I guess I like the structure that training for a marathon gives me. Without it, I don't think I could motivate myself to get my runs is, and MAN am I motivated. I know I would have been dead meat in Phoenix if I hadn't trained, and yet I know there is more I can do. Right now, I know I'll be in San Diego on June 6 for the San Diego Rock 'N' Roll Marathon, and I am entered into the lottery for the New York Marathon in November.
I am now starting the second week of my 16-week training grid for San Diego. It is a much more aggressive plan than the beginner plan I used for Phoenix, and I am hoping to improve my time. The first week didn't go that well. Work and the weather were tough to manage, but it is a base to start from and I'll be able to improve upon it. I can't wait until daylight savings time starts in a couple of weeks, which will give me more time in the evening. It will also be helpful when it warms up past 13 degrees.
Today is speedwork, and I hope to get it in when I get home from work.
In June 2009, I traveled to Seattle for the main purpose of moving my then-fiance' and my now-stepdaughter to Colorado. First things first, though. I had my first half marathon to run.
The day started VERY early in the morning, and Gabriella was sweet enough to drive me down to Tukwila to the start. I was not nervous, which surprised me. I had run the distances at altitude so I knew I could finish the 13.1 miles ahead of me. I had no idea if the 8:00/mile pace I was planning was going to be too fast or not, though, and I resolved to just run smart and slow down if it wasn't going well.
As the race got underway, I settled into a pace just around my target. The first couple miles went by fairly fast, as I took in the surroundings and the initial climb to Lake Washington. I felt fantastic and picked up my pace. Within a couple miles, I was running along the west side of Lake Washington on a perfect day and with many more people than I expected cheering on all the runners. My pace quickened a bit more.
Once past Lake Washington, the course turned west along the express lanes of I-90. This was a fairly uninspiring stretch of the race, although I did get a kick out of the band playing at the opposite end of a long underground portion of the express lanes. The music echoed loudly through the tunnel and took my mind off the surroundings for several minutes.
As the express lanes emptied into downtown Seattle, I felt my legs beginning to tire. However, with only about two miles to go, I knew I was in great shape and running much faster than I had hoped for. And the crowds in downtown were amazing. They cheered loudly for all who passed, and I found that energy necessary to push me up the slight uphill grade before I turned once, then once again to head down the final stretch toward Qwest Field. As I turned into the last .2 miles, I picked up my pace and caught a glimpse of Gabriella out of the corner of my eye amongst the crowd.
Finish time - 1:40:01 (7:37/mile pace)
PF Chang's Rock 'N' Roll Arizona Marathon - 1/17/2010
I had always said I would never do a marathon...until I finished the half-marathon. From that point, it was all I could think about. The training I had done for the half-marathon was acceptable, but I knew I could do more and I knew that meant I could run faster and/or farther.
With all of the traveling over the summer moving Gabriella and Christy to Colorado, followed by my class reunion, and a trip to California for Christy's birthday my running was sporadic but adequate. Early in the summer, I found a beginner's marathon training plan and set my mind to stick to it. It was a 16-week program, which meant my start date was September 28, 2009, and it culminated at the marathon January 17, 2010.
With the exception of days with bad weather and one week when I was sick, I stuck to the program. That included some pretty interesting long runs on weekends that were snowing or a lot of snow was already on the ground, but I got them all in and felt good going into the taper time leading up to the marathon.
26.2 miles. That's a long way to run. I'll never forget the course...both what I knew about it from the video of the whole route and what I experienced when I was out there.
I remember getting started in downtown Phoenix and being distracted for the first mile getting through the crowd to the extent that I didn't feel like I would get tripped up. I was familiar with the downtown from the second Phoenix 10k I ran with Dad, and I recall thinking how far I had come since that time. On the turn north out of downtown, I settled into a comfortable pace and noticed the crowds on the streets. I knew that I needed to try to stay on an 8:00/mile pace to hit my target time of 3:30:00. The crowd thinned out fairly soon and it seemed like little time at all passed before I reached the 10k mark. By this time I had turned east and had Camelback Mountain in my sights. I knew I'd be running toward it for a while, and by the time I finally turned away from it I would be heading south toward Tempe and the finish line.
Around the 10k mark, though, I was aware that my stomach was not settled and there was building pressure. Not good. Through the next few miles, I contemplated whether I was going to be able to make it to the finish line without making a pit stop - and that if I did stop, how much time I would lose if I did. At mile 12, I couldn't take it anymore and veered into a portable toilet. In 40 seconds or less, I did my business and was back on the course and ran the next mile in about 7:40 to make up the lost time.
That didn't solve all my problems, but it solved them enough to allow me to keep going. After I made up the lost time, I locked in on my pace again and noticed that each time I passed a gun clock that I was ahead of my goal pace. I tried not to look at my Garmin too much because the miles don't go by as fast that way. So I focused on my surroundings and running all the tangents I could. After passing through Scottsdale, I was nearly to 20 miles and still feeling okay. I went on through the 20-mile wall and pushed on.
Within a mile, it hit me. I was tired and my legs were hurting. "Less than a 10k," I told myself. "So close. Don't give it up now." And I pressed on. About a million years later, I crossed under I-10 and painfully climbed a bridge over the Salt River...and there it was. I was only about two miles away, but I could see Sun Devil Stadium and the finish. My pace had dropped a little in the two previous miles but picked back up again. About a mile from the finish, I distinctly recall someone yelling, "Lengthen those strides, pump your arms, and push it all the way in!" "Screw you," I thought. "Real easy to say from the sidewalk."
