good. I knew I'd maybe be a little sore by the end, but experience tells me there is a big difference between sore and damaged, and I was not going to be damaged.

And then, going uphill around 31km, disaster struck. (DUN DUN DUN.)
It was a totally predictable, very familiar sort of disaster. With a terrible sense of deja vu, I felt my right vastus medialis muscle, the lower part of my inner quad near the knee, go TWANGGGGG and seize up in a spasm so powerful I nearly screeched. And then my left one. For probably three or four minutes, I stood there, clutching the centre rail, trying to stretch. I'd stretch one leg and the other side would clench; I'd stretch the other and the first one would fire off - TWANGGG. And again (twanggg). And again (TWANGGG). And again (ARGGGH COME ON STUPID LEGS WHY WON'T YOU COOPERATE).

And that's why my splits look like this:

'30 to 35km: 42 minutes 16 seconds'. Not stated: 'Five of those minutes were spent stretching and screaming invective at the sky in front of hundreds of spectators'. Yes, my quads had chosen the start/finish point to seize up. 

When I finally started hobbling on again, my crazy sport-psychologist bike-crash-survivor long-distance-triathlete friend popped into my head. 'What would Kirsten do?' The answer turned out to be 'relax and focus on the process'. The process turned out to be:
- Drink more water.
- Take another salt tab.
- Run six minutes. Cramps? Walk one minute. No cramps? Run another six minutes and check in with your body and make sure you're running tall, loose, and tilted slightly forward. Rinse and repeat. You know perfectly well you can do this because you've done this a dozen times before.

The remaining 10km became a sort of death-march shuffle, a delicate exercise in warding off cramps, at exactly the tipping-point speed between bobbling along and debilitating spasms. God, but I loathe my treacherous quads. (When other women say they hate their thighs they usually mean something different.)  I have cramped in exactly the same muscles for five marathons now. Also one sprint triathlon. And very probably one hot-weather OD triathlon in September. Do they do muscle replacements?

So at this point I had plenty of time to pay attention to the signs and road signs along the rest of the course.

Along a narrow bend there was DO NOT OVERTAKE. (I followed instructions.)

A spectator held one that said WORST PARADE EVER. (I kind of agreed.)

I counted down shot blocks to the finish. (30, 35, 40... just three more! 35, 40...just two more! 40k...last shot block! As I finished chewing the last one I realised I had only one mile left but I was proto-spasming too hard to run for it.)

Hence the hunched-over, paroxysms-of-agony marathon shuffle in this photo at 41k:

Photo credit: Char

In the end, I PRed by one crucial but deeply unsatisfying second: 4:54:17, down from 4:54:18 in Perth. I know I said I was going to chip away at my PR but seriously this is ridiculous! Is there even an upside to this? Yeah, well, I guess I now know a sub-5 marathon isn't a fluke.

Temperature-wise, while the temperature hovered between 12 (at the start) and perhaps 20C (at high noon), much of the course was in full sun and I ended up feeling like a salt-baked chicken by the end. I was wearing shorts, compression socks, a tank top and arm sleeves and thus have some interesting tan lines...

Ten minutes after I finished I had already snacked, cleaned up, stretched, and was lying on a bench with my legs up in the air texting the husband when Holly and Mel found me. Normally after a marathon or even a long run I'm passed out by mid-afternoon, but on Sunday afternoon I was still bouncy. We waited for Boya to finish, scraped her off the ground, and then headed back to the apartment for a shower and some hot-tub time, already plotting where to have dinner. (Priorities.) (Indian food followed by churros, bitches. I finally passed out into microsleep mid-churro.)

But really? Do all my marathons have to go the same way? It's like a bad movie script. In the last 10k and in the few minutes after I finished, I probably went through all five stages of grief that I was taken out by something so utterly stupid. Yes, all five at the same time.

Denial - This isn't happening. This isn't happening. Maybe if I ignore it it'll go away.
Anger - UGH WHY did I decide to do this STUPID thing to myself? !$(*(&# marathons.
Bargaining - C'mon legs. You can do this. Just six more minutes of running and then you can walk.
Depression - I'm never going to not cramp in a marathon. I should just give up now.
Acceptance - FINE. THERE. I'm DONE.

Right now I'm just kind of meh about the whole thing. In general I really did enjoy it. The race was well-organised and well-supplied with bananas and oranges and water, and man, did those volunteers and spectators know what they were about. The breeze! The sun! The views! The signs!

If I had no real time goals, why am I so mad? Well, I'm disappointed because the whole thing was so predictable. Frustrated because I know I'm aerobically, at least, capable of much, much more. In the final 10 km or so post-spasms I felt like I was shuffling along solely to ward off cramps. If not for the cramps I would've literally been bounding happily along, I had that much energy left over. I'm deeply annoyed that I never even got the CHANCE to hit the wall. Look, I HAVE a 4:30 in me. (Well-hidden.) Just that my legs seem to disagree...

Should I try something new? A different challenge? I refuse to even dream of doing an ultra until I've got this marathon-cramp thing sorted out. An OD tri, maybe. But let's face it, I tri purely for amusement and running is where my heart is.

