Race Recap: Marine Corps Marathon

On October 28, 2012, I ran my second marathon, the 37th Annual Marine Corps Marathon, in Washington, D.C.  The race was a unique blend of successes and disappointments.  A particularly daunting set of pre-race circumstances, plus wildly windy conditions in the second half of the course, brought on significant challenges, both physical and mental.

Bottom line:

After training for 18 weeks, following Pfitzinger's 55-70 miles per week schedule, I felt as prepared as I could make myself.  Unfortunately, I did not meet my ambitious A goal of 3:30, my B goal of 3:40, or even my C goal of 3:45.  On a positive note, though, I still set a PR, beating my first marathon time by over 7 minutes.  I also earned a time that qualified me to run the prestigious Boston Marathon (YAY!) in April, 2014.  I can further claim that I had a truly patriotic (albeit painful) marathon experience.

Official results:

A few other race stats:

Overall:  top 14.8%
Women:  top 8.1%
45-49 Age Group:  top 6.5%


If you want the long, drawn-out, full-blown story, read on!

Pre-race drama:

I definitely learned a few lessons about marathons in a most painful way.  First, it is not wise to try to combine a family vacation with running a marathon.  One of the ways I rationalized the expense of this race was to turn it into some grand educational field trip for the whole family.  We left early on a Wednesday morning from Atlanta, drove 10.5 hours to Harper's Ferry, WV, took a walking ghost tour that night, and then stayed in a nearby hotel.  The next morning we visited Antietam Battlefield, MD where we took another walking tour, and then headed DC for the pre-race expo and finally to our hotel in Fairfax.  The next two days were spent at the Newseum and the National Museum of Natural History.  One night we drove out to Ashburn for dinner with cousins and the other we met up with two friends from high school for dinner at a restaurant in Alexandria.  In total, we stayed at three different hotels over four nights.

Second, it is not wise to do a lot of walking and running in the days leading up to a race, especially when you don't know the area.  In addition to walking around in Harper's Ferry during the ghost tour, I did a four-mile shake-out run the next morning without having surveyed the terrain ahead of time.  After I set out, I spotted a sign noting a 7% grade for the next mile or so.  I managed to run up and down the long hill without too much problem, but it may have cost me in terms of sore muscles.  Either that tackling that hill, or the making the hike up and down a watch tower at the battlefield, or the hours I spent walking around DC museums (or possibly a combination of the three) left me with unexpectedly sore quads the afternoon before the race.  That soreness would certainly plague me later.

The expo:

Here's a photo from the expo where I was pointing to the goal!

I'm proudly showing off my original race number.  Little did I know...

The kids had so much fun at the expo.  It was like pre-race trick-or-treating for them,
and we came back with a fully loaded bag of loot.

Third, it is certainly not wise to pack so much into said vacation that you get distracted and forget things. This   very thought dawned on me when I was setting out my race things at 9pm the night before the marathon.  To my horror, I discovered my race bib was missing!  I frantically tried to recall where I had placed it after I left the expo.  My husband reminded me that I had put it under a lamp at the prior hotel to (of all the stupid things) smooth out the wrinkles.  Ugh!!  Although the hotel was 45 minutes away, I figured I could still drive back out to Fairfax to retrieve it.  A call to the hotel, though, confirmed my worst fears.  The bib was toast.  It didn't take long for panic, and then despair, to grip me.  I had unwittingly sabotaged my chance to run this race after 18 weeks of training, after paying $92 for a race number, and after dragging the whole family up to DC.  I had no one to blame but myself.  Tears ensued, and then I just ached.  I thought of all the friends and family who had been so supportive and who were cheering me on.  I couldn't bear to post the bad news on Facebook that night.

I didn't even lay down until after midnight.  Although I figured it was pointless to have hope, I still wanted to go to the start line and just see if there was a chance...  I laid out a few things and set my alarm for 4:30 so I could leave by 5:15.  I hardly slept a wink and had tortured nightmares when I did.  For whatever crazy reason, my alarm did NOT go off at 4:30.  Since I was laying there mostly awake, I drearily glanced over at my clock.  It was 5:03!!  I leaped out of bed.  With 12 minutes to get ready, I frantically slathered up and got dressed while my husband stirred up a quick bowl of oatmeal for me.  After choking down what I could, I seized my race bag and flew out the door.  I faced a 0.6 mile walk to reach the Metro.

Then, about half way to the station, my phone rang.  I had left my Garmin!  In yet another frantic dash, I sprinted back to the room, grabbed the watch, and then sprinted all the way to the Metro.  Yes, folks, I was certainly awake by then!  There, I met up again with my two friends from high school.  Steve was running his first marathon that day, and Jonathan, an absolute saint, had driven down from Wilmington, DE, just to cheer us on.

Steve, Jonathan, and I met up the afternoon before and took this shot at the Washington Monument.

