Prospect Park Track Club 5M Turkey Trot 2019

I’ve run this race every year since 2012 (though I missed 2015 due to a calcaneal stress fracture), and every year has yielded a PR… except for 2018.

2012: 39:45
2013: 38:03
2014: 37:52
2015: DNS
2016: 34:55
2017: 34:46
2018: 35:08

I tried to correct that failure to get a PR last year by running the QDR Toy Drive 5 Miler in December, and I did run 33:56, but the course was short, so it didn’t count. Finally, I had the chance to fix this.

Originally, I wanted to run 33:33, because I like the way it looks. But then I decided I may as well be aggressive and try for 32:30, because why not? If I completely fell apart, it shouldn’t matter too much: my PR was so soft, it was slower than HM pace. I could afford to mess up and still be able to salvage something out of it.

But three things happened.

Fourth windy race in a row! Oh joy. I’m getting really tired of this.

The digestive woes that plagued me at the Long Beach Turkey Trot 10K a few days ago are still around. It was bad enough that I actually did go see the doctor about it, which resulted in a referral, which will ultimately lead to the conclusion that you’ll just have to learn to live with it. I know that because I already went through this cycle in 2014.

And the third thing… the heel that I fractured back in 2015 was bugging me. This happens sometimes, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying. In fact, it happened before the C&D Canal Half Marathon, which is why I ended up wearing these shoes again.

I really wanted to wear a pair of 1400s, because I find it easier to run fast in them, but the Rebels are so much more cushioned in the heel that they feel better when my foot is being like this. Of course, it wouldn’t make a difference whether I wore a cushioned shoe if it was re-fractured, but I was clearly operating on the hope and assumption that it wasn’t.

And then I took off the tights I was wearing over my shorts. This is the first time I have ever run this Turkey Trot in shorts, and I was freezing my ass off before the start, but I’m glad I wasn’t wearing tights because that would have been way too hot and made the race even more uncomfortable.

Yeah, so, that weather widget? It’s wrong. If it’s a matter of debate whether the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade will be able to have their balloons flying due to high winds? It is ****ing windy! I took comfort in the fact that it was supposed to be a westerly wind since that’s the kindest possible direction for this course, but apparently that was wrong too, because it seemed more northerly. When we were running north. And a bit southerly when we were running south. You get the idea.

The horn sounded, off we went, and I could tell pretty much immediately that this race wasn’t going to go the way I wanted it to. I just never felt good. It wasn’t even my stomach, necessarily (oddly, that seems a lot more problematic when I’m running a cool down, which makes it look like running easy is worse) … it wasn’t that my legs hurt or wouldn’t turn over faster, because my cadence was still high. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t seem to move as fast as I wanted to. And this is very obvious, given that my average heart rate was 148. That is not a racing heart rate for me.

Linda took this photo a bit before the two-mile mark. I knew the hill was coming, and I knew that would slow me down some, and even though I’d be able to recoup a bit of that time later, it was pretty much a guarantee that I was not going to hit my A goal. I decided that there was no need to kill myself to get a tiny bit closer to it than I would otherwise — I should still be able to PR very easily.

So Oren passed me, and I didn’t even try to catch him. Which is something I totally would have done, had I not been feeling so off.

Photo by Alan Lawn

About two miles to go — I had just run the third mile at marathon pace, and I was not amused or impressed. My GPS looked like it was screwing up, too, which just added to my aggravation.

To further the whole I have no idea what was going on in this race thing, I managed to run the last two miles at close to my original goal pace, but I didn’t feel like I was working much harder than I already had been. I can’t figure any of this out.

When I finally saw the finish line clock, I realized I’d be able to finish in under 34:00 if I floored it, so I did. Too bad it wasn’t to finish in under 33:00, which is what I really wanted, but you can’t always get what you want when you want it.

The GPS overage kind of corrected itself — my watch had been measuring as much as a tenth of a mile ahead at a couple of the mile markers. So at least there’s that.

Garmin recorded 5.02 miles in 33:57, 6:46/mi. Which is a slower pace than the 10K I ran a few days ago, so, you know, that feels great.

Officially, 5 miles in 33:56, 6:47/mi. 91/2351 OA, 12/1318 F, and 1/233 F35-39. I fell short of my goal of placing in the top ten females, but that’s not something you really have any control over, so I’m not too upset about that. I’m not upset with my time either, exactly … sure, my PR was so soft that I should have been able to beat it with my eyes closed, but I am very well aware that this does not mean that is what will necessarily happen. So I’m glad that I did get the PR. I just wish it hadn’t felt so awful.

My heel seems to have come through okay, and I am beyond super thankful about that. But something just doesn’t feel right to me, and I don’t know why or what it is or how to fix it.

Maybe it’s because I had to go to a wedding on Tuesday night and am still so sleep-deprived from it that I can’t even think straight. Sure, I’ll blame it on that, why not?