So in future, what are my options, really?

a) Maybe it was hot and the perfect fuelling strategy was short of perfect, and maybe I could have taken in more Endurolytes and water. Endurolytes do have more magnesium than other brands but perhaps a dedicated magnesium supplement might help.

b) Maybe I'm just destined to cramp, so instead of cramp prevention my race strategy should be cramp anticipation. The cramps seem to show up no matter what I wear or how I fuel or how slowly I go at the beginning or however cool/ flat the marathon is, so perhaps I should just run very fast for 32km and hobble 10km? This will make me a very good half marathoner...and make for a pretty unhappy marathon experience.

c) What about doing faster/ longer training runs? What if I ran a marathon as my long training run for a marathon? (The most likely outcome would be 'here you go, two sets of cramps'.)

d) Is it something about my gait? Should I bother investing in a gait analysis that costs more than a marathon entry, just in case that's the problem? I'm not exactly going to win any medals anyway and I'm not fast enough to be worth it. I'm just a back-of-the-pack hobby jogger who runs because I happen to really really like running.

e) Or maybe I should stop trying to run marathons and just retire from this full-marathon shtick altogether, because I am flipping tired of writing the same race report over and over. 'Felt good for 30+km, then cramps, then long cramp-prevention shuffle'. I'm fed up and bored of it. Help me out - I know you are too.

Ultra volunteering, tri spectating

A couple of weeks ago I volunteered at the Twilight Ultra Challenge organised by the Running Guild.

If you remember this was on my list of 2014 Things To Do. I'd never volunteered at a race before, but I picked Running Guild because I LOVE their small community-focused events - those events are really well-organised, by runners for runners, and they really do know what runners need. At Twilight, most of the volunteers were high school kids who needed to get community service hours, but quite a number were runners themselves.

So, I signed up back in January, and we got our briefing packets through email. I was assigned to the 'special needs table' - if you're not familiar with ultras, those that come in the form of multiple laps typically have a spot where you can drop off stuff you might need over the course of the race, but that you don't want to carry with you. People stash food, extra gels, a spare shirt, phone chargers, and in the case of one runner, an entire set of shower stuff so she could take a shower and change mid-run! (It worked - she ran 100km...) Another runner had a pack of cigarettes and would go for a smoke every lap or two (!...) . Another one chatted on the phone with a series of friends overseas nearly the whole time.

For the first hour or two we were super busy just taking in people's drop bags and labelling them with masking tape and marker pens (should just get sticky labels next year - save on masking tape).

At 7pm the runners were off! The race course consisted of a 10km loop, with a main aid station in the middle and one at each end. Race format was as many 10km loops as you could run in 16 hours (!!!).

We spent another half hour arranging the special needs bags by runner bib number. For the first couple of hours, as people came in, we directed them to their bags; by about 11pm most people had a pretty good idea of where their stuff was. I feel like I could have been redirected to labour-intensive stations that really did need more volunteers, like the food station (they were kept busy boiling hot water for coffee, cooking hotdogs, slicing watermelon, and making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all night).

At 1am I took a tiny nap because we weren't needed that much, then alternated between directing people to their bags and handing out gummi bears and biscuits. At 4am I took a slightly longer nap (it was supposed to be half an hour but it inadvertently turned into an hour and a half, oops).

Runners sprawled all over the place - about 3am

And then, sunrise!

As the morning wore on, the special needs table team took turns manning the spray bottle to spritz runners with ice cold water - by about 8am, they really, really needed it.

Photo credit - Dave of PictureArt

Finally, at 11am, the ultra was over. The eventual winner ran 145km. In 16 hours. Let's just say that's faster than my long-run pace.

The medals are the size of your face, just in case you need bragging rights.

A few of the volunteers. Photo credit - Ben Swee (race director!)

I don't feel any urge to do an ultra in the near future, but if I did, it would be with these guys. And would I volunteer for another Running Guild race again? You betcha.

---
Gold Coast training log, week 6 - April 7 to 13 

Monday - 6km to gym, yoga

Tuesday - 16x400 leaving every 2:30 - this was a tolerance set, so 400s at moderate pace, about 2:00.

Wednesday - a true rest day

Thursday - AM: tempo - 1.2km warmup, 7km at 6:00/km, 2km cooldown. PM - 5km easy with coworkers after work near the office, chatting all the way.

Friday - 'GRIT strength' class at the gym -- half an hour of high intensity interval strength workout that is way tougher than it sounds + 1.2km cooldown. All I can say about this one is, burpees are the exercise from hell and no one should ever do them. It's Sunday night and I'm still sore.

Saturday - 10.3km to and around the Botanic Gardens

Sunday - 25km from downtown to Changi Beach for more tri spectating. Once you get on that Changi park connector, you really have to commit because it's the middle of nowhere and there is no turning back. I ran a little bit longer than expected because I suck at estimating distances - I'd thought it was 21k from downtown to my destination. Also, one of my water stops was simply not open at 8.30am when I got there, so I arrived at the end point ABSOLUTELY STARVING and Shirlene had to feed me a Snickers bar to stop me from tipping over.

Shirlene and I are rapidly becoming Super Tri Spectators. This morning we chalked up some more tri spectating points by cheering our heads off at the Metasprint sprint-distance tri at Changi Beach Park. Her husband and his friend were racing each other - I mean, they were racing, but the actual race doesn't matter as long as Eugene beats Aylwin. Or vice versa. You know. Boys.

Total: 64.5km + yoga + GRIT + tri spectating

The Great Hansons Marathon Experiment, Round 2: Here we go again

After several weeks of dithering, I've picked this year's marathon: the Gold Coast Airport Marathon.

Based on what I can do for a half marathon, I'm shooting for 4:30* and those are the paces I'm training at, but given the unpredictability of my work schedule and my long history with muscle cramps, let's see how it goes!

