Yes. I ordered all thirteen digital files!

(yes, there are some there I would not willingly pay for. But at a fixed price of $60ish, when ONE print costs around $20, it was hard to resist these!)

Auckland Marathon Race Report Part 3: Yeah, I run (have I got a long way to run)

Part 1
Part 2

Leaving Ed helped me to focus. This was MY race, and if tiredness was the problem, I wans't going to let my job, my job I love, get in the way of the race I love. I opted for the magic music box to pull me through again, which was the best thing for me. I've really liked starting with company, then using music when it comes time for me to stop chattering. I'm not great at running in silence- like the sound of my own voice too darn much, and can never resist the chance to point out silly t-shirts (my fave: "42,195 metres to the next real drink station"; J's face: "you're the run that I want")

The first song on today was Sweet Caroline. Cheese is what works best for me. It makes me happy, swells my heart and that's what I need more than any beat, any tempo. Neil never fails. How can you not feel happy when the strings swell, the beat crescendos and "Reaching out, touching me, touching you" builds to "boom, boom, boom SWEEEEET Caroline"?? LOL. I can't believe I'm sharing my appalling taste with the internet at large. Please don't stop liking me!!! I really am very nice! I kept on at my slowish pace, pottering along slowly, but surely. Ed was a yellow blob in the distance, moving further and further away, but I was keeping up with my own new group. The problem with huge starts is you can never be quite sure whether people "should" be passing or not. I hurt quite a lot already, but I was smiling again.

The support was great along this part- you run around the bays to St Heliers, and by this time it was getting towards 9. People are up, having breakfast, enjoying coffees. [Actually, Auckland did well with crowd support this year- from the blearly eyed dressing-gowners on the Shore, to the capris and lattes crowd of Mission Bay, and then the exhausted but elated finishers and supporters who cheer us in as we complete the last 1-2ks.] hey're non-discrimination cheerers, everyone gets a clap, everyone gets a smile. My mind was fixed now. I felt like me again, even if a slow, sore, somewhat shuffly version of me.

Watching the male leaders coming to the end of their race when I wasn't even at 25k was awesome (in the literal sense ("awe inspiring"), and the more modern sense ("cool") too). Then seeing the female winner, who did not look like a marathoner, beaming behind her motorbike escort. It was disheartening to see the people in front of me without seeing the people behind me. I felt close to last, even though logically I knew I wasn't (even on gun time, I placed 48/118 in my grade, 108/? female, and 554/1000ish? overall- only preliminary results are up at the moment, so I can only see me, not the whole field). Fortunately, although I'd come off pace, I knew I was still running along nicely and was keeping under 6:00/k, which was the only maths I could handle at that point. Saw A when I was at 2:40, I guess 2.5kish from the turn around, so at 29-30k for me and 34-35k for her, and knew she was kicking butt. By my calculations she had an hour to do 7-8k and come in in a BQ time!* She looked happy and relieved to see me- I can't have been that far behind Ed, but she definitely expected me to have pulled ahead, not vice versa (Ed had a couple of bad-luck marathon attempts before today, and although he's a 21-22 5ker, his marathon pb was 4:23 or so, on the Auckland course). I also saw a colleague and waved at him excitedly (he was before A, actually, and did around 3:30).

Saw Ed on his way back and gave a big wave. He looked focussed. Or grumpy. I couldn't tell which at the time, and hoped he was not struggling. I know now it was focus, as if anything, he picked up pace on the way back. He couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes ahead of me at halfway, and he finished 5 minutes ahead. I am SOOOO pleased for him- he earned it! I got smily and tearyish as I crossed the turnaround. On the way home. I think Auckland is VERY well designed in this regard. The best way to conquer the 20-mile blues has got to be to put a turn around there. It turns it from the scary site of the ever-feared wall to the marker of the home stretch. Only 10k to go (it was actually a bit before 20- I hit it in 2:55, hit 32k in 2:58- fastest ever, just barely).

The last 10k is best described as "k-counting pain and trying not to pee my pants, deciding whether to take a pit stop, and considering peeing my pants.. would the tri shammy be like a nappy?". Oh, and hunger. I plodded along, trying to make sure I could go sub-4 even with 6 minute ks. At most markers I had 1-2 minutes fat, and I wanted to keep it that way. The soreness had long since moved from my calves and shins to my quads, glutes and hips. I was really "pleased" about this, as calf pain says "scary scary danger injury territory" to me, while quads say "running". J and I had Womens Refuge labels (like race numbers, but numberless- what would you use to describe these??) on our backs, and only one person commented in the whole race. It was an old dude, 60s-70s, wearing marathoner-speedos, with a matching singlet top, frizzy haired and toothless, but obviously pretty durn good. I passed him on the way back, and he said "hurh hurh, women's refuge- does that mean you're a refugee". I wasn't particularly impressed by this, but couldn't tell if it was a dumb joke, or a sexist anti-refuge comment, so I just said "just a fundraiser" and tuned back in. I ate some clif bar (OMG, I love clif bars), some jelly beans, and took in some powerade. I was hungry at halfway, which suggests I should have worked harder on eating the second bagel half. Or had lunch on Sat, or something.