I laid the news on them and they commiserated with me.  Such sad thoughts ran through my mind.  I was really, really, really down on myself at that point.  Still, we rode the Metro and walked solemnly into the runners village.  Jonathan quickly scouted out a tent that looked promising.  We entered, and a nice female marine smiled up at me.  I humbly presented my case, along with my ID, my number confirmation e-mail, and a patch I had received at the expo.  I was even prepared to show her the photo on my phone where I was holding my original bib.  Then, I almost fell on the floor when I heard her utter the words, "NO PROBLEM!!!!"  She simply retrieved a bib from her secret stash, attached my information to it electronically, and wished me well!  It was so stinking easy that I was flabbergasted.

I can't even explain how this revelation gripped me.  It required a paradigm shift in my thinking!  I walked over to Jonathan and Steve in stunned happiness.  I was going to run!  Processing that thought completely never really happened, I'm sure.  I was pretty much on auto-pilot until race time.  We found the restrooms and water, sat for a few minutes shivering in the brisk wind, and laughed over stories of high school grad night at Disney World.  In no time at all, we headed over to the corrals to get lined up.

Not far from the start line was the 3:30 corral.  There were pacers for those aiming for 3:25 and 3:35, but none for 3:30.  I just lined up with the 3:25 guy, but did not make any plans to stay with him.  The wind was already blowing then, but at least the temperature was pretty much ideal, and not a drop of rain fell.

Hanging out in the start corral with the wind whipping around me

I have not even mentioned up to this point the fact that Hurricane Sandy had been expected for almost a week.  For some perspective, I ran my first marathon through a severe thunderstorm that offered up heavy wind, rain, thunder, lightning, mud puddles, and a tornado siren.  When I saw that the chances were good for another stormy marathon, I was furious at first, but then I resigned myself to the inevitable.  Friends jokingly asked me to remind them not to sign up for any marathons in the same places where *I* would be running!  Others suggested I should change the spelling of my name to "Gale!"  Yet another friend sent me this from Newton Running to give me a laugh!

Yet, with all the hype, we ended up beating the main thrust of the storm.  A day later, though, and there would have been no race at all.  Sandy proved to be a mighty storm.

First half of the race:

My first half was actually fairly smooth, and I stayed on track to achieve the anticipated 3:30 finish.  As we started off, I knew I would face a hill in the first couple of miles and another at miles 7 and 8.  Therefore, I kept my pacing nice and easy up the first hill.  Even though the road was fairly crowded, I never felt the need to waste energy dodging anyone.  I had planned to make up some time going down the hill (as I have been so successful doing in the past), but as soon as I reached that point I was seized by two side stitches.  Each pounding step made them worse.  Reluctantly, I checked my pace and instead focused on using deep, measured  breathing and a gentle step to get rid of the stitches.

At that point, we had reached some woods.  On either side, I couldn't help but notice dozens of guys facing away, stopping to relieve themselves.  It was funny how completely still they looked compared to everyone around who was moving rapidly around the lake.  Shortly after that, I passed a wheelchair racer who was struggling.  After wishing him well, I moved on and tried to fall into a rhythm.  My fastest mile was mile 6, where I clocked in at 7:41.  My first 10K split of 49:46 was only 4 seconds off my goal!  In the back of my mind, though, I sort of grudgingly felt that my "easy" pace should have actually felt a little easier, especially with less than a fourth of the journey completed.  The hill at mile 7 was a bit steeper and longer than the first hill had been.  I definitely felt a push in making it up that one.  However, I still managed to maintain my pace and was able to rest a bit on the back side of it.  I kept checking my watch and reminding myself to slow down.  In checking times, I see that I did a pretty good job at staying just over or under the 8:00 prescribed pace for the next few miles.

At mile 12, I saw a guy who had been nearby at the start of the race.  He complimented me for keeping such a steady pace and mentioned that he had seen me 7 or 8 times.  I never saw him after that, however.  I did spy my friend, Jonathon, smiling a waving to me from one of the bridges soon afterward, and the bands started picking up then too.  One band was playing "Gangnam Style," and I could tell it was a big crowd-pleaser.

Unfortunately, somewhere in that 13th mile the wind started picking up.  I allowed myself a brief 20-step walk even though I really resented doing it.  I vaguely recall noting at the halfway point that my time was 1:47:09 as opposed to my goal of just under 1:45.  At a little over 2 minutes off my goal, I still knew in the back of my mind I was doing my best, and so I tried to ignore my watch from then on.  Just before mile 13, I stopped and picked up a chocolate Gu packet, hoping it would give me a little energy.  My mouth was far drier than I had expected, and I couldn't wait to hit the next water station.