*an almost entirely arbitrary number; I might as well pick a perfect square, or a prime number, or no number. At some point I will have a Conversation with Coach Shem about choosing a marathon goal. Hopefully sooner rather than later. It kind of dictates what paces I train at.

One of my mini goals this time around is to be able to finish strong, happy, and cramp-free. (Please, running gods? Can I have just one marathon without cramping? Internet, can you find me salt tabs I won't throw up?) In Perth, things were all right all the way until the last 5km, when the cramps hit and I had to sit down and wail for a while. I think the secret is more tempo runs. Long ones. Long, painful ones.

Gold Coast training, week 4 (March 24-30): 

Monday - 5km easy and yoga. Or rather, because I woke up late, yoga followed by half an hour on the treadmill to undo all the nice stretching that yoga did for my legs.

Tuesday - speedwork. 7x800 on the track - did a few of them at 4:00 with 30s rest, and a few of them at 3:45 with 2 minutes' rest. Very, very confused.

Wednesday - off

Thursday - 9.5km tempo run at roughly 6:08/km (a little bit faster than marathon goal pace - this is good)

Friday - 8km easy + strength work

Saturday - 18km to and around Macritchie Reservoir; met friends near the visitor centre and carried on around the reservoir with them

Saturday to Sunday - ultramarathon volunteering at the Twilight Ultra Challenge

Sunday - lots of sleep and 4.5km Running of the Errands

Total: 50.6km + yoga + strength training

The Effect of Hansons Marathon Training on a Marathon PR: A Perth Chevron City to Surf marathon race recap

I did say some time ago that this marathon was going to be an experiment. So here you go...

Abstract: This case study is of a female subject, aged 28, running her fourth marathon in four years. Using the Hansons Marathon training method, subject successfully attained her goal time of under 5 hours, produced a 20-minute PR, AND had fun most of the way except for quad cramps as usual right near the end.

Introduction: This is a one-subject case study. You know me. I know you (if I don't, please leave a comment to say hi!) Let's skip the introduction. You can read the rest of the blog.

Race faces - it was go time at 5am! I'm on the right; on the left is Holly whom I talked into doing the marathon as well. SHE had a VERY good run. Read all about it. Photo courtesy of Holly. 

Methods:
- Training:
Starting in April, I began using a variant of the Hansons Marathon training plan (I didn't get the book until about a month ago - READ THE BOOK if you intend to use it). Its most important principle is probably cumulative fatigue: you run six days a week with a speed day, a tempo day, a longer run day (up to 25km), and three easy days. This is to simulate the LAST 25km of a marathon, not the first. Rest between your speed day and your tempo day.
I was able to stick to the training plan, give or take a few km, for the first 10 weeks or so; thereafter, work commitments, illness and slight injuries meant a week of lower (40km) mileage every couple of weeks.

- Other stuff
Nail polish (blue, the usual; assume colour does not affect aerodynamicity and fingernail aerodynamicity does not affect overall speed)

Immediate pre-race inputs: Dinner - pizza, turkish bread with dips and caprese salad. (Photo from Holly.)

Breakfast - coffee and Orgran's Buckwheat Os. The cereal was much like Cheerios but, well, made from gluten-free buckwheat - since I have no gluten sensitivity this was not a concern. These were a brand new (to me) cereal that we'd been eating for the past few days with no ill effects, and since I sometimes have cereal before a race I figured this would do just fine.

During-race inputs:
Hydration - Nuun in the waterbottle, refilled twice with water
Fuel - One pack Clif blocks in 'margarita' flavour from 6-21km; half a chocolate Honey Stinger gel from 28-30km, gave up because too sweet; one chocolate Honey Stinger gel from 37-40km because of hunger pangs.

Garments: Race-day weather was uncertain (rain? yes? no? how much?); the temperature was a balmy 12 to 19 degrees C throughout the marathon - really optimal running weather for me (i have been known to winter hike in New Hampshire winter in a t-shirt). I wore a wind jacket and cotton arm sleeves to the convention centre start, discovered I was warm by the time we got to the start point 1km from the hotel, and took the gamble to leave arm sleeves in clothing bag. Cap, capris and tank top ended up working out just fine and were a great departure from the usual What Not To Wear disasters.

Results: 
I maintained a fairly even pace till the 30km mark, crossing 10km just over an hour, 21km in 2:12 (very nearly pulled off a new half-marathon PR, which should NOT be the case during a marathon), and 30km around 3:30. (There were two fairly big hills between 22 and 30km and much of that portion was upslope.)

Between 6km and 12km I crossed paths with an older gentleman who had lived in Perth for 44 years ("I came on vacation 44 years ago and never left. Been to Singapore plenty of times") who was running his 38th marathon with bells on. Literally - he had them in his hand. Out of curiosity I asked him what time he planned to come in. Five hours, he said to my slight horror (while he was good company, I was not about to listen to jingle bells for 36 more kilometres this far short of Christmas). I ran away. (Later edit: he did remind me to run the tangents. "Cut the corners," he said. "Good girl.")

There were some GREAT views of the Swan River, first as we ran along it, then from the top of a hill in King's Park botanical gardens. Sadly, I never got to see the surf at the beach where the race ended - was just too sore to walk around a whole lot. Also, there was a big ol' downhill right after the finish line, which was quite enough for me.

On-the-run funnies included three cyclists with signs at the top of a hill: "BIKE FOR SALE", "EPO UP AHEAD" - "Do you offer rides?" I said.

Official results and race splits aren't in yet, but I felt like I began to slow down around the 32km mark and cramped at 36km - to the point I had to squat down and stretch out my thighs. I walked about half a km, crunched half a Nuun tablet, drank some water, and kept on going. (At that point I had about an hour left to get in under 5.)

