How To Return Safely To Exercise

By Tamera Clifton

If you were a regular at the Wellness Center before Covid-19, you may be feeling excited to return when we reopen in Phase 1. Before you dive back in full-force, however, please take a moment to check in with some of the changes your body may have gone through during the isolation of the pandemic.

Even if you have been participating in cyber workouts and venturing out for walks, chances are you have been at least slightly more sendentary since mid-March and have almost certainly been spending more time sitting. The effects of this are not irreversible but you will need to acknowledge them when starting to exercise again.

Our bodies are amazing and adaptable. We respond to the stresses we place on the body, and it is this bioplasticity that makes us respond so well to exercise. That is a great bonus when we are working on our strength, whether by resistance training, cardiovascular training, and even participating in activities of daily living. In fact, those activities of daily living actually contribute to our fitness more than you may realize, and replacing your weekly grocery store trips with more couch time can effect your posture, strength, bone density, and endurance.

But do not worry! You can get it all back. You can improve your cardiorespiratory endurance, bone density, and even build muscle at every age. You just want to be smart about it to avoid injury and excessive discomfort. The key is to START SLOWLY. You are going to be better off having a workout that was too easy and know you could do more next time than you are coming back too quickly. If it's the latter, you will at best have a terrible case of the DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness), and at worst, you can become injured and have to refrain from exercise again. So how slowly should you start?

A good place to start is at about 60-70 percent of your previous workload. So if you were using 4 pound dumbbells previously, drop back to 3 pounds at first. If you were pushing 120 pounds on the leg press, push 80 pounds when you start back. If you were walking on the treadmill at 4 miles per hour and it felt like a good push, take it back to 3.3 or 3.5 to get started. It might feel pretty easy, and you might have a bunch of adrenaline and endorphins reminding you how good it feels to move, but give yourself the gift of ease for the first few workouts. All that exhilaration you feel might cloud your mind to the actual work you are doing, and you will pay for it later. Taking that nice easy return allows your body to make a gentle change. The gentle change will still likely involve a little bit of the DOMS, but at a more tolerable level of soreness, and the gentle change will hell help you avoid the extra stress from wreaking havoc on your joints. When your muscles are too weak for the workload, your joints will take on some of the extra stress and are more vulnerable to long-term damage. The gentle increase in load/intensity will benefit your bones, allowing the bone density to safely increase, making the whole structure more solid and ready to regain whatever losses you have incurred during the period of isolation.

How long should you stay at the reduced rate? As long as you need to. Thankfully, it is relatively easy to get back in shape after a short break, so you can trust your vibe. Give yourself at least 24 hours after your first workout, and even 48 if you can be patient. This allows you to really see how your body has responded. Sometimes if you work out particularly hard, the soreness "waits" a day, and you get hit with VERY sore muscles, two days after the workout, so be cautious. After you have done three workouts at an easier level, you should find that the recovery feels easier and you can start working back up gently from there.

CARDIO

For cardiovascular training, that is going to look a little different. You will still likely experience some DOMS, but the intensity of the workout will give you more immediate feedback. Because cardio training uses large muscle groups in conjunction with your heart and lungs, you will feel the effects of your possibly-reduced endurance more immediately - during the workout itself. You can help yourself by being responsive to those cues. If you are laboring for breath, you are working too hard. If you feel your heart pounding, you are working too hard. If you are having trouble maintaining a tall, easy posture, you are working too hard. Give yourself those first three easy workouts before you build up, but also give yourself permission to be responsive. Knock that speed down a bit. Reduce the tension on the bike or elliptical.

You will be wearing a mask while working out, at least in Phase 1. That has an obvious effect on your ability to do cardiovascular training. First, you may not be able to take in air as comfortably as you could without a mask. Secondly, some of the air you are taking in is your own exhaled air, so there is a little lower level of oxygen in the air you take in to your lungs and your bloodstream when you are wearing a mask. It is safe to exercise in a mask, but it is almost like high altitude training in a way. In simple terms, the less oxygen you take in per breath, the faster you breathe, the more your heartrate elevates, and the sooner you fatigue. This is just science, and there is no point in trying to prove anything to yourself or anyone else. Your blood is not getting oxygenated in the same way as it does in "normal" circumstances. So pushing hard is off the table for now. Start slow, adjust to slower if necessary, and give yourself weeks to get back to where you were. Going too hard can hurt in some very lasting ways, but staying gentle is safe and will give you more benefit in the long run, and that's what we're after. 