Second half of the race:

Unfortunately, things went rapidly downhill in the second half.  The wind was fierce in miles 13 and 14, and my pace was 8:46 and 9:00 in those two miles.  At least there were many funny signs to help distract the runners from their pains.  One said, "Smile if you are chafing."  I count myself very fortunate to have encountered very little chafing through the whole race even with minimal Glide hastily applied.  I also felt lucky to have sustained no blistered or purple toenails.


I knew that my pace was slipping with each consecutive mile, but I just felt really tired.  By mile 17, a friendly guy reminded me, "You only have a 5K and a 10K to go.  Run the 5K first."  I so badly wanted to stick by him for the whole rest of the race.  His pace wasn't all that much faster than mine was, but I just couldn't go any faster.  We were running toward the capitol building at that point, and I did rally a bit with the excitement  of approaching that landmark and the photographers everywhere snapping shots.

Brief exhilaration at passing the capitol

Just around the corner, though, at about mile 19, we hit a long, yucky, straight, slightly uphill stretch along a very boring road.  My quads began to ache terribly.  Strangely, I also became incredibly sleepy.  Who ever heard of being sleepy when you're in that much pain??!  However, I remember sort of closing my eyes a couple times and feeling like I was in the middle of a nightmare.  The lack of sleep the night before and also the prior nights had certainly caught up with me.  I checked my watch and decided I could still be very happy with a 3:45 finish.  Alas, even that was not meant to be.  I started walking...a lot.  Then I started crying.  My mental stash of happy thoughts completely left me.  My quads ached terribly.  The wind was whipping something fierce and blowing me around like a twig.

I may look rough, but check out the middle guy!

I think these may have been the two ladies!

In one of my darkest moments, I spotted two female marines standing on the sidelines cheering. They seemed to sense my distress.  Then, to my utter amazement, these two angels flew to my aid!  One got on either side of me and they ran along with me for at least a quarter of a mile.  During that whole time they said incredibly encouraging things.  Of course, that made me cry even more!  I smiled through the tears, though, and pushed on.  Miles 24 and 25 were a dismal 10:55 and 11:00.  I remember stopping for a moment and trying to stretch my legs a little.  I could tell that others were suffering too.  Those miles were even worse than in my first marathon.  That's where my last hope of a 3:45 was squashed for good.

With just over a mile to go, I mustered up everything I had in me to at least try to make a good showing at the finish line.  Mile 26 was a tiny bit faster at 9:40.  The last 0.2 miles were up a hill, but the crowds of marines on either side were so intensely cheering, there was no chance anyone could have walked up that!  I saw the finish balloon and almost collapsed with relief in finally making it.  It was not the finish I usually experience in a half marathon, where I'm completely out of breath and a little light-headed.  Instead it was one where I was exhausted and in so much pain in my legs and feet that the whole thing felt like a dream - a very bad one.

You can see me cross the finish line in this video.  Scroll to just before 3 minutes and 40 seconds.  Then look on the right side of the screen.  I come across within the next 3 seconds after that.

A look of total exhaustion and despair

Receiving my finisher medal

I went through the finish gates with that "agony of defeat" look, and I tried not to look at the clock.  The tiny ray of light was the fact that at least I had beat my first marathon time and I had beat 4 hours.  When I saw the marine waiting to put the finisher metal around my neck, I cried yet again.  Then I went through a long receiving line shaking hands and trying to smile.  I was so tired that I didn't even manage to get a photo in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial or get my finisher jacket.

My mind was focused solely on getting my post-race rations and getting to the massage table where I was to meet up with my family and Jonathan.  I hobbled along in that tell-tale shuffle that only a fellow marathoners fully understands.

OH my aching quads!

Relief washed over me when I saw that there was practically no wait for a massage.  I honestly have never hurt so badly.  I don't know if it was all the walking at the museums, or the steps of the tower I climbed, or a combination of everything, but I just hurt.  I flopped my weary body down on the table and groaned with relief as the capable hands of the masseuse worked on my calves, quads, hammies, and glutes.

Soon after that, I met up with Jonathan, who gave me a warm jacket and 4 Advil.  I was starting to get cold.  My family then arrived and gave me hugs.  After that, we had a long Metro ride, a quick shower, and a 10.5 hour car trip back to Atlanta, where I fell into bed at 2am, thoroughly exhausted.

My family and I pose in the hotel before we head out

Steve and I celebrate by showing off our beautiful, shiny finisher medals

Not defeated in the least in spite of everything, I was already plotting my re-match plans in the car on the way home.  On the books so far is the Tallahassee Marathon on February 3.  This one will be in my home town on a nice and flat course.  I also have a friend who is also aiming for that elusive 3:30, and might run with me.  The post-race recovery is already killing me and I am chomping at the bit to hit the trail again!

What a difference a year makes!

"Before" May 2011                  "After" July 2012

I experienced a transformation...