I also passed my old friend Mr 4:15, walking on the way back. Would you believe he had no-one with him? Who'd a thought? (hmm.. is my sarcasm glaringly obvious enough to span the seven seas of the internet?). OOOH that man made me MAD.

Eventually, I plodded back into town, for the last 2ks. I knew I had it kinda in the bag, but that I couldn't relax. So I plodded on. There was no 42k marker, which is fine, but I was kinda expecting one, and it's nice to know when there really is 200m to go. As I mentioned, the support was great, so part way through Air Supply's "Every woman in the world" (both that song and Neil come from my days in department store retail... We weren't big on top 40...), I took my earplugs out and tried to get them into my pocket as I finally approached the finish! I saw my sister screaming for me and waved and smiled. Then a few paces along Ed called out. I was SO happy. I gave him a massive wave, then realised it was time to smile for the camera, and crossed the line. I stopped my watch (hopefully after the photographers had got me) and was relieved to be sub 3:59. That's a truly sub-4 time!

I walked over to the ambulance area, the only place I could see to sit and I sat.

**the oddest thing, she didn't- she came it at around 3:42, but said she'd had the best last 10k ever. I do not get it- I specifically remember it being 2:40, and even if I'm about where it was, which is not super likely, she MUST have been past 32k, so she can't have had more than 10k to go. That would make her final 10k slower than mine. SO weird....)

Auckland Marathon Race Report Part 2: Golden Slumbers

Part 1: The Final Countdown

The first half of the marathon course is hilly. Slightly hillier than I remembered, but nothing like the training I do here. Ed and I navigated a slow course through the throngs of ill-seeded people. SERIOUSLY LADY- THERE ARE 7500 PEOPLE IN THIS RACE. Did you REALLY think you were in the top 20% or so????? (this rant seems to be a fact of marathoning life, but it never ceases to amaze me). I m was surprised to see Mr 4:15 sticking with us. Uhh hello dude- we're on 3:50 pace here...? (we were pretty much on pace from about the third k). We overheard him saying he wanted to come in halfway at 2:00, which I didn't think was a sensible strategy for a hilly first half! Pacer Liz/experts out there.. any comments before I defame the pacers yesterday throughout the remainder of this report?? Also, if this guy was going for 4:15 GUN time, I think he needed to make that clear, as he would have crossed the line at 5+ minutes. What's the normal rule for such things??

The course was pretty congested to 10kish, and wasn't exactly sparse after that, as we ran to nearly 21k with the halfers. After one drinks station the guy in front of me completely cut me off and I nearly crashed into a van. I was pretty frustrated, and semi-jokingly shook my cup at him. Unfortunately, I misjudged the amount of pressure needed to make a joke, and ended up chucking a cup of water over his back. Not deliberate, but not entirely accidental either. Feel pretty bratty and embarrassed, though it was quite funny, and he laughed too. He was with Mr 4:15, which irritated me, as he should not have been in front of me. As I type this, I realise how irritable I was. I really was having a good time, commenting to Ed that it was so much more fun to be marathoning instead of half-marathoning. But the fact that I was getting so irritable suggests that my hypothesis may be correct. I was not well rested enough to do my best.

I was feeling OK over the hills, even if they were bigger than I thought! I worried about J, even though I knew her H***-power legs would see her through. She needed to get to the Bridge by 8:30 to avoid being bussed, and although we knew she would, I wasn't sure how long it took her to cross the start line, so I kept her in my mind a lot. I knew I wasn't feeling as good as Ed though, and tried to remember this time in Rotorua. I think it felt easy there, but it was hard to imagine speeding up at all, if that makes sense. So, I think my effort levels were roughly equivalent, though I may have worked a little harder, since the first half of Auckland is on balance harder- if only because the hills go down a lot more.

The Bridge was also harder than last time. I think the reason for this is that last time, a half in 2005, I was powering up hills. I expected to be tired, and I got to pass others who are less strong on hills than I am. This time, I'm trying to keep it conservative, trying not to power, so it feels harder, because when we try to pull back, we expect to feel easy. But hills rarely feel easy. They're hills.

After the Bridge, there's some random corner turning to make up distance. Also some overlap, so you can see those who are a bit in front of you. Mr 4:15 was there, sure enough. And, rather surprisingly, Ms 2:20 half. WTF????????? I'll tell you know, we ran into her at 18km, and passed her there. This would have been at about 1:40ish. So 1:45ish, gun time, to be fair. 3k left, and 35 minutes. Hmmm. We said something to her at 18, and she seemed PLEASED to be 15 minutes ahead of schedule. Umm. RIGHT! This woman was supposed to be MY BABY SISTER'S PACER! I was SO glad J didn't find her, because she could have completely ruined her race!