CORE STRENGTH

Core strength and stability will need to be rebuilt. I think it's safe to say that all of us have spent more time seated than we did before the pandemic. The isolation is a big reason why we have been able to stay Covid-free here at the Plaza, but sitting does introduce a few undesirable side effects. When we sit, the muscles of the core are largely deactivated, as the job of supporting your body has passed on to your chair. Depending on the shape of your chair or couch, the pelvis is tipped a little or a lot, and the lower back flattens out to meet the shape of the chair. This deactivates the abdominal muscles even more and they respond by weakening. Weak abdominals and a tipped pelvis lead to tight hip flexors and a stressed-out lower back. Luckily, these muscles can strengthen and stabilize with a little daily attention. If you are participating in any of the classes on Channel 981, you have done some seated core work in the form of planks, controlled spinal twists, and seated sit-ups. Add a little bit of core work each day to keep your posture long and stable and keep these muscles strong to support your body as you work back to your previous levels of muscular strength.

NUTRITION

Finally, let's consider the nutritional aspects of returning to exercise.  

You MUST take in enough water. Bring a filled water bottle with you to exercise, and make sure you are sipping throughout your workout, as well as after. You may consider adding an electrolyte tablet (such as Hammer Fizz) to your water if you are able to supplement. (Quick tangent: electrolytes are the chemicals that aid in muscle contraction - nutrients such as sodium, potassium, and calcium - and safely adding a supplement can aid in recovery as well as avoiding muscle cramps. Most people can safely take them - people with certain heart conditions are cautioned to avoid supplementing electrolytes. Check with your doctor). Staying hydrated is essential always, but during exercise it is particularly so. Dehydration can lead to disorientation, changes in blood pressure, reduced reaction time, and other negative effects. Sip frequently to thirst, and don't overdo it.

You should eat about 1-3 hours before exercise, and that should include some carbohydrates, such as bread, fruit, juice, or vegetables. Carbohydrates give your body quick energy that is used during exercise. Exercising on an empty stomach can cause weakness, cramping, and lethargy.

You should eat within 90 minutes of challenging exercise, and ideally within 30 minutes. This post-exercise meal should contain a little bit of carbohydrate and protein, which plays a large role in muscle rebuilding. Something simple like peanut butter on bread or chicken and salad or even just a glass of chocolate milk can fit this bill. Taking in enough protein and getting enough sleep (muscle repair works at its peak while you are asleep) are vital to getting your pre-pandemic strength back.

Ultimately, if you remember that you had over 3 months to become unconditioned, you will be kind to yourself and allow your body to re-adapt to exercise. Please feel free to reach out to me or any of the Wellness staff to help with your goals.

50k for 50 years - a biography in 50 kilometers. In 2 parts.

This one has been hard for me to write, and it's something that honestly I've been putting off, because I just don't want to relive the minutiae, which is ironic, considering it's all about reliving the minutiae. 

So the gist of it is that I turned 50 this year. And I *LOVE* my birthday. I'm very protective of the day, as it's close to, and often on, Mother's Day, and I want my whole day without sharing it with Mother's Day, even for myself. So there was this race, the Smith Rock Ascent, which I'd thought about for several years, but it was always on my birthday weekend, but this year, my 50th birthday was coming up, and I thought 50k for 50 years seemed like a good idea. My birthday, May 10, was on a Friday, so I thought that a Saturday or Sunday race , would be a perfect celebration. So I signed up, planning on a fun weekend in Bend, OR. My sweet friend Rachel books a couple rooms at her timeshare for the weekend. A few weeks later, we hear from the event that they are moving the event away from Mother's Day for the first time to accommodate more people. Uggh. Fine. Rachel is cool and reschedules.