There's something so rewarding about dredging up a photo of the not-so-skinny "old" you and comparing it to the photo of the much-more-fit "new" you.  It can really be somewhat of a shock.. You forget that you used to duck behind a family member or avoid the camera completely.  You forget that it used to be hard to run even three miles.  All the work to get to the "now" place suddenly seems like such an excellent investment in time and effort.

In May 2011, at age 43, I weighed 132 pounds and could barely run three miles at 10:30 minute/mile pace. While I was not hugely overweight, I was feeling tired more often than I should.  I often enjoyed hot wings and wine with the girls more than I should, and had sort of resigned myself to living the typical life of middle-aged housewife.  Over the years, I have had many yo-yo diets, and the thing I feared most was reaching the goal weight.  Somehow, I could never maintain that goal weight once I had achieved it.  It required such a delicate balance of calories and exercise.

Five months after I started eating better and running more, I celebrated my 44th birthday. I had in that span of time whittled my weight down by twenty pounds to 112. I had also conquered my first 20-mile long training run and had completed a half marathon. Luckily for me, those successes made me want even more.

Today, now roughly 14 months since the "before" photo was taken, I can boast having run two marathons, four half marathons, and several 5 and 10Ks, all while keeping the weight off and building some halfway decent muscle tone in my legs.

Many have asked,

"What brought on the initial desire to change, and what made you able to succeed in reaching and maintaining your goal weight?" 


It's hard to say, exactly.  Here are my thoughts.


Falling in love with running...

Back in March 2011, I started my annual training for the world's largest 10K race, The Peachtree Road Race, held on July 4th every year. I was definitely what you would call a casual, seasonal runner. Each year, within a month of completing this race, my zeal for running would rapidly wither, and I would find myself looking forward to Fall, at which point I could hide behind bigger, baggier clothes.

Two months later Spring training started, my friend developed some back issues, so I was left to tackle the remaining month and a half of 10K training by myself. One issue that has always plagued me is my ability to pace myself. Inevitably, I would try to run too fast, and therefore would burn out quickly and start to dread training. It just seemed too hard and I ended up feeling defeated and inadequate as a runner.  I was determined not to fall into that same trap for yet another year.

Armed with a newly-purchased Couch to 5K iphone app, I boldly headed out for the nearby Silver Comet Trail, a long, paved path, built on an old railroad track.  Frequented by plenty of morning dog walkers and lined with beautiful foliage, it was a perfect place to train. I attempted to follow the app's voice commands, running and then walking as directed. Along the way, I made several new running friends, all of whom really encouraged me. Within a few weeks, the walking part was gone and I could make it six miles without walking. I won't say it was easy. Every run still seemed to take all I had to give.

My initial training goal was to run the Peachtree in under an hour, something I had not been able to do in the past two years. In spite of running 20-25 miles per week, though, I only managed a 1:02 on the race. That did not break my confidence, however.  I kept the pace slow, but started trying to go for longer runs. I also signed up for my first half marathon to give my training a new goal.

Longer runs, in turn, became even longer. At this point, my speed was still nice and slow. Because the pace was manageable, though, the increased miles did not seem as taxing. By late December, I braced myself and signed up for a full marathon. From there, I trained and got faster and stronger and more in love with running!  Other blog posts outline much of this process.


The desire to eat right...

I knew that running would help me lose weight, but I wanted to develop and maintain a healthy diet as well.  I faced the typical issues: emotional eating, lack of portion control, and not enough fruits and veggies in the diet. I found a wonderful company called Fresh n' Fit Cuisine that prepares, cooks, and delivers half a week's worth of meals (three meals a day) to a location where it's convenient for me to pick them up twice each week.

The meals are all freshly prepared, counted to exactly 1200 calories per day, and designed to meet the guidelines of The American Heart Association and every other national health guideline imaginable.  All I have to do is open, heat, and eat!  They are delicious, and eating them ensures I get my daily dose of fruits and vegetables.  I've had to supplement these base calories some since I lost down to my goal weight, but the plan certainly provides an excellent nutritional base.  I have stuck with this plan so long that the company asked me to send photos and write a testimonial for their web site.

I feel very satisfied to have reached this point of health and fitness.  It has taken a lot of hard work, but now eating well and running are a part of my lifestyle.  I used to lose weight and then gain it back when the stresses of life took over.  Now, I really do not fear slipping back into the lifestyle I had before.  This seems to be a permanent change and I like it very much!


Success feeds success...

It's really hard to take that first step to leading a healthier lifestyle.  Then the journey begins.  At first, determination and enthusiasm kick in to help the process along.  However, inevitably, the first slump hits.  Either the scale disappoints in spite of diligent efforts, or a weak moment or stressful situation occurs.  While these can be some dark moments, this is the most crucial time to stick with the plan.  It has been the breaking point for me more than once before.  My advice is to call a friend when you are in a weak spot.  If you can make it through the moment/hour/day, you'll find that the next low point is not as bad.