There were not one but TWO hills from 38km, right before the finish. Fine, I understand, this is natural terrain and not the bridges that race organisers in Singapore keep saddling us with.

Oh yeah, and I came in at about 4:53 (race clock minus the extra minute it took to cross the start line). This was a >20-minute PR from my last one, and I'd very much wanted a sub-5-hour marathon too. Winning!

Edit: Official net time was 4:54:18, with the following splits (really just for my own info):
10K - 1:00:08
20K - 2:05:05 (1:04:56)
30K - 3:15:13 (1:10:08) <-- big hills here
40K - 4:35:11 (1:19:58) <-- cramps AND hills here, always a fun combination
Finish: 4:54:18

Discussion:
Would I use the Hansons method again? Yes, it seemed to work. It seems as though there are plenty of believers, too. (Jeano!) I managed to hit and stay at higher mileage, fairly consistently, than in previous training cycles where I topped out at 55+km. Thanks to the increased mileage, I'm in better shape than I was during my previous PR (5:15 at Tokyo in 2011). And I'm now used to running six days a week.

It probably worked for me because I have so much room to improve (my marathons over the years have been 6 hours, two in the low 5s, and now this.) I'm not sure cumulative fatigue and higher mileage alone would work as well for someone who's pushing PRs of a few minutes each time. That one will take speedwork and mental mettle.

Mentally, this was the easiest marathon I have ever done, as the weather was so pleasant. For the last 6km, the motivation was very simple: I knew there were hills, I knew I would cramp, I came prepared for battle.  I simply wanted that sub-5 way, way more than I minded the pain. In all I might have walked a total of 1 or 2 km - at no point did I think 'I want to throw in the towel', it was more like 'well if you want it you're going to have to fight for it'!

Why was I injured in training? That's a mystery but there are a few possible reasons: Hansons does not specifically include strengthening/ agility exercises or a stretching regimen, which I started doing quite late and which often fell by the wayside due to work; I'm also extremely flexible and somewhat injury-prone. I'd definitely recommend doing some strength exercises and much stretching/ foam-rolling in any marathon plan.

Why in the two blue hells do I still keep cramping?
I have very nasty and well-documented problems with leg cramps. The nice physiotherapy student who gave me my post-marathon massage said the crampy muscle was, very specifically, the vastus medialis. That's the lower bit that goes from the inner knee midway up the thigh. I'm glad it held off till 36km, the longest I've gone in a marathon without cramping. Thanks, weather.
I did a couple of things that probably helped: sugarless electrolyte drink and Clif margarita shot blocks with electrolytes from the beginning, and Nuun-tablet crunching (what? haven't you ever had Pop Rocks?) and lots of water the moment the cramping began.
But I don't know why the cramps happen at all. Was I dehydrated? Perhaps, but I didn't want to drink more water because I could feel it sloshing around inside me. Why do those muscles cramp and nothing else (calves hamstrings glutes other quad muscles)? If you have any answers, correspondence is by blog comment please.

Would I recommend this race to Singapore runners? YES. At 1500 runners, this was easily the smallest marathon I have ever run. The 'swag' that Singapore runners are used to in their goody bags (daffy knicknacks, snacks, caps, vouchers) is nonexisistent; you are paying for excellent organisation, abundant water and Powerade and Gu, trucks to transport your baggage to the finish line, portapotties, road closures, shuttle buses to get you back to town, and finisher shirt and medal.

The course has a number of hairpin turnarounds to make up 42.2km so don't expect to be too fast. But spectators do line the streets and cheer. This year, the weather was superb. Just make sure you do a great deal of hill training (you have no idea how many times I've run up those @#(%& Botanic Gardens and Rifle Range Road hills in training). And take it easy on the downhills.

Supplementary materials
Link to obsessively checked Perth weather website
Link to City to Surf website. All I could think was 'Chevron is a sponsor? If you win what do you get? Free gas for a year?'

This is a really hard-earned medal, thank you very much. 

Blasts from the past

So I thought I'd treat you to some old photos...

My best marathon, Tokyo 2011 

Unfortunately there's no actual action shot from Tokyo, or if there is I can't remember where I put it. 

I run exactly one marathon per year, which explains the enormous time lag in between these things. My first marathon was in December 2009; my second (which I don't even count as a marathon because it was an enormous mess) was in December 2010; my third was in February 2011. Between 2011 and 2012 I decided to enter the fun-and-pain-filled world of triathlons, so my last marathon was in December 2012. 

For Tokyo, my goals were

- finish

- finish without injury

- finish under 6 hours

From 0-4km: We were very early, so we stood around in our respective holding pens freezing our butts off. But the weather was absolutely perfect for running - 10 degrees C and sunny and warming up. 

At precisely 9.10am the horn went off; so did fireworks..it was mildly confusing for a few minutes. We started walking forward and it took me about 15 minutes to reach the start line. After 4km, my rain jacket came off and went around my waist.

In a long and honourable tradition of wearing completely the wrong thing for races, I wore: thin running gloves, a sports bra, a long-sleeved polypro shirt, a rain jacket, thermal tights because I did not own any full-length running tights and do not now, shorts, running socks, and sneakers. I bet you're REALLY sad there are no photos. 

From 4km-25km: i had planned to take little walk breaks every 5km, but just felt so good I kept right on running. If I had kept up this very, very even pace, I would have made it in under 5 hours. 