Around 18-19, I started fading. E saw it immediately, and started giving me a pep talk. Technique, shoulders back, watch your gait etc. I know he meant well, but it just upset me. I didn't WANT a pep talk at halfway. I wanted my pep talk to be getting me over the finish line in 3:54:xx, or 3:49.xx, or talking me through the tough ks from 28-33 (those are my worst- bored and sore, but nowehere near done)! But all I wanted at 18k was to nap. My calf was a little tight, and my foot a little uncertain, but if I';d felt strong they'd have been mere niggles. But the thought of turning off the half-M finish, running through, catnapping for half an hour, then cheering my sister in was pulling me strong. I bitched inside. Goddamn work. Goddamnit. Goddamn tired. Too much goddamn walking yesterday. Then I reminded myself that this is a mental game- I remembered one of my super readers (Lana? was it you?) feeling she's lost the mental fight when she first saw a sub-4 hour goal disappear, and I knew I didn't need to lose sub-4, just because I didn't have enough juice to haul way-too-many-pounds of me around 13 more miles at sub-9 pace (sorry for the km/mile changes.. I change the way I think at different times, since I'm basically bilingual now!). And I decided to flip a mental switch. I told Ed, "I was home by 7 every night last week, where I ate sensible, nutritious dinners. I'm not tired, I'm well rested. I slept well last night, and I've had a textbook taper." It didn't work. I was amazed by what a conscious process "mental strength" was for me. I've never called on it before, not in the way I did yesterday. Usually I either go, or give up.

So at half way, when Ed suggested trying to get to 25k by 2:xx (I don't think I ever heard or computed the goal), I told him it was time for him to leave. I knew the only way I could turn myself around was to be with myself, and think only of me. It was hard, and hard for him to do it guilt free, but that was the deal. He looked sceptical when I told him I was still going to be coming under 3:59:59, and said "well, this is pace!" and bounded off. I was irritated (I know he didn't mean it badly, but I didn't need him to lose faith in me too!), and decided I would stick to myself and prove him wrong!



OMG- my computer just CRASHED 2 minutes before pre-sales to BON JOVI went on sale!!! But a frantic call to P and we were in. Thankfully, as by the time I got my baby up and running again, the site was pretty much closed! I'm LIVING ON A PRAYER BABY!

3.58.52

A 6ish minute PB and sub 4, sort of safely. But a pretty crap race. I had to let Ed run on (to a smashing PB of 3:53!!!! from 4:2x!!!!) at half way because all I wanted to do was nap. I honestly do think a horrid week of lead up made a difference, but I can't solely blame it.

It took a lot of mental strength to keep going, and I'm pretty pleased with myself for running a 2:02 half on legs that were already half cooked. More to come. Maybe.

"Those" sorts of runs

I've been MIA for the last few days, as I spent some a few days in Singapore for work. That's a post unto itself, but before I get into a detailed work/holiday post, I wanted to write about two runs I've done recently, that were epic in a quite different way to some of the other runs I've blogged about recently.

The first of these two runs was last Saturday, a day all Welly runners will remember (at least those who ventured out, instead of hiding inside and keeping the long runs for Sunday). A strong steady wind, with gusts of over 120 kph. I've moaned about the wind here before, I know. This was SERIOUS wind. And accompanied by sand, sharp cold rain showers, and the ever present threat of a decent storm. Y'know, that ominous storm feeling. I was running with my phone, since I was alone, P was riding and I wasn't sure how long I'd be out for, and a look through some texts I sent along the way showed considerable profanity, and frequent resort to the phrase "mother f---". I had to constantly work at ensuring I was travelling in a straight line, and not hitting bollards, falling off curbs or running into traffic. I had to stop a couple of times on Cobham Drive to steady myself. Anyhoo, it was windy. I explored a great new trail and had a blast for an hour, then got tired and sore, sick of the wind, sick of the rain, sick of climbing hills (with no respite from the wind- it got everywhere). I kept going for 2 hours and eight minutes after the first thought of wanting to die, and it never got better. Sure- I was slow (veeery slow), but I kept at it, and even added a fairly decent climb. Score one for perseverance and mental toughness.

The next run was the opposite of the first. Singapore. Hot, humid, flat (not necessarily by, say Tennessee standards, but for ME). No shelter in the shade- the humidity follows you everywhere (here I find it's usually the glare of the sun that's worst). I set out for 2 hours and as soon as I started, felt like I was at the halfway point of a marathon. My legs were stuffed from 3 days of walking every moment I wasn't in the office, and my belly was stuffed from 3 days of sub standard hydration and horrific "holiday" eating. I only ended up doing 1:40, and I'm fine with that. It was taking advantage of a convenient moment, rather than giving in, and it was one of my tougher, slower, more depressing 1:40s I've ever done. When I stopped, I felt about the same way as I felt after the epic 20+ miler with A the other week. After deciding to throw myself into traffic at 35 minutes, I kept at it for another hour. Man I was slimy when I got back!

The point of these is not so much to show mental toughness or my preparedness for the next marathon, but to remind us that these slow, tedious, horrible runs are as important for our endurance training as those awesome, everything-comes-together, hurts-but-in-a-good way, runs we love. At mile 22 when I want to die, I'll remember these two runs. I actually do not think that the last 4 miles in Auckland will be as sucky as the overwhelming humidity or having sand blown into me for miles on end. And if it is? Been there, done that.