If you can successfully make it past this hump where every molecule in your body is resisting, though, you find that all the sudden, a huge breakthrough has been made.  The scale shows it, your jeans show it, and eventually, comments from friends confirm it.  This success helps pave the way for even more.  By losing weight in a slower, very controlled way, you reap the benefits of building in changed habits over a longer period of time, which helps ensure they will stay in place when the goal weight is reached.  Today, I give myself plus or minus a two-pound range.  If I go outside that range, then I alter my diet over the next few days, and it's easy to get back into range.  I have both diet and exercise as tools to help me avoid variances.

Today, I enjoy a few extra treats (mint chip Klondike bars being my recent favorite), but I try to ensure I eat all the healthy calories before going to these extras.  That makes me less likely to overeat the junk.  It's easy to feel alone and insecure and even frustrated when trying to lose weight.

I am in no way an expert on running or nutrition.  I just thought sharing my own story might be motivational to others.  It's not an easy path to good health, but nothing really good comes easy!

Race Report: Peachtree Road Race 10K

The alarm sounded at 4:30am, causing me to practically leap from the bed. I have learned never to snooze thereby allowing my sleep-craving mind get the better of the plan I had conceived the night before. As I pinned on my race bib, I reflected with much delight that I was about to run my 20th Peachtree Road Race. That prospect was exciting enough, but I also had the almost unbelievable pleasure of finally earning a place in Time Group A. I was going to get to "play with the big kids" today!

For those of you who might be unfamiliar with this race, it is touted as the world's largest 10K race, providing 60,000 runners the exciting opportunity to run off their morning calories before they race off to enjoy their annual 4th of July family BBQs and fireworks. Very crowded and most times exceedingly humid, this race is not billed as one of the fastest. However, it certainly offers a great variety of music, a multitude of cheering fans, frequent beer and doughnut stops for those so inclined, and motivational posters to boost runners' confidence as they make their way to Piedmont Park where they will receive their coveted Peachtree Road Race tee-shirt.

Pre-race:

My husband, Rob, earned a spot in Time Group A too (as he does every year), so we planned to leave early in order to get to our corral by the 7:30 start time. Our annual routine is to drive from our home in Smyrna to the MARTA station at Perimeter Mall. From there, we ride the train to the Buckhead stop, and we emerge with the hundreds of other runners to make our way up Peachtree Street.

This year, we were lucky enough to have an invitation to visit with my friend, Elise, and her husband, who had booked a room at the Westin. Not only did we get to meet up with several members of the Adventure Runners group, including Elise, Isabel, Sang, Rob, Marius, and Karen, but we also had the rare benefit of pre-race indoor plumbing.






We took a few pre-dawn group photos at the hotel, and then made our way to the corrals. I was delighted that every one of us was in Time Group A (except Marius, who even qualified to be sub-seeded). Somewhere along the way through the Peachtree crowds, I managed to lose track of everyone except Sang and Rob. I was really excited, though, to have my super-speedy friend, Rachelle, join me near the front of our corral. As we waited for the start, I could tell Sang and Rob were a little nervous. It was the first Peachtree for each of them, and I knew they would sort of be racing each other. I told them I wasn't sure who I was putting my money on.

Race details:

As the gun went off, it only took about 25 seconds for our group to pass the starting line. Rachelle and I sped off together as best we could, given the massive crowds of runners. We had to do a bit of dodging, but at least no one in front of us was going too slowly. It dawned on me right about that time that I had not quite taken in enough water right before the race. As much as I dreaded it, I knew I was going to have to grab some water at the first station. As soon as we could, the two of us settled into a nice race speed, hitting the Mile 1 mark at 7:25. Although the temperature was a relatively comfortable 71 degrees, the humidity was an oppressive 94%. I felt every bit of moisture in the air! I was already wiping sweat from my brow and wishing I had gills.

Shortly into Mile 2, some guy must have lost his balance or something because he flat-out shoved both Rachelle and me! We both came very close to losing our balance and we shouted at him. It shook us both up a bit. The thought of almost falling stayed with me for the whole rest of the race. A short time later, I managed to swipe a few sips of water at the station and then catch back up to Rachelle.

Miles 2 and 3 are very nicely downhill and we took full advantage of the slope. Our paces on these miles were a very speedy 7:03 and 7:01, respectively. This is a faster pace than I had planned, but I figured the time saved would allow me to take the hills in the second half at a slower pace and still keep a strong overall race pace. Amazingly, Rachelle talked to me a good bit. She seemed to have energy to spare! Meanwhile, I was growing concerned that I was more tired than I should be before even hitting the first hill. I mumbled monosyllabic responses and matched her pace.