A lot of people run Tokyo in costume, and it's around here I was passed by Darth Vader ('may the force be with you'), Michael Jackson, a guy running with a webcam on his head, Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, Keroppi, a Pokemon or two, and oddly enough, the 5:30 pacers. This stretch was pleasant and uneventful, but beginning to slow down a bit from 21km onwards. My nose got sunburnt. 

From about 9km onwards i would think 'Trudy, Trudy, Trudy' to myself and imagined my favourite coach  at the back of the pack on her bike, bearing down on me and yelling nasty things - but this always made me laugh and kept me going. In real life Trudy is a fun and pleasant person COMPLETELY unlikely to yell nasty things at anyone, ever. Which made me laugh harder when I thought about it. Which means those race photos probably feature a ridiculous grin on my face. Bet you're REALLY, REALLY sad there are none. 

21km - at this point I was still on track to finish under 5 hours, which to me was kind of amazing. Tokyoites were lining the streets and cheering everyone on. There was ample water and food from organisers even though we were in the middle/ back of the pack, but even if there hadn't been, people were just handing out chocolate, candy, fried chicken (!), etc. 

30km-36km: leg cramps struck, despite several salt capsules and sports drinks. I started walking a bit ('run until you cramp, walk until you uncramp, rinse and repeat'). at some point I ran out of water and there were no more water points for another km or 2, so I broke my rule about accepting candy from strangers. The Sour Lemon bomb i got from a little old lady was only the best thing I've ever tasted, but other people were handing out things like miso soup, if that's more your...cup of tea. 

Things begin to go downhill from 27+km onward...or more literally, uphill and downhill and uphill... 

36-42km: I did the 'run until you cramp, walk until you uncramp, repeat' thing. While checking splits on my watch, I realised I would go under 5:18 (my previous PB was 6:18) if I could finish the last 6 km in an hour and 15 minutes. I miraculously uncramped 2km from the finish line, and ran for my life ('I want my PB, I want my PB dammit'). got to the finish line, checked my time, broke previous PB by more than an hour (don't think I'll ever do THAT again), cried tears of joy. 

After the marathon I remember waddling back to my hostel and falling asleep for four hours, then going out for dinner (okonomiyaki!) with a couple of friends. I very distinctly remember the restaurant had no elevator. 

My first marathon, December 2009

"What Not To Wear For A Marathon": nylon shorts that became soggy and immediately chafed. No cap on a very hot day. My nose got sunburnt. (See a trend?) Yes, that's the same Nathan handheld bottle strap I used till last year, when I mysteriously lost it after last year's Standard Chartered marathon. 

I'm flying here, but (as usual) cramped and walked along the way. I don't know if that means I could've pushed harder! 

My first half-marathon, December 2008

I look extraordinarily serene, probably because I am running about two km per hour, but still having a much better time of it than the guy behind me. 

What Not To Wear: Do not, under any circumstances, steal your little sister's Nike shorts while she is away at university and wear them for the first time during your very first half-marathon. (If I recall correctly this was due to spectacularly poor laundry planning, and all my non-ratty shorts were in the wash. This was when I was still using the same shorts I'd used in high school.) Because while you are theoretically the same size, you two are also completely different shapes and your thighs will not be happy. 

This was before I discovered the existence of Bodyglide. 

Also before I ever kept a training journal, so I'm afraid I have no idea what to tell those of you who are training for a half-marathon how I did it. I finished in 2:43:31. It's funnier now that I'm trying to bust 2:10. 

---

This morning's 'long' run was terrible and literally a wash. I don't know what I ate last night that did me in, but I had a stomachache when I woke up, felt like throwing up for the first 10K of the run, and when I finally stopped feeling nauseous the skies opened up on me. For the last ten minutes before the downpour it was very breezy though, which was terrific. 

On the bright side, it's only just occurred to me why I like margarita Clif Shot Bloks -- they taste nothing like margaritas and everything like sour plum candy. I bet they're more of a hit in Asia than anywhere else. 

Marathon training: the good, the bad, and the tragic

There are now just four weeks to the Perth City to Surf marathon. HOLLY ARE YOU EXCITED YET?

The good: This is probably my most consistent marathon training cycle to date. Except for a couple of weeks in the middle when I was sick/ injured, most weeks have been in the 60km range and have involved running 6 days a week. Past marathon training cycles have NOT been consistent, 60km and five days a week was somewhat optimistic.

Here's a typical training week from last year, a month before the marathon.
Sunday - 6km easy run
Tuesday - Track: pyramid 200/400/600/800/800/600/400/200 = 4km
Thursday - 4km
Saturday - 25km.
Total: 39km.

And this is my week so far:
Sunday - 10km
Monday - 7km
Tuesday - a couple of strength circuits; track: 4(400 and rest), 1200, 3(300 and active recovery), 1200, cooldown = 5km
Wednesday - 8.4km tempo run (A PROPER tempo - 10.4 to 10.8km/h)
Thursday - AM 5km, PM 10km
Total so far:  45.5km.
That doesn't include tomorrow's workout and I haven't even got to Saturday's long run yet.

I'm more comfortable with a double-digits run midweek now. And doubles. And strength training. And running six days a week (I had a little trouble wrapping my head around that one at first).

Except this morning. I set foot on my usual canal path and the sky poured a bucket of water on me. So I did just 5km of a planned 14.5. It actually crossed my mind that I should've worn my goggles...

this is what comes up when you do an image search for "running in goggles"-i have no idea.

(UPDATE: had a very nice run around Bishan Park this evening - ran from work and back.)

