Ryan Hall Slept In Yesterday

I, however, did not. I boarded a 6:20 a.m. NYC-bound bus in the dark so I could get to Tavern on the Green by 8:30 for the final ASICS-sponsored event pre marathon. I figured one last opportunity for inspiration from Deena Kastor, Terrence Mahon, and my recent fave Ryan Hall wouldn't hurt. Marathon training has been an incredible journey and I wanted the full experience that the ASICS Editor Run team afforded me.

Terrence and Deena were terrific, offering nutrition and motivational tips (Deena: bring trash bags to the race start to sit on while you wait; Terrence: don't overdo it on carbs the day before the race!).

Alas, Ryan, we were told, "wanted to stay off his feet." Perfectly understandable. I'd want to stay off my feet too if I had 26.2 miles to run on Sunday at a blistering pace. Heck. I wanted to stay off my feet regardless!

After the event, I ambled slowly through Central Park to my hotel a few blocks away. And who do I see running? None other than Ryan Hall and his adorable wife Sara!

Oh, I guess he's allowed. :) I heard later he also had a massage scheduled for that morning. In all seriousness, the guy has a lot of obligations. I later saw him at the expo amiably signing autographs.

On a different note. I am tempted to write a long post about my journey to this moment. But any time I start to, it feels over the top. Let me simply say that I am pretty much in awe of myself. I really never believed I had the physical wherewithal to train for such a distance. Just last year I was still babying my legs after the previous year's stress fracture. Running longer than 40 minutes was not possible.

And I am profoundly impressed that I have been able to get my head around the idea of running 26.2 miles. I cannot fully express how much I have learned about my ability to persevere.

I am insanely proud of how far I've come. Tomorrow is about enjoying the day as it unfolds.

For any of you who might be spectating, I will be immensely grateful if you cheer for me! I'll be wearing a red Women's Health short-sleeved shirt with my name on the front, bib #39262, and a white cap. If all goes well, I'll be running roughly 9:30- to 10:00-minute miles starting roughly at 10:15 a.m.

The Wrong Things

I have a tendency to worry.

And when it comes to racing, I seem to worry about all the wrong things.

Case in point, the night before the Philly Distance Run, I called the coaches in a panic because I was worried about, er, what parking garage to park in. The 13.1 miles didn't phase me.

Turned out the garage wasn't an issue. I wound up not in the one I'd identified near the race start, but as luck would have it, one that charged an unheard-of $5 flat rate. Big excitement! And it was directly across the street from the Sheraton where I used the lobby bathroom before and after the race. Way better than stinky porta-potties!

Instead, just 15 minutes into the race, I lost my footing, hit the ground, and twisted my knee making the 13.1 miles more of a struggle than I expected.

This week, here are the two major things stressing me out:

• Picking the right socks for race day
  
• Whether I'll come down with swine flu before Sunday

The sock thing I know I can deal with. Blisters are a given and my feet will survive. It's that second one that freaks me out. My husband is sick. My dad is just getting over something nasty. My co-worker's two sons are sick with what looks like the swine.

I hope I'm worrying about the wrong thing. I'll be pretty disappointed if I'm stricken right before the race. That said, I hope what I should be concerned about isn't worse!

A Week to Go!

I've been training all year in ASICS 3010s. They've been treating me well, especially since ASICS redesigned my favorite Kayano last year after which I found it profoundly uncomfortable to wear. But I've never been totally sure that these were the right shoes for my feet.

So last week when ASICS offered free foot and gait analysis at the grand opening of their first standalone store on 42nd Street near Bryant Park in NYC, I jumped at the opportunity. The end result would be a shoe recommendation based on actual data. (Though it did occur to me that I might discover I'd been training all year in the wrong shoe, a potentially vexing outcome!)

I've always assumed that I'm a major pronator. Both my arches fall a bit and my ankles seem to roll in. And since starting marathon training, I have a lovely blister/callous combo on my left big toe and my right, er, bunion area (what else to call it?). Obviously there is a discrepancy between feet. No surprise given my whole body is off kilter because of the scoliosis.

But after having my feet measured with a laser and my gait filmed and plotted on a graph, it turns out that my feet aren't that bad. Well, at least one of them. My left foot pronates just a teensy bit; my right one a whole lot more. A blister explanation, methinks. And the right shoe for me? Drum roll...

The 3010s! Or the newly designed Kayano 16, which goes back to its original roots.

Anyway, a few pictures courtesy of ASICS.

I'm getting excited about the marathon next weekend. As usual, I'm stressing about ridiculous things: what I'll wear, how gross I'll be afterward, how long the potty lines will be.

Oh right, I'm running 26.2 miles? I guess that's what I'm supposed to fret about!

What Not to Do Right Before Your Marathon Taper

What do you not get from regular triathlon/marathon training? That's right: Lateral movement. I mean, nobody crosses the finish line by going sideways. 


Ask me to lunge, squat, jump in any direction but forward and, well, something's bound to go wrong.

Cute picture, but I sure am paying for it!

This shot was taken during a press event last week during that trip to Vancouver. I could hardly walk for two days afterward. 

My legs were still toast by the time last Sunday's long run (my last huge effort pre-NYC) appeared on the schedule. Plus, in a move obviously meant to induce pre-taper panic, my immune system decided to take a vacation and I came down with a vicious stomach plague.