Just before Mile 4, we faced the beginning of what is known as Cardiac Hill. It is the steepest incline of the race. I was mentally prepared, though. We both slowed just slightly as we headed up. My lungs were working harder, but I knew I could make it up the hill. As soon as it flattened out a bit I felt a little better. Mile 4 was a bit slower at 7:48. However, I realized I could no longer keep even that pace. Reluctantly, I fell back and wished Rachelle well. As I glanced at my Garmin watch I noticed that somehow it was jammed so I could not determine my pace. It's very tough to gauge the pace without this valuable instrument. I knew I was totally on my own until the end. Only when I got home, was I able to retrieve the data.

This is the point in the race where things sort of fell apart. Usually, in every race there comes a point where my mind starts the negotiation process. It begs me to have mercy on my lungs, but it also remembers that pain is temporary (while names and race times on the internet are permanent - ha,ha!). This point usually comes for me in the last mile of a race, where it's just a matter of enduring a minute or two longer before being done. In this race, though, I was already very tired and the feeling unfortunately came too early.

In the Peachtree course, there is little to no break after Cardiac Hill before runners approach another series of less steep, but longer inclines. My heart was racing as I went into this incline, and I started to get that graying around the edges feeling like I got last year. Fortunately, I am a much stronger athlete this year, and much more sensible as to how to handle that feeling. I felt no shame (well, very little) as I stopped to walk past the next water station. I knew it was vital to catch my breath and slow down my heart a little. When I started back, my pace was slower. Mile 5 was a dismal 8:27. Everything is relative, though, because last year's average pace was 10:09! A photographer managed to get what I'm sure is a horrendous scowl from me somewhere along this stretch.

Somehow, I rallied in the last mile and sprinted toward the finish line. My pace was 7:52 for Mile 6. It included the end of the hills, a little bit of flat, and then a slight decline toward the end. I tried to appear speedier than I felt for the cameras at Mile 6, and I pushed hard to shave off a few extra seconds at the end. I was pleased to know that I was going to be just fine after the race, not white as a sheet like I was last year.

Thanks to Elise's husband, Dave, for catching this shot of me in action!

I learned later in the afternoon that my official time was 47:30, an average pace of 7:38. While it was not a PR for a 10K race, it beat my previous Peachtree time by a whopping 15 minutes. I'd call that a smashing success! It also re-earned me a spot in the Time Group A for next year. I came in 39 out of 3,771 in my 40-44 age group (top 1%), 336 out of 28,656 of all women (top 1%), and 2,259 out of 57,754 (top 4%) overall. Truly, a year of training has made a huge difference in my running. It has also made a huge difference in my life!

Post-race:

I grabbed a bottle of water and collected my race bag which contained the coveted tee shirt. This shirt will make a total of 20, and I plan to have all of them made into a quilt this year. Next, I headed over to the A balloon where I planned to meet about 12 friends. It was so nice not to have to fight through huge crowds as I have in prior years. Rob Campos and Sang were there already. Soon afterward, my husband, Rob, joined us. I was surprised I had actually beat him this year. I never thought I would see the day! I guess running 50 miles a week does have its benefits!

We were joined by Elise, Isabel, Tad, Mike, Tom, and Della as well. After a few group photos, we decided to take a few shots of our pretty shoes - love the Summer colors! A little later, we saw Marius, Karen, and their friend, Bert. Also, Bill left the ATC tent say hi.

I was thrilled to finally catch up with a sorority sister and fellow Running Divas friend, Laura, who was there with her son. We have not seen each other for years! She is a such a great runner and a true inspiration.  She ran her first marathon the day after I ran mine.  Now we are both training for Fall marathons.  She introduced me to Shane, also a Diva.  Just after they left, I ran into a third Diva, Michelle, who had on a great red, white, and blue ensemble!

This event almost felt like a reunion of sorts. We had so much fun and saw so many great running friends! On the way out, Rob and I collected peanuts, Popsicles, bananas, Gatorade, and the most delicious peaches I ever put in my mouth. Unlike other years, walking the mile to the MARTA station did not seem hard at all. It was a truly wonderful morning and a Peachtree Road Race experience I will never forget!

Monthly Recap & Goals - May

Eek!  It has been over a month since I have posted, and a lot has happened since then.  However, I want to at least address progress toward goals for the month of May before I dive into two more exciting race reports for June.

May Highlights: 

• Total miles run: 205.71 miles (first time with over 200 miles in a month!)
• Total number of workouts: 24
• Fastest training run: 6 miles in 44:54 (7:29 pace) on May 17
• Longest training run: 16.07 miles run in 2:11:35 (8:11 pace) on May 19
• Race: Twisted Ankle Trail Marathon in 5:43:01 (13:06 pace

I also had a record 60-mile week right after the Twisted Ankle, so, even though my pace was very slow, I was able to recover from a 26.2-mile run with relative ease.

Meanwhile, I also decided to bump up my annual mileage goal from 1500 miles to 1800 miles.  I honestly think I might hit 2000, but I'd rather have some padding just in case I sustain a minor injury along the way.