The bad: I think 60km is still too low mileage-wise to make a proper dent in a marathon, but it's what my work schedule can deal with. Just in case you think I have commitment problems - my 5.30am phone alarm says PERTH CITY TO SURF. SUB-5. YOU HAVE TO EARN IT. That usually gets me out of bed... (I mean, you try being a slow-as-molasses runner who works as a daily news journalist and trains for a marathon at the same time, and then let's talk...)

The slightly worse: I added all this up and all of my training takes me roughly ten hours a week. I have no idea where the other 158 hours go.

The it-would-be-funny-if-it-wasn't-so-sad: I think I've gotten SLOWER as a result of longer slower runs. (Ya think?) At Tuesday track this week, I ran the 1200s with a friend who claimed that when he started at track earlier this year he was trying to keep up with me. He might be right, but he is now MUCH faster than I am on sprints. Ouch. And I've been doing my speedwork and strides. That's why I'm genetically challenged...my body goes 'I see your measly hour of speedwork and raise you some turtle pace'.

I'm quite happy to accept that I will never be FAST fast even if I work twice as hard. And I'm not really going to beat myself up about it. Not while I still enjoy running and if it gets me to the finish line of a marathon in healthy-but-genetically-challenged-molasses-goal-time.

Here is possibly the world's best running tank

It's the Under Armour Women's Victory Tank, which wicks like a dream, is hip-length on my hilariously long torso, fits skintight so it doesn't flop around uncomfortably when soggy, and you should probably size down from whatever you usually wear. You're welcome. (I have two and they're XS. Sizing - it basically means nothing these days so just wear whatever fits.)

My friend A. told me about these and she swears by them. Apparently an added bonus is they stretch and still fit if you're pregnant, or so she says. (She is due at the start of August.) Haven't really tried that myself.

I would really, really like to get more, but I don't think I can justify that right now. Uh, so my birthday's in November. Husband? Are you reading this?

Back in the land of the living

Iiiiiii'm back! 

This morning I had my first run in nearly a week, after being out of commission due to
- your everyday garden-variety generic cough/ sore throat/ cold that would not go away
- a wonky knee
- a janky hip

And. It. Was. Fabulous.
I didn't take my phone with me and still, after a decade of running, own no Garmin. But it was about 15km at what should be roughly marathon pace; I quit while the going was good. But it's too soon to celebrate. Let's get another consistent week or two of runs in and then talk.

I do a lot of runs, or sections of runs, on a canal path near my house. If I cross the road to run along the canal further down, and come all the way back to where I started, it's about 10km. The sun was shining, the birds were singing. I felt like singing and skipping down the path but didn't want to inflict that on anyone else. And I was - and this is very important when your run is at 7am in Singapore - in the shade much of the way.

After the 10km canal section I turned out and ran to the Botanic Gardens - another 5km or so. After which I came home, showered, did some work, and went to the Botanic Gardens AGAIN - this time for lunch at Food For Thought  with Mr GCA and a friend. I love FFT - it's down-to-earth and decidedly unpretentious and just has really good food. They must be doing quite well because they just opened a new outlet at the National Museum - so now there are three.

We had:
- mozzarella-stuffed meatballs with linguine and roasted tomato sauce (someone suggested an alternative. 'Does it involve cheese?' 'No.' 'Then you know which one to pick.')
- two orders of fluffy pancakes (mixed berries and dark chocolate raspberry, with fresh cream and gula melaka syrup)
- bacon
- garlic mushrooms

Marathon training

Today is all about lists, and I might as well share my weekly training for the Perth City to Surf Marathon (in five weeks!) as a list.

- One to two strength and core workouts a week
- Two to three times: 6-10km
- One Tuesday night speedwork session (about 6 km)
- One to two times: 10-15km
- Once a week: 16-25km
- Total mileage (ideally): about 70km
- Total mileage (realistically because let's face it, I don't have the most elastic schedule, or rather it's stretchy but only elongates): 50-60km
- About a cumulative half hour of stretching, tennisballing, and icewaterbottlerolling (WHAT. Those ARE verbs) each week
- If I find myself feeling under the weather from lack of sleep + stress + running, I have a multivitamin and more fruit and veg
- If I find myself tweaky, or injured in any way, I head straight to the pool and swim, about 1-2km at a go (hey, cross-training)
- This regime takes me way too long each week

Surviving the long run 

Now, even though what I did today wasn't, strictly speaking, a long run, I did think about ways to survive a long run. My long runs are up to about 25km, which sounds short for marathon training, but the whole weekend usually involves 35 to 40 km (it's all about tiring your legs out - and I am a wimp. A tired wimp).

Sometimes I have a really good long run or the beginnings of one - like this morning, when I could probably have run another hour and been quite happy about it. But more often than not, I barely want to get out of bed; when I do I barely want to get ready; when I do that and start running I'm tired when I start, or bored in the middle, or tired and slowing down near the end.

So here are my favourite strategies for surviving the long run:

- Call a friend. Someone to run with you for a section or two. Better if they live near you and make you laugh.
- Mantras and head games. Train hard, race easy, right? Or, when the going gets tough, 'you have to earn it'.
- I like the canal path, as routine and boring as it may be, because I don't have to stop and cross too many streets. If I stop I have a hard time getting going again. So my long run has sometimes been a couple of laps on the double canal - 2 x 10km. Treadmills are also good for this. If you stop you fall off.
- Distract your body. When I did that long treadmill run I had a Shot Blok every few km in the last hour and a half, simply to keep my mouth sufficiently distracted.
- Play head games: what is the most ridiculous thing you can see on this run? I have seen the same older gentleman on a unicycle at least thrice. I also once saw a man out walking his African Grey parrot (no, he did not have an eye patch and a peg leg). And the other evening I saw a car drive past with a bunch of balloons sticking out the back window and flapping merrily in the breeze. I must live in an odd neighbourhood (clearly I fit right in).