Anyway, things are fine, and I'm looking forward to it. The idea of a 50k is a bit daunting, but at this point I have run 17 marathons, so I know I can do the distance, but it's a little different in a 50k. This is about to be my 3rd 50k, and my first at altitude, and my first with any significant elevation change. I'm jazzed about it, though, and the 6 weeks between the Oakland Marathon on 3/27 and the Smith Rock Ascent on 5/18 is spent happily listening to Deena Kastor's audiobook Let Your Mind Run while racking up miles of trail and elevation along the trails of Forest Park here in Portland. We are fortunate to have hundreds of miles of beautiful trail on which to train, and I covered much of it over those weeks, getting inspired by Deena's empowering story. I was super jazzed to really try myself at the 50k distance. I said I had no particular time goal, but since I was entering a new age group, I figured I had a shot at an AG win, but still my goal was set on 50-for-50, and I was going to be happy with whatever. I set my Garmin for kilometers instead of miles to track my progress.

As the day approached, I had made the decision to think about my 50 years of life along the route. I would literally meditate on each of my 50 years with each of the 50 kilometers, and write about it here in my blog. Maybe even publish it. Here I am at the starting line:

Well, that didn't work out as expected. I actually had a really good run, took some great pictures, and had reminisced all the way up to just before I turned 32, when I found out I was pregnant with my 2nd daughter. Right there at Kilometer 31.7-ish, my phone rang, and I got the news that there had been an emergency and I needed to get back to the finish line ASAP. I'm not here to tell anyone else's story, so I won't get into that, but it was a stressful journey back to the bottom, and my second ever DNF, and everyone is okay, but it was a bad day.


Once I knew everyone was okay, I hoped it wouldn't be too weird to try another race. I had all this good training, and the very next week there was a popular 50k in Forest Park. Less exciting than Smith Rock, since I'd done literally *all* my trail training on those exact trails, but it was easy to get to and the timing was good. The race was full, and they wouldn't squeeze me in (same race directors as the Smith Rock), but they said if I showed up with cash in hand I could get in if there were no-shows.  I wasn't sure how high to get my hopes, but I carbed up and showed up, and I got in, along with all the other day-of hopefuls.

The weather was gorgeous. A light, cooling rain at the start made for a cool, damp forest in which to run. I didn't have anyone I knew on course with me, so I set about recounting my 50 years in 50 kilometers as internal dialog. I started by thinking about all the things that happened in 1969, such as the moon landing and Woodstock Festival. I thought about this as I climbed the Wild Cherry Trail - a climb of 500 feet over one mile. 

Year by year I went through the early 1970s. I thought about the music that was popular at the time, and talk about how my family was living in Chicago and I wondered about what my parents were like - so young at the time, and still married to each other, which I barely remember. I thought about the fashion of the time - so much orange, avocado, corduroy, and plaid. At 4 kilometers, I tried to remember moving from the Chicago area to the upper peninsula of Michigan. I did remember how the forests smelled up there. Similar to Oregon. Coming up Wild Cherry only to drop back down and then hit the steep climb at Holman Lane created a lot of leapfrogging among the runners. 

The late 1970s were a little more tumultuous. We moved down into the mitten part of Michigan, and my parents split up. My brother and I changed schools every year, and it was hard for me as a painfully shy kid to make friends, but I always did. My dad had moved to Germany for a few years with his company, and we spent the summer of 1978 there with him and my stepmother, as well as a little more than a year, beginning the next summer, traveling all around Western Europe, which was an amazing and life-altering experience for us both. These kilometers, 6-10, were pretty comfortable. I run a lot on Wildwood, and this was all Wildwood. Not easy, but nothing like the elevation of the east/west trails.

Kilometer 11. Now it's 1980. Oddly this decade had its own loop on the course. Firelane 1 was a steep downhill followed by a ascent back up the nature trail. There was an aid station at the closure of the loop, so I passed it at around mile 7 and 9. I didn't need it, so I pushed through. The next few years were also full of ups and downs. When my brother Tim and I returned to the U.S., our mother had moved to Florida to be near her mother, and moving from northern West Germany to scorpion-infested central Florida was an unpleasant culture shock. Add to that that I was now in 6th grade, which was middle school in my new town, and I was unprepared socially. But we weren't there long: we moved to Boulder, Colorado just a few months into my 6th grade year. Now I was back in elementary school, and still shy and awkward, but it was easier to make friends in the primary school environment. The next year we moved to Corpus Christi, Texas, where I would live until I graduated high school. While I ran steep downs and ups, I thought about myself in middle school. I was weird, and south Texas was diffferent from anywhere I'd lived before. I was dorky and over-eager to be liked. As I ran, I thought about how hard it is to be that age. Running hills was cake in comparison.