So coach told me to take the day off. I crawled into bed at noon full of despair for marathon training down the drain, but helpless to my legs and belly.

Instead I found a double torture session on Wednesday: 45-minute run at lunch with speed drills and 1:15 after work at marathon pace. The noontime run went OK despite some lingering weakness from purging my stomach contents all weekend. But 20 minutes into the evening session, my left knee (yeah, the one that's bending in the picture) threatened to snap. Just like at the Philly Distance Run, I had to stop and stretch every five minutes or so. Finally, 55 minutes in I waved the white flag and ran to the gym where I stretched my IT band.

I was giving myself a virtual high-five for eking out almost an hour, when I realized I was lurching in the direction of the treadmill. I guess I really wanted to get those final miles in the bank no matter what my knee thought! Did the last 20 minutes at marathon pace and, thanks to the boost from the belt, the knee stayed quiet.

Still a little worried about these next two weeks. A very long run is on the docket for Sunday, so the taper will be unorthodox. And I'm hoping the endorphins on race day carry me blissfully along unaware of my achy joints.  

And no more sideways movements until the race is over.

Running Scared

The map of Stanley Park in Vancouver promised an urban oasis with totem poles, a 50-meter pool, beaches, and a breathtaking combo of alpine and maritime scenery. And a Runner's World friend had recommended the 10K loop around the park when she heard I was traveling to Vancouver on business this week.

With a 60-minute run on the schedule, it sounded ideal. After a long travel day on Tuesday, and a packed day of presentations, tours, and meetings on Wednesday, I had it all planned out for Wed night. Leave the hotel at 5:00, run an hour, be stretched/showered/dressed and on the bus to dinner by 7:00.

It was a little after 5:00 when I headed out. As I jogged toward Coal Harbour I realized I'd brought only my cell phone and room key. No money, no ID, no map. But it was just an hour, I thought. A loop around the outer edge of the park. What could go wrong?

I started the first of two 15-minute tempo intervals as I passed the Vancouver Rowing Club. Breathing hard, I ran by the totem poles, ran under the lighthouse at Brockton Point, and took in the majesty of the snow-covered mountains across Burrard Inlet. I had the distinct feeling of running away from civilization. It still felt like a city park, with rollerbladers and cyclists whooshing by, but with each meter the land pushed into the sea, the farther I felt from safety. I'd been advised to stay along the seawall and eventually I'd get back to the park entrance. It was chilly with a wind blowing off the water. I'd elected not to wear my new lululemon arm warmers that I'd just purchased at the Robson Street store, wearing just knickers and a tank. As long as I was running, I was warm.

The first interval done, I jogged under Lion's Gate Bridge and around Prospect Point, noting that at high tide the waves would have splashed up around my ankles. Time to start the second interval. Pushing the pace, I ran hard by Siwash Rock, noting the manmade rock towers standing like ancient totems along the shore. I wondered if they got knocked over and reconstructed each day.

I was overjoyed to be finished with the second interval. I checked the map placard near Third Beach and saw that I was close to the end of the loop. Perfect, I thought. I passed by Second Beach Pool, envying Vancouver-ites such an awesome pool in a gorgeous location.

And then it began to unravel. I ran and ran along the seawall waiting for the familiar signs of where I had started the run. Instead the scenery became more and more urban. I recognized none of the skyline. By this time my hour was done. I walked a bit, looking for another map placard, but no luck. Finally I stopped a woman walking her dog. I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to ask, where I needed to go. I cursed myself for not bringing the map.

Ultimately, she waved me in the general direction (north), but warned me that I'd have to go up a big hill to get there. At this point it was 6:20 and I knew making the dinner bus would be close. I speedwalked over the hill but began to doubt the directions. Nothing looked familiar.

I waved down someone else, who told me I needed to go west then north. Aargh. I started to run. It was 6:30 now and I was heading back toward the park. Picturing the basic layout of the city in my head, I realized I needed to doubleback and go north again. I needed to get to the hotel, not the park. And if I was going to make it to dinner (and not freeze), I'd have to run the entire way.

I began to feel scared. It was rapidly getting darker and I had no idea how far I was from the hotel. It could take me 10 minutes or 30 minutes. And what about the neighborhoods? How safe were they? And I was pissed at myself. I had no money for a cab, my cell phone battery was low, and anyway I didn't have the number of the hotel or the trip organizer. I was cold, thirsty, and hungry. I couldn't believe my total lack of preparation. I thought through the option of stopping at a store and asking for help to call the hotel, a taxi, anything. But with the minutes ticking by, I knew that would take time and simply making forward progress on foot would get me back faster. That is, as long as I was going in the right direction. 

Finally I hit Bute Street, a thoroughfare that I remembered was one of the cross streets near the hotel. I picked up my pace along Bute, crossing Nelson, Barclay, Haro, and (jackpot!) Robson Street. I was getting close, just two blocks from the hotel. With a hefty sigh of relief, I swung open the door of the hotel at 6:45, managed to shower and show up for the dinner bus with seconds to spare.

I was shaking and hungry, but very grateful for a long season of marathon training that gave me a big enough base to turn a 60-minute run with tempo intervals into 1:40 that I finished strong and safe.

Self portrait along the seawall on the north side of the park. I love the swervy effect. That's kind of how I felt by the end! You can see the mountains in the distance.