This month I have really enjoyed running with several friends: Cyrille, Sang, Rob C., Francis, Shawna, Katie, Elise, Isabel, Charlie, Libby, Danielle, Tom, and Paul.  They are all great athletes, and it has been wonderful getting to know each of them better!

Race Report: Twisted Ankle Marathon

Well folks, marathon number two is now in the bag!  I feel a great sense of accomplishment, and had an awesome time on this one.  The location of the race was Summerville, Georgia, just northwest of Rome, at James H. "Sloppy" Floyd State Park.  The race name: The Twisted Ankle!  The terrain was mostly trail, some of it very technical, and the course involved running up and down a mountain multiple times.  To give you an idea of what we were up against, here's an elevation chart:

Notice those two pointy things that look like sheer cliffs?  Well they are both the same monster, otherwise known as "Becky's Bluff."  We were treated to a lovely double-dose!  In order to fit the race all on state land, this year the race had to be re-routed.  Therefore, we ran a blue trail and then a red trail.  Then, we did these same two trails a second time (while trying not to look at the lucky half-ers who got to call it a day after only one time.

My Garmin did not quite make it to 26 miles.  However, the woods might have made it harder to pick up signal.  Also, my watch notoriously short-changes me on mileage, even on my usual route which is clearly and accurately marked to the quarter mile.

So, where to begin: the good, the bad, or the downright ugly?!  Let's just say, I'm very pleased that I pretty much met all my goals for this marathon.  They were as follows:

1. To NOT twist an ankle, bust a knee, or otherwise maim myself so that I could not run in the future
2. To run with friends
3. To have a really good time
4. To finish this beast of a race

Notice how "run fast" was not on the list?  That's because it would have very likely conflicted with #1 above.  I have deemed myself a true trail-running klutz.

Before I get into details, here are the stats from a web link comically listed as "Full crazies results"

• Time: 5:43:01
• Average Pace: 13:06/mile
• Age Group Place: 5/7
• Females: 15/27
• Overall: 71/107

Now, these numbers may look a little less than impressive, but I do believe the race director told us the night before that there were 56 females registered for the marathon.  SO...either 30 of them didn't show up, or quite a few didn't cross the finish line.  I know at least one lady who decided to cut it short.  This race was not for the feint of heart!

To see how I came to choose this marathon, please see my previous blog post titled Mountain Madness - Part I.  After driving up to North Carolina to visit my friend, Danielle, and run a half marathon with her, I was thrilled to have her come down here to run this one with me.  We enjoyed pizza for dinner the night before, and got all our stuff ready for the morning.

Sleep was kind to me and I managed to get a full night's rest.  However, I woke up nervous and fluttering.  The last words out of my husband's mouth were, "Break a leg!..um, er, I mean..."  On that happy note, we took off for the hour and a half drive to Summerville.  The ride did a lot toward calming our nerves.  Awaiting us were several friends.  Elise, Isabel, Charlie, and Max were running the half, while Tom, Paul, Danielle, and I were running the full.  Sweet Libby came out to cheer us on!

In stark contrast to my first stormy marathon (see the detailed race report), the weather was almost perfect, especially for mid-May.  Temps started at about 60 degrees with complete cloud cover.  Over the 5+ hours, they only rose to about 74, and we caught a nice breeze several times.  I was eternally grateful for that.

After a few final race instructions, we made a leisurely start of it.  We chuckled as the music played, "Another one bites the dust!" over the loud speaker.  Tom, Danielle, and I headed out together, laughing and chatting while the half marathoners took off at what seemed like a sprint.  We enjoyed watching the front of the pack runners glide around the opposite side of the lake from us.  They truly looked like a row of little ants on an important mission.

I carried my 23-oz. Camelbak "sippy cup" with me, filled with Gatorade.  I refilled that cup countless times over the course of the race and was glad to have every sip!  After rounding the lake, we took a right turn on a gravel road and started uphill.  Tom was cracking his usual jokes and keeping us very entertained (I know you're reading this, Tom!).  The race photographer was perched at a strategic location which we must have passed by at least 4 times.  It may have been more, but delirium prevents me from remembering.  Tom claimed that I deliberately blocked his photo opp. on the first lap, so he and Danielle conspired to hold their hands in front of my face for the second lap.  Ha!  I can't wait to see how those photos came out. By the last lap, we were acting quite silly.  Update: Sure enough...

After a bit, we ran past a campground where we could smell breakfast cooking.  Tom put in his order for bacon and eggs, but changed his mind when someone said they were making banana pancakes.  We constantly joked about how much more "fun" this was going to be the SECOND time around!  Unfortunately, by the second time we hit that spot breakfast was all packed up.  Along the way, I deemed it appropriate to conjure up 70s songs in my head and then sing them to entertain my friends.  Don't you wish you had been there?!  The only ones I can remember now is Jive Talkin' and Shake Your Booty.  Fun times.