Now it's the late 1980s. The miles were easier than the years. Real coming of age stuff. I enjoyed high school for the most part, and was a pretty typical kid - I was on the dance team, I was interested in clothes and music and spent most of my waking hours with my girlfriends, wishing I had a boyfriend. Kilometers 15-20 were back on Wildwood and starting down the Maple Trail - narrow and mostly downhill at this point, and one of my favorite trails in Forest Park.

Kilometers 21-24 were along the fun, rolling parts of the Maple Trail - lots of gentle ups and downs. Years 21-24 in my life were also rolling hills, but less gently. Married at 21 to a jealous, lying man. I left him at 23 when his abuse reached a tipping point. I moved to San Francisco at 24, and learned and became who I really am. The maple trail felt easy and beautiful to explore while sorting through that. The crowd had thinned a bit, so it was a bit like being alone but not too alone here. Got passed a bit, passed some people.

Mile 15-16 (Kilometers 24-25.5), including the halfway point, was a *brutal* uphill climb from Leif Erikson up the Wiregate Trail and then up the rugged, root-laden Trillium Trail. At the intersection was an aid station. I ate a potato chip. This HARD climb was made easier by thinking about my fun life in San Francisco after my divorce. I was teaching aerobics in the financial district of the city and started working as a cigarette girl, selling concessions in nightclubs and concerts. A very different life than running uphill through a forest. 

Here is one of the photos I didn't purchase from early in the race - definitely going uphill, and looks like I'm running based on arm swing, but lots of bottlenecks in these early miles.

Kilometer 26: I ran down Firelane 7 as I remembered meeting Sean shortly after my 26th birthday. Back mostly on Wildwood as I hit kilometer 29 and 32, correlating with the years I had my 2 daughters. Enjoyable years and mostly comfortable running. As I crossed the 32 kilometer mark I was starting to think about having daughter #2 Aislin, and also thinking that this was approximately the point I was pulled off the trail at Smith Rock, my friend Rachel texted me, which freaked me out a bit, as she was the friend who called me at the top of Smith Rock. She was just checking in to see how my race was going, but the timing made me jumpy. :-/ 

The long trek up Firelane 5 was kind of fun. I met a couple of the guys I kept leapfrogging with - one of them (Mikey) was running several 50k races this year to celebrate his 50th birthday. We got to the top of the firelane right at mile 20, and there was an excellent aid station. I stopped and drank a ton of water out of a pickle jar and ate some watermelon before heading down fabulous wide, flat, downhill Saltzman trail. I barely had time to think about my years 33-35 because the trail felt so good.

The last 15k was hard, as I would expect it to be, but I kept running for the most part. Mentally it is not as much fun to relive one's 40s as it is to think about youth, but I thought about moving to Oregon, and becoming a marathoner at almost 40, and what running has given to me. I thought about how beautifully my kids have grown up and how lucky I feel about that, even though my legs were on fire. The last grind up the Dogwood Trail from mile 28.5-29 felt a little unfair, but the long 2 mile drop back to the finish line made up for a lot of it. I felt great.

Although I wasn't sure I would even get into this race, I'd checked last year's times, and the woman who won 50-59 in 2018 did so with a 5:54, so I had that in my mind. I had a tertiary goal to win my AG, a secondary goal to win it in under 5:54, and a primary goal of winning it in 5:40-anything. I got all 3 of those goals, winning my age group in 5:49:20. I needn't have stressed. 2nd place in my group was 6:42. I got a cute glass for finishing, and another for the AG win. I filled one of them with beer and celebrated. It wasn't the experience I'd expected for my 50k/50y, but satisfying. 

Here's the photo I did pay to download:

I like the little flecks of mud I'm kicking up. :-)

And here's a "foot selfie" with my winnings:

Oakland Running Festival

The Oakland Marathon on March 24 was exactly 16 weeks after the California International Marathon on December 2, so I didn't exactly have an off season. This was fine with me, since I had an unwanted and unplanned break last year from running. My main goal was to come back to Boston in 2020 after DNF'ing last year, so I needed to qualify again. Once I realized I'd be healthy enough to run CIM, I hoped I'd be fast enough to get that BQ. I had a couple other backup plans for early 2019 if that didn't happen, but as it happens, I was able to pull off a time that qualified me for Boston 2020 by more than 18 minutes, so that took that stress off my plate, and allowed me to run the spring marathon that I wanted, rather than trying to find another *fast* course.