What are your mantras for getting through a tough run or race?
What, indeed, is the most ridiculous thing you have ever seen on a run? 

Spun around at Sundown

This year I had several friends running the Sundown Marathon, which starts at 11.30pm and goes overnight. It's much cooler (temperature-wise) to run at night, but my circadian rhythm really hates it and I end up falling sick if I stay up overnight, so I didn't sign up.

On Sunday morning I had to wake up early to see visiting friends off to the airport anyway, so I had a grand idea: why not be a one-woman cheer station at Sundown?

But where should I go for the best vantage point? How do I track my friends by their bib numbers?
The 'spectator guide' section, on race night, still said 'Coming soon...'

wah wah. I guess there was no demand? 

So I pored over the course map - fortunately I've run most of it before (hometown advantage!).

At 3.30am I ended up at Gardens By The Bay South. Which has great lighting. And water coolers. And toilets. Spectator WIN.

I was holding a sign that said "IF YOU CAN READ THIS... RUN FASTER!" in neon purple marker, and yelling things like "You're looking great! Finish strong! Last few km to go* before breakfast! You can already hear the finish line!"

*this was the truth and I was able to tell them they had 4km left. The 38km point is really kind of the worst point in a marathon. If you don't know how far runners have to go, please don't tell them 'you're almost there'; when they find out they have 30km left they will hate their lives and you.

Luckily, most runners are appreciative of ANY cheering, and I even got a smile out of most people for the sign, which had the intended effect rather than 'Grr! She's saying to run faster when I can barely walk!'

After about three hours I was hoarse and hungry (but probably not as tired as the people still on the course), so I started running for home. On the way, I chatted with a woman in a big flouncy pink tutu-esque skirt and asked her where she got it. (Answer: online). Her philosophy: "If I'm going to be slow, might as well be cute." Good idea. Apparently she's from California originally and has run marathons in Greece, Rome, Kenya, London, Missouri, and now Singapore, some of them in costume!

just add wings

It then started to rain, my legs ached because of yesterday's 16km and wandering around Sentosa with friends, I discovered a brand new blister BETWEEN my toes, and I was absolutely starving and had stomach cramps at the same time, so I ran for the MRT station instead.

And now here I am eating a big bowl of oatmeal with blueberries for br...lunch.

Spectator lessons: Next year, I think I'll actually plan ahead and get gummi bears or sour lemon candy to hand out. (When I did Tokyo, somewhere along the last 10km there was a woman handing out sour lemon  candy to tired, thirsty marathoners - BEST IDEA EVER.)

What's your best race spectating/ cheering experience? Or the best cheering experience you've had as a runner? 


This week's workouts:
Monday - 5km easy
Tuesday - strength, speedwork 5 x 5min
Thursday - 10km tempo
Friday - 5km easy
Saturday - 16km marathon pace - this was a great run. Completed my planned distance, in a reasonable time, and felt good. I think the stars were aligned.
Sunday - 3 hours of marathon cheering. It rained: bike trainer party with a book.

DON'T PANIC

What, I haven't posted in nearly a month? How did that happen, yadda yadda yadda.

I know exactly how that happened. Back in early May there was some sad news at home - my grandfather passed away (he was 96. We miss him. But don't feel too bad. Not everyone gets 96 good years and four great-grand-children close by). So we were dealing with all that. Then my parents whisked my grandma off to a nice restful holiday in Bintan, and the following week my husband and I went off to New Zealand. On which more in a future post. I promise. I remembered to take photos this time.

Throughout all of this, I ran. And ran and ran. We did a four-day hike in New Zealand, where it's now closing in on winter. On the North Island where my grand-aunt lives I had a lovely run. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, I felt like I was flying, and when I looked up I'd run for an hour and a half.

It's now week 5 of 18 of my Perth marathon training. I tend to panic all the way till the last three weeks of each marathon cycle and then finally sit back, relax and let my legs do their thing. Obviously this hasn't been very effective if you judge by my previous marathon times. Which are complete rubbish. (6:18 in 2009 in Singapore. 5:15 in 2011 in Tokyo. 5:20 here last year).

Today I had a minor freak-out on poor Holly, convinced that I will never be able to run a sub-5-hour marathon, that it's not just the heat giving me issues, that despite all the training I just don't have it in me. And that I'm afraid to go all the way to Perth and find that out.

Fortunately tonight's track session was downright magical and subdued the panic a little bit. 5 x 5 minutes at 5K race pace - so just under 1km per rep. I discovered that yakking away to a friend (well, a short sentence at a time) at the start of each rep helps stop me from going out tooooo fast and imploding like I normally do. Even if she isn't really responding to me. Tonight the laps were on target - and I felt like I was flying.

The panic is still there. But at least I know where my towel is.

Perfect 11s

Jumping on the Liebster bandwagon that seems to be going around the blogiverse. Because this is a thing on the internet its provenance is not entirely clear, but what the Liebster Award seems to be is a way of helping little blogs (like yours truly) with a handful of followers (<200? <3,000? I prefer the latter because it has a heart in it) get noticed.

You're supposed to write 11 things about yourself...