Speaking of "shake your booty," this guy almost looks like he's mooning me behind the scenes before the race!  Could my goof-ball smile be the cause?

As we hit the many steep uphills, we slowed to a walk.  Then, we picked it back up again as soon as we got to the flat or downhill parts.  A few of the downward slopes were so severe that I had to plant my feet perpendicular to the ground and then shuffle them along to keep from sliding out of control.  Quickly we determined that I was faster at the flat or slightly uphill places, but that Danielle could easily smoke me in navigating all the downhills and the rough terrain.  Remember my number one goal about trying hard NOT to fall?

One place we seemed to pass an endless number of times was the Marble Mine.  Tom took this photo of Danielle and me.  We actually looked pretty fresh at this point.  Thank you, Danielle, for generously sharing your many race photos!

Near the end of the first 7-mile loop, we hit this thing called the firewall.  That was code for boulders, roots, logs, streams, and torturously steep slopes up and down.  Like a gazelle, Danielle, sauntered up and down and managed to get far enough ahead to take a couple shots of Tom and me as we stumbled and bumbled along.  On one of the hills I just stopped and had a little fake-sobbing pity party.  It felt good.

When you see this same shot close-up, you can kind of make out my look of despair as well as my pigeon-toed total lack of form.  Maybe this is why I fall so much...

Mile 8 was very tough as we headed toward Becky's Bluff.  Even the approach is rough.  By the time we got to that 0.6 miles of unbelievably steep grade, I had to stop for just a second to contemplate the slope.  I am eternally grateful for Tom's calm instructions of how to put one foot in front of the other and to give the front foot a rest each time.  Just the act of following his words helped take my mind off the pain.  Then, as Tom says, we would wobble along, kind of in a duck-like shuffle.

Just before mile 13, we listened to the cheers for all the half marathon finishers and tried not to feel too sorry for ourselves.  I actually stopped then for a very quick potty break since there was a flush toilet and no line.  Then we headed out for the second half of our adventure.  At least at this point, I was actually feeling pretty good.

As we got closer and closer to Becky's Bluff at mile 22, though, the hill just seemed to get steeper and steeper.  I took my first few steps up the bluff, and couldn't believe how tough it seemed.  I tried to use my hands to push my quads down for leverage, but they were so slimy from sweat that they just slipped right off.  At that point, I resorted to pulling on trees for support.  I would take five steps, cling to a tree, and look back.  Tom and another Daily Mile friend, Jeremy, were behind me.  Their faces reflected exactly what I was feeling.  I was moving so slowly that I was able to take note of several beetles on the ground.  I also remember thinking how beautifully the purple flowers looked and that they did not have to toil.  Then, I said a silent little prayer for strength, and plugged along.  That darn path just kept going forever!  It felt at least ten times harder the second time around.

When Tom and I reached the summit, I declared that was the hardest thing I had ever done in my whole life, including childbirth.  A guy sitting on a bench laughed and said I was at least the seventh person who had proclaimed those same words!

At least I knew the rest of the run would be relatively easy.  Little did I know that I was in for two last surprises.  I was running with a guy with roots in Tallahassee when we heard someone call out, "Snake!'  Upon hearing this, we cautiously navigated our way down the steep hill.  Finally we figured we were clear of the danger.  Without a thought, I trotted over a long, skinny, curved root.  Oops.  While I was in mid-air, the guy beside me shuffled to a complete stop trying to warn me.  Too late.  I looked back and saw that I had just jumped over an angry three-foot rattlesnake stretched right across the road!  My heart pounded as I looked back at it, and I tried to help my poor friend loosen up a muscle he had pulled in screeching to a stop.  Gulp.

My eyes were so wide open at that point that all I wanted to do was get to the finish line.  I knew I had less than two miles to go, so I hurried along.  Then it happened.  The FALL I had SO carefully avoided happened.  My legs were tired and I just got careless.  There was only gravel and a flat trail, but I had  somehow managed to fall...again.

I seem to be getting a tiny bit more skilled in falling because I instantly forced my body into a roll.  I laid there on my back with my legs in the air.  I looked up at the trees for just a moment and tried not to think.  Finally, the moment passed, and I pulled myself up, dusted off, and checked for injuries.  Thank goodness they were minor.  I had scraped my arm and shoulder up pretty bad, but the rest of me was fine.

I made a mad dash across the bridge and headed for the finish line.  I crossed it squealing with joy and flailing my arms about.  I'm sure it was a pretty amusing sight!  It was just so nice to finish with a tad bit of energy left.  I felt ten times better than I had at Albany.

After hitting the medical tent for some peroxide, scarfing down everything not nailed down, and posing for a couple of happy "after" shots, Danielle and I headed for the car where my pint of vanilla Haagen-Dazs was screaming for me!  Without even a feint twinge of guilt, I scooped/slurped it down.  Best thing I have EVER tasted!!