 

Long Beach Turkey Trot 10K 2019

Even though I’ve already run a 10K PR this year, I figured it would be nice to pick up another one… so I registered for this race. My primary reason for doing so was because last year’s results showed a strong female field, which I hoped would help pull me to a PR, given how much I tend to suck at 10Ks.

But I didn’t register until the Friday before the race, at which point I already knew I was in for my third windy, wet, cold race in a row. So I’m not really sure why I registered anyway. I don’t know why I do half the things I do.

Sure enough, race day dawned wet, cold, windy, and dreary. I, of course, drove out to Long Beach anyway, since I had already paid to run this event, and I wasn’t physically incapacitated. (That’s only partly true; I don’t detail it because, no pun intended, no one gives a shit, but some days with IBS are uglier than others, and this was one of those.) Since I prefer driving east for races over west for the lack of tolls, I was surprised to find that I did have to drive over a toll bridge to get to Long Beach. Like, an actual toll. With a booth with a person inside to whom I had to hand cash. What is this, 1992?!

These was the lovely the conditions that greeted me when I arrived for bib pickup. Except that it was not cloudy — it was raining. Which meant I had to wear a visor. You can be sure I pulled the tab on that really tight (I gave myself a headache) so that it wouldn’t fly off my head again!

It was chilly, so I wore sweatpants over what I thought were ill-advised shorts. I knew I’d regret wearing tights after a couple of miles of running, but I was not excited about taking the pants off.

I did, however, have the foresight to slather my legs in Aquaphor. I may as well have bathed in it.

It was lightly raining at the start. I had run a short warmup in a garbage bag, so I was pretty dry, though my feet were already uncomfortably wet. The warmup was shorter than I would have liked (see: digestive issues), and I was more than a little concerned about hitting the pace I wanted to hit given how terrible I felt and that it was pretty windy.

At least it wasn’t a straight out-and-back course, so there were reprieves from running into a headwind. The value of that is incalculable. If the forecast was correct (which is shockingly was), we’d have a headwind for the first two miles and the fourth, and a crosswind or tailwind the rest of the time. Not the worst thing ever.

Just before the gun, I realized there was no timing mat at the start. I was close enough to the front that this wouldn’t make more than one or two seconds’ difference, but it still annoyed me.

And then we started to run, and it only took about two minutes for me to get a strong feeling of déjà vu, because the puker from the 2017 PPTC Turkey Trot was running this race too, and pulling the same crap he did then. Except this time, there was no bike lane with two-wheeled contraptions to run me over, so when he elbowed his way too close to me, I was able to move away along the boardwalk. But eventually I would have run out of boardwalk, so I had no choice but to speed up and get away from him. Why he would want to flame out like that in the first mile by pulling that kind of crap, I do not know, but people are weird.

I wasn’t thrilled about having to run that fast into the wind, and my second mile shows it. Luckily, we then turned off the boardwalk and ran in the opposite direction. Just after the turn, I passed two guys, one of whom was making some very scary sounds. I guess some people are just noisy runners, but he was panting and gasping and groaning in such a way that one should probably not be doing less than halfway through a race. More motivation to speed up: must get away from that noise.

At some point, the rain stopped. It was still muggy and cloudy and dreary and disgusting, but I pulled up my sleeves because the base layer I was wearing under my singlet was definitely too warm for the conditions. This was when I was glad to have worn shorts!

I passed the 5K mark in under 21:00, which meant I was on pace for a PR. Not exactly the one I was going for, but a PR is still a PR, so there’s that. There was someone calling splits at the turn back into the wind, which I evidently passed in 21:56, but I have no idea exactly what distance that was so it seemed a little silly.

A bit after that, someone showed up behind me. And when I say behind me, I mean behind me. Look, I don’t mind if someone wants to draft off me, but A. it would be nice if you, I don’t know, said something instead of sneaking up on me, and B. stayed a couple of feet back instead of a couple of inches. This annoyed me so much that I ran a bit on a diagonal to shake him off, and then picked up my pace until he wasn’t drafting off me anymore. Because I’m mean like that.

My original goal was obviously not going to happen, especially as I was realizing my watch was measuring longer than I’d thought — I had expected 6.25, and it was looking like it would be closer to 6.3 — but I had to hang onto the PR or I’d hate myself forever.

I did get a PR. A small one, but a PR is a PR!

6.31 miles. Why??

Ha. That’s a bit closer to what I would have wanted to run, although still not quite there.

Garmin recorded 6.31 miles in 41:49, 6:37/mi.

Officially, 6.2 miles in 41:47, 6:44/mi. 19/264 OA, and 1/21 F35-39. I was actually second female overall, but this race only does awards for top male and female finisher, and then AG awards four deep.

So much for being drawn by the fast women’s field: I guess they all decided to stay in bed when they saw the weather. Also of note: I positive split by 1.06 second. AUGH!

After the race, I attempted to do a cool down run. I mean, I did do one, but it was not at all comfortable since my stomach was trying to kill me. You would think something that feels like a stitch would stop once you stop running, but instead I literally doubled over in agony because it hurt so bad, at which point I decided I probably ought to get this checked out because it is certainly not normal.