1. I have the attention span of a bored housefly.

2. There are many things I would like to be. Eg: a vegetarian (not out of love for vegetables, or any particularly animal-activist reason, but out of sheer meat-takes-more-resources-to-produce guilt.)

3. Or: a boy (this about ten per cent of the time).
3a. Or at least, "gender-fluid ambisexual pancuddler".
3b. Or Tilda Swinton.

4. I hate labels.

5. I have always had a terrible crush on Tilda Swinton.

6. My single favourite item of clothing is a pair of bright-pink size-small fleece trousers with neon green frogs on them going 'Ribbit', which I obtained for $7 from the Marshalls in Somerville, Massachusetts. I have worn them on all sorts of chilly nights: a climbing/ camping trip in Red Rocks, Nevada; apres-apres-ski during a ski trip to Nagano; and reallyreallysoon, to hike the Heaphy Track in New Zealand.

7. I can't sleep with trousers on - it's shorts or less. Yes, this ties in with the fact that my favourite item of clothing is basically a pair of fleece pajama trousers.

8. From age 9 to 16, I was in a gifted-students programme, which basically meant "where they put the nerds". (True story. Fellow programme victims are at a science-olympiad type competition. Three of them in one corner having a very intense discussion about something. One of the others turns around and says, "Is this how the rest of the world sees us?") The programme was also my salvation: take one awkward, nerdy 9-year-old and put her with other people exactly like her. Presto - friends!

9. I'm right-handed but I wear my watch on my right wrist. Don't ask me why, it just feels right!

10. When I was 8, I memorised the longest poem I could find in any book I owned: "The Highwayman", by Alfred Noyes.

11. This is taking far longer than it should - can I go to bed now?

...and answer 11 questions from the blogger (Holly) who nominated you...

1. If you could eat any breakfast food right now, what would it be?  Please be very descriptive.  I love breakfast food and want to drool all over your descriptions.

A large breakfast burrito, scrambled eggs, cheese, salsa, and guacamole, in a flour tortilla. Alternatively, poached eggs with corned beef hash and some homefries from The Fort diner in Lebanon, New Hampshire. Or homemade granola with lots of nuts and chocolate chips. Alternatively alternatively, a large cup of oatmeal with warmed blueberries and a drizzle of cream...

2. What book is closest to where you’re sitting, right this very minute?

Edward Humes' 'Garbology' - about how very much trash we developed countries produce. (If we were so developed we wouldn't produce that much trash.)
Also the very funny Mindy Kaling's 'Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? and other concerns'.

3. Think about something you really want to do (you don’t have to share what it is).  What’s holding you back?

Timing. (Isn't it always timing?)

4. Which holiday has the traditions that you enjoy the most?

Chinese New Year, mostly because it involves serious time with my wonderful extended family.

5. Fill in the blanks: I would do twice as much (insert household task/chore), in exchange for never having to (insert another household task/chore) EVER AGAIN.

I would do twice as much laundry (I feel like I am already doing twice as much laundry), in exchange for never having to take out the trash EVER AGAIN.

6. Do you like how common your name is?  [ie, "Sarah"s, do you like sharing your name with half the world?  "Shelande"s, do you like having such a unique name?]

When I was in Secondary 2, there were three of us named Grace in the same class: Grace Chua, Grace Chong, and Grace Chen. Even our Chinese names were similar: Wan Jun, Xiao Jun, and Cai Hong. I don't know how traumatic this was for the other two but it was for me.

7. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you “grew up”?

A paediatrician (my parents are doctors), a journalist (my mom keeps copies of a 'newspaper' I put together at age six, complete with ads), a ballet dancer, a journalist, a forensic pathologist, a journalist... and then I kind of stopped there.

8.  Do you have as much trouble with the “Insert Numbered List” function as I do?  It always – ALWAYS – screws up my formatting.  I’ve resigned myself to actually typing the numbers.

Hogawd. It's word-processing programs. They hate me.

9. What are you using to replace/instead of Google Reader? 

Trying out Feedly...

10. What smell is nostalgic to you?

Books have a very distinctive smell. (I spent a lot of time in libraries growing up.)

11. Self-Serving Question: What would you like to read more of on this blog?

What work is like for a running coach!

...and ask 11 more questions of other small-time bloggers i want to share the love with. (It's 11.30pm and I've run out of energy after a hard track workout this evening involving 8x100 strides, 4x400 at mile pace, and 4x800 at mile pace which quickly degenerated into 4:15s. Now I'm sitting in a puddle on my couch waiting for the second load of laundry to be done, so this might have to wait.)
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But wait! 
I have some BIG NEWS and some not-so-big news.

Big news: I am slowly shedding a toenail. (Aren't you glad I waited till after the description of breakfast food?) Toenails are overrated - at least that's what I'll keep telling myself. Last year I'd go for a long trail run then (this is the correct order, pay attention!) come home, eat second breakfast, take a shower, stretch, and THEN check to make sure my toenails were all still there.

In other news, I SIGNED UP FOR THE CHEVRON CITY TO SURF MARATHON IN PERTH this August!
The goal is the same as ever - A goal - sub 4:30 even if it hurts a little (and learn to hurt a little); B goal - sub 5:00 and have fun, no cramping; C goal - run an entire marathon without cramping.
Last year I did the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon in 5:19, thanks to crippling quad/knee-cramps. It may be time to treat myself to some compression capris. I love my calf sleeves but my calves haven't been giving me any issues of late. Time to give the quads some love. Nuun has been keeping me relatively cramp-free and I may try taking a half tablet for some concentrated electrolytes mid-run.

What's your goal race this year? Or your running goals for the year?