The Oakland Marathon, I learned via rudimentary internet research, has typically had sections that ran into the Oakland Hills, and so if I needed to ensure a fast finish, I was going to pass on it, but since I got my BQ in December, I registered for Oakland the day after CIM. At that point I had no particular goal but a weekend in the Bay Area and just continuing to get/be in good shape.

But 2 things happened - my speed was really good. My speedwork was not only quick, but consistent as heck. Then I got emails from the Oakland Running Festival saying that since it's the 10th anniversary of this event, they were changing the marathon route to celebrate, and that now it was running and out-and-back over the eastern span of the Bay Bridge. A little history: the eastern span construction was going on For-Evah - it started sometime in the early 2000s, and was still going on when we moved away from the Bay in 2006, but has been completed by now for a few years. The new beautiful eastern span apparently has a pedestrian trail leading to Yerba Buena Island (or Treasure Island, if you will) - I did not know this. I actually thought we'd be running on the top deck, but turns out there's this great trail! Excellent.

So the new flatter course and my consistent speedwork (combined with the confidence I got by pulling off a 3:36 at CIM) made me think maybe I could finally get the 3:33:33 I've had in my mind since Boston of last year. I made a plan to stay at 8:05-8:10 for miles 1-10, and as best I could from 10-20 (the bay bridge was a slight upgrade from mile 11-15, and then a slight down grade from 15-19), and then to just stay fast and comfortable on the last 6 miles, which were relatively flat.

There's also another thing that happened. In February, we lost a wonderful friend. Brooks had been one of my husband's best friends since college, and was a great friend to both of us the whole time I've known Sean. It was an unexpected loss, and a devastating one. Sean had been planning to head down to the bay area to see him and play D&D the week after my race. Friends arranged a memorial for him the day before the marathon, so that Sean and I could be there. 

Brooks could get excited about a topic like nobody I've ever known. And he was funny as hell. He would get going on a joke or an idea and just keep hammering away at it until our faces hurt from laughing. I'm not sure how it started, but one time he got into a thing where he was grabbing my hand and looking at me intensely and saying "For you, baby, for you, I would do anything. For you, baby: I would BRAAAAVE THE SERENGETI!" It was funny and adorable and very Brooks. At the memorial, we met at a park in Berkeley, where we shared stories about him and talked and laughed with old friends, and had a sweet and somber and nostalgic time. I decided I would run the Oakland Marathon in his honor, so when I went back to my hotel room, I wrote on my bib Brooks' name and years on earth, and "For you, Brooks, I would run the Serengeti". I put a pin with his likeness on my hat, and told myself that I would think about him when the running got tough.

So before I talk about *my* race, let me tell you what a great event this was. Big enough to be festive and fun, and small enough to be friendly and un-crowded. Oakland is a complicated city, and the marathon managed to show the beautiful parts, the touristy parts, and the gritty parts without pretending it is something it's not. There were homeless, and there was blight, but the streets were clean, the volunteers plentiful and supportive, and the route both pretty and gritty. It started at Lake Merritt, a fun urban recreational area surrounded by posh homes. We started south of the lake, ran through downtown in a mini-loop, then popped down to Jack London Square. From there we ran through West Oakland and up to the bridge. After a nice long out-and-back on the bridge, we zigzagged through the 20's north of Lake Merritt before popping back on the lake trail right at Children's Fairyland before looping back to the starting area on Grand. This was a fabulously organized and friendly event that I would do again in a heartbeat. (The Portland Marathon could stand to set up a meeting with these guys, I mean it). The event is officially called the Oakland Running Festival and features a 5k, half marathon, 4-person relay marathon, and full marathon. Even the mile markers were done graffiti-style. I loved them, and because I was racing I didn't stop to snap a picture, but I was disappointed as heck to not find any online. Even the Oakland Running Festival's very good Instagram didn't have a pic. So I tried to recreate one. They looked like this, except done with talent:

So my race started out great. I chatted with a nice girl in a cute running hat while we did dynamic warmup at the starting line. It was self-seeded, with pace groups holding up signs for specific paces. I found a place about halfway between the 3:30 group and the 3:35 group. My mantra for the first 5 miles of a race is to continuously remind myself to "be like a rock in a stream", and let all the people overrunning their pace pass me like crazy, knowing I'll see the back of those same heads in the last 5 miles. I kept on my Garmin regularly to stay on pace while still enjoying the sights, but keeping myself slower than adrenaline would have me. I was having a great time and the first 11 miles breezed by in relative comfort. I didn't expect the bay bridge to feel like much of a hill, but 4 miles of steady uphill takes its toll - I read on the internet that it has a maximum grade of 6%, so if true, that explains a bit of the burn I was feeling. In any case, it didn't feel brutal, but it did feel harder than expected. Garmin showed that I slowed to 9:00 several times, and if I recall, I gasped in horror at 9:30 once. But I figured "even effort, not even speed" and figured I'd make it up on the way down. But I was wrong! I don't think there was a headwind, but for some reason, the way down did not feel great. I was still keeping 8:10, but it was hard and I couldn't figure out why. My nutrition had been spot on, I got at least as much sleep as I usually do before a marathon (which is not much, but it's my normal), and I really didn't feel like I was overrunning. At the bottom of the hill when it flattened, I was fighting a little harder for 8:30, but hadn't thrown in the towel yet.

I paused for a gatorade at one of the water stations, I think at mile 19, and shortly after I started running again, the 3:35 pace group passed me. I got sad and figured I wouldn't see them again. I started fighting for an 8:30 and got into my head, wondering what I did wrong. At mile 21, the 3:40 group passed me and I got PISSED. I ran on anger for another mile, but found myself getting slow. Mile 22 I glanced at Garmin and saw 10:something. I wondered if I should just quit and walk. I scanned my brain for why should this feel so bad? Then I said to myself "fuck this - you don't do it because it's easy, you do this because it's satisfying." Then I told myself "FFS Tami, you'll still get a 3:40 something - this isn't a bad day." Then I told myself "A year ago you'd have done anything for the opportunity to run a shitty marathon, and you're running an average one for you. Stop being a baby." I thought about Brooks and the fact that I was running this one for him. I said out loud the thing about the Serengeti. So I sped up and kept a nice easy 9:00-ish pace for a bit, leapfrogging with some guy running the relay. The girl with the cute hat from the beginning passed and offered encouragement. I passed a few people who had passed me the first 5 miles. We got to Children's Fairyland, and I remembered how much my kids liked it when they were little, and I sped up a bit.  At mile 25 I pulled up next to a guy who had just stopped to walk and told him, "come on - 10 minutes from now we'll be wearing a medal and drinking a beer." He started running again and said "2 beers!". I saw the finish line and heard my husband and sister in law screaming my name. I put some kick on and sailed into the chute. When all was said and done, I finished in 3:42:55. Really right around average for me. Not a disaster, but a lovely tour of Oakland, sometimes uncomfortable, but a very nice tribute to our dear friend Brooks Chenault.

Stats: 
Time - 3:42:55
Overall - 221 out of 1164
Women - 32 out of 380
F 45-49 - 4/ out of 36

Next: Smith Rock 50k 5/18/2019

Hagg Lake Mud Run 25K 2/17/2019

This was my third time running the Hagg Lake Mud Run. I had no particular agenda - I just knew this was a fun, sloppy race, and I wanted something approximately halfway between my last marathon in December and my next one in March. Since I only had 16 weeks between the California International Marathon in December and the Oakland Marathon in March, I didn't really have an off-season, so a 15.5 mile trail run just sounded like fun. "Tami-Fun," certain people might say (certain personal training clients in particular).

The first time I ran this race was in 2015, which had been a particularly dry winter, so there was *some* mud, but it was a pretty fast course for trail. They even had to hose down the Pig Sty, the deepest, sloppiest mud on the course. I ran it again with friends in 2016, and oh boy what a difference the mud made. It was such a sloppy, challenging course. I felt like I probably did an extra mile in lateral slides. It took me more than 28 minutes longer that year.

This year I had no particular expectations. It was a pretty wet winter, and they decided to run the course in the opposite direction, which could potentially affect the finish times. Of course I'm always hoping I'm fast, but I haven't been on the trails quite as much since my knee injury last year, and although I felt confident, I hadn't tested it, so I decided just to stay tuned in and have fun. 