I made the last couple turns and there was the finish. I pushed across the line and made it...and then the waves of pain and emotion washed over me.
After the first race in Phoenix, I was hooked. Since I knew I could run a 10k and live to tell about it, I set my sights locally - the Bolder Boulder.
I didn't run much after Phoenix...I let the weather talk me out of it. As silly as it seems, I got a charge out of signing up online for the Bolder Boulder. It was a big deal, and I did it about four months before the race - always on Memorial Day - to ensure that I would not talk myself out of it. By the time March rolled around and daylight savings time kicked in, I restarted my running regimen. By the end of the month, I had a Garmin (thanks to my sweetheart, Gabriella!) and the geek factor of being able to track progress and distances online began.
I established a self-imposed program of about three runs per week for around 15 miles per week. As April gave way to May, I kept up the program but didn't ever run over 7 or 8 miles for my longest runs. On Memorial Day, I ran my first Bolder Bolder - the second race of my life - in 46:07 (7:25/mile pace).
I spent much of the summer traveling and let my running drop off. My weight crept up as a result, and I found myself over 200 pounds again. Only as summer gave way to fall did my dad come to the rescue again with an invitation to the Phoenix 10k in November 2009. I started running again - but not with the same frequency I had before the Bolder Boulder - and I paid for it during the race. I fought my way through to a 49:12 time (a 7:44 pace) with my heart and lungs about to blow out of my chest. It was very clear that I was going to (again) eat less and run more if I was going to be able to survive races on a regular basis...and I knew I needed to keep running for my overall health.
Although this was reconfirmed at the Colder Bolder 5k in December 2008, I did not run much at all as the 2009 legislative session wound up and got very busy. By this time, I was 215 pounds - 25 pounds more than the lowest I had achieved, and I was mad at myself. As Gabriella (who was still in Seattle) and I made our plans for our future, I made a commitment to enter my first half-marathon and dedicate myself to a training program to achieve it.
After struggling through the Runnin' of the Green 7k around St. Patick's Day, I knew I had a lot of work to do. By the time the Cherry Creek Sneak 5-mile race at the end of April, I was back up to about 20 miles a week on average and ran that race well. I ran the 2009 Bolder Boulder feeling very strong and finished in 45:44 (7:21 pace).
By the week before the Seattle Rock 'N' Roll Half-Marathon, I had shaved ten pounds and was ready to rock and roll!
When I found myself officially by myself in 2006, I knew that I needed to change my life. I had for so long let things happen to me while waiting for life to improve. I gave everything of myself never did anything for myself. And I made excuses for why I didn't do anything, and as a result got more and more unhealthy. I was living in the house my first wife and I had at the time in Broomfield, Colorado. It was next to thousands of acres of Boulder County open space into which I rarely ventured in the seven years we lived in the house.
At six feet tall, I had no business carrying around 232 pounds. Something had to change. I remember the first day I laced up the best shoes I had at the time and took off out the door to run. Within thirty seconds, I was wheezing - my heart pounding. Withing two minutes, I had slowed to walk, my lungs on fire. That's how it went on and off for about twenty minutes, during which I maybe went a mile and a half. The next day I was in pain. My knees and hips hurt, and I still felt the burn in my chest. I continued this a couple times a week, and tried a visit to the 24 Hour Fitness of which I had been a member since 2000 but rarely ever visited.
The process of the divorce began in March of 2006, and by then the stress of the situation and my occasional gut-wrenching exercise sessions had begun to shave weight off my body. I was losing some weight but not really in the right way, as my diet was still poor (when I ate), and the bulk of the weight loss was from the stress and not the exercise. Still, it was progress I could see and that was encouraging. As fall gave way to winter, I ran less and the weight loss stopped.
My transition to being a runner was really as a result of a series of events that occurred in 2007. I met someone that reintroduced my to eating well and exercising. Her name was Amy, and although the relationship ultimately did not work out, she made an imprint on my life that changed me forever. With her, I played organized soccer, climbed mountains, hiked, almost learned to surf, and ran. When we broke up, I kept on with the running and the weight started to come off again. It was a difficult time, but I found that running gave me a purpose and an outlet for all of the frustration and occasional anger.
My dad - a recreational runner since as long as I could remember - encouraged me, and in late summer of 2007 suggested I come to Phoenix in the fall for the Phoenix New Times 10-k on Veterans Day. Before I could talk myself out of it, I said yes.
And now I had my first goal.
I did not keep a runners log. I only guesstimated how far I was running when I went out two to three times a week. I timed my runs so at least I had some idea how long I could go, but I noticed that I was able to cover the regular routes I ran in less time.
In November, I traveled to Phoenix and got ready to run my first race since a non-scored relay for shotputters and discus throwers at a home high school track meet. I had no idea what to expect. Dad and I made the trip to Tempe, where the race was being held. He was signed up for the 5k and I for the 10k. After the first mile, I picked up my pace and began to run hard...too hard, but I wasn't smart enough to know any better...and I was running angry. As I came to the last corner before Mill Street, I saw my dad and heard him hollering. I lengthed my strides and started pumping my arms and sprinted to the finish for a time of 45:31 - a 10k time I have yet to beat.