Fun times. How I ran a fifteen-second PR like that, I do not know. I guess I’m lucky it wasn’t that bad during the race itself.

 

C&D Canal Half Marathon 2019

When I decided to attempt a monthly half marathon this year, I anticipated some difficulty in finding summer races. I did not expect it to be so hard at the end of the year! (Admittedly, it wouldn’t be quite so complex, except that I need a race that is on a Sunday, and that also doesn’t require me to patronize a company I don’t want to patronize.)

Which is how I found myself paying $75.63 for a November half marathon 130 miles away, and more or less matching that expenditure in gas and tolls. That’s not to mention the ridiculously early hour at which I had to leave. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall asleep behind the wheel, it really is. Long distance driving is just not for me. All of which is a pity because it’s nice to run somewhere different once in a while.

Anyway, since I knew I was going to be doing this race (despite not registering until the Friday prior), I had initially been considering it as a PR attempt since it looked like a good course for that.

Oh, why not?

But then I took two weeks off after the marathon, and you would think that I’d feel all fresh and bouncy upon coming back to running, but that is not what happened. Instead I felt like I had never run before in my entire life, and like every bit of speed I may have ever possessed went on vacation. Clearly, I am not anywhere near fully recovered from the marathon, and so I wasn’t expecting to even be able to hit marathon pace. Especially after I saw the forecast.

That is a headwind on the second half of an out-and-back course. A replica of the marathon! Only swapping freezing cold for rain. I think I’d prefer a warm rain. I really do not do well in cold. At all. And for some reason, I have been inexplicably exhausted for the past week or two — even though I am sleeping, for a change! If you consider “passed out from sheer fatigue” to be interchangeable with “sleeping,” anyway.

I arrived at the middle school parking lot around 7:15 and hopped on a shuttle bus for the two-minute ride to the start area. Of course, I forgot my sunglasses in the car, so it’s a good thing it was mostly cloudy for much of the race. There was enough time for multiple bathroom trips, which is very important because cold diuresis is a real thing. During one of those trips, I took off my singlet to put on another long-sleeved shirt over the base layer I was already wearing. It was just so cold!

Despite knowing that I warm up eventually once I start running, I fully expected to run the entire race wrapped in my heat sheet, so I was glad it wasn’t one of those super crinkly ones, because the sound of the softer foil is annoying enough.

Pretty much from the get-go, I was the second place female. There was another woman close behind me for the first mile or two, but after that the herd thinned out. I was never running completely alone, and I never lost sight of the lead female, but I just didn’t feel like it was prudent to kill myself trying to catch her. My body will bounce back from the marathon when it wants to bounce back, and while I can’t really do much to speed up the process, I can certainly do a lot to derail it, so I decided to just focus on keeping my effort steady.

After a couple of miles, I finally warmed up enough to take off the heat sheet. Which I then had to carry in my hand, because there were no garbage cans in which to dispose of it, and I despise littering; so I held onto it until the mile 4 water station. Somewhere between mile 2 and mile 4, then, is when something flew into my eye, because I was still carrying the heat sheet. Whatever it was flew into my right eye, so thank goodness for Lasik, because without that I’d have been running blind.

There was a bit of a climb up to the marina and the turnaround point, but it wasn’t anything terrible. The worse part, which I expected, was the wind. Knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it any more bearable. (Though maybe it does. A guy running behind me told me later that the headwind in the last couple of miles “broke” him. I wouldn’t say it broke me… it just slowed me down.)

Also unpleasant was the fact that I had to take a gel without water, because I couldn’t get to the table since there were runners going the other way between it and me when I was on my way back. Not that I’d have gotten much anyway… this race uses plastic cups. I hate that. At least some of the stations used the softer plastic, which won’t crack if you even just think about pinching it, but still.

Once I was far enough into the race that there were no more outbound runners going the other way, it got pretty lonely. It really did feel like a repeat of the marathon… running alone into a terrible headwind for the last couple of miles. I really wanted to at least finish faster than my first half of the marathon, and it seemed silly to push for that in some random race that really didn’t mean anything, but it was frustrating that I was easily on pace for that anyway until that dumb wind. Said dumb wind made me glad I was wearing that second base layer, even though I had been feeling a little warm a few miles prior.

The last tenth of a mile seemed far longer, but I made it. Barely!

Before Staten Island, this would have been a PR. And now I’m just like, well, at least it’s faster than marathon pace. Which is kind of funny to me.

Garmin recorded 13.2 miles in 1:32:49, 7:02/mi.

Initially, the official results had my gun time as two minutes faster than my chip time, which made no sense. But I finally did manage to get that corrected, so, officially, 13.1 miles in 1:32:46, 7:05/mi. 10/218 OA, 2/127 F, and 1/39 F30-39.

Though my finish line pictures are so scary, they make me look like I belong in the 80-89 AG.