About a mile or two in, I decided to set the display on my Garmin to heart rate rather than tempo/time/distance. First, it was impossible to hold a steady tempo, and heartrate seemed like a better indicator for me. Secondly, it was much easier on my old eyes to read this display while bouncing around. :-) I endeavored to keep my rate between 158 and 170 throughout and was pretty successful. (FWIW, I haven't really ever paid too much attention to my HR, so if that seems like I gave myself too much leeway I wouldn't be surprised).

I determined early on that I wasn't going to really fight anyone for position on this one. I wanted it to be a challenging run, but I wasn't in the headspace to really race that day. I settled in around mile 5 or 6 with a couple of runners who were about my pace, and eventually one particular runner and I pulled ahead of the others. She was behind me until about mile 11, and she pulled ahead. The competitor in me thought about trying to take back my position, but I reminded myself of my goal for this run and we ran the rest of it still close together, but with her navigating and me drafting for the final miles. I came in about 15 seconds behind her, and was surprised to have someone hand me a mug and say "You got third in Masters!" as I crossed. My on-trail friend had just gotten second! First was a good 3-4 minutes ahead of us. 

All in all, it was great fun, just sloppy enough, and a nice test of how my knee did on trail, which is comforting as I have a 50k on trail coming up in May. My final stats: 
15.5 miles (25K) in 2:33:46 (9:55 pace)
3rd in Masters out of 52
7th Woman out of 98
32nd overall out of 215
1st in age group out of 14

Next Up: Oakland Marathon 3/24

In the Pig Sty

California International Marathon 12-2-2018

I was so happy to actually be able to fit a marathon in this year, I hadn't set my goals terribly high for CIM this year. All through my recovery and training, I figured that if I could just finish it, it would be a success. I also figured that I could probably qualify for Boston somewhat handily, but I hadn't pushed too hard at the idea. Mostly I was just hoping that 2018 wouldn't be my first calendar year since 2008 without completing a marathon.

As I got closer to the race, I decided to set my goals as: 
1. Finish and be happy with it
2. Qualify for Boston (although they set the standards higher this year, I will be entering a new age group next year, so my 49-year-old qualifying time of 3:55:00 becomes my 50-year-old qualifying time of 3:55:00), and 
3. MAYBE pull off something in the 3:40's.

But I felt so good. While we were in Sacramento loading up on french toast the day before the race, Sean suggested that maybe I was setting my sights too low on this one. My training was going so well that he thought I might PR. I thought about it and decided that I was going to maybe not PR, but that I certainly had a shot at a 3:30-something, so I adjusted my goals a bit:
1. 3:54 (enough to buffer that BQ by one minute)
2. 3:40-something
3. 3:30-something. 
While it would be great to get a PR at my age, this was not the day to try it, because I've heard too many horror stories about people overrunning the first half of this race and dying in the second half. A PR for me would be 3:33:59 or less, which would mean either a consistent 8:05 or an amazing negative split. I wasn't confident enough to start that fast in either case, so we'll leave that for another race.

The expo was great. Extremely well-organized, and a very helpful and friendly bunch of volunteers. It was also wonderfully medium-sized. There was enough going on that it was fun and engaging (and I found a good deal on a good sports bra - I'd left my favorite in the dryer at home), but not overwhelming in crowd or in offerings. 

Race day weather was amazing. We were flanked by rain on Saturday and Monday, but Sunday was clear and cold and sunny. It was very dark at the start, however. The instructions on the website said "buses leave the convention center at 5:00". I wasn't sure if that meant that there was a window or if they all left at once, so I decided to leave the hotel at 4:40, just in case. As it happens, it was a good idea. There was a line most of the way around the block when I arrived at 4:50. It was really cold, and I was enjoying the warmth of my throw-away layers of sweats. The buses showed up exactly on time, and we filed on. Our driver, the lively Cherie, talked us through the evacuation procedures and popped back into the driver's seat. Aaaaaand the bus didn't start. Cherie kept a cool head, although she was undoubtedly getting worried. Her cheerful shout outs went from "It'll be just a minute, we'll get you going" to "They're gonna help me out here, just get comfy, we'll get you there" to "There will be another bus here in TWO minutes, don't worry!" We all filed off the bus back into the cold, and all the other buses had left. Cherie popped out and said "I'm just gonna try ONE MORE THING", and flipped some switch at the outside of the bus, and when she went back in... VROOM! We filed back on and got on the road. That was a little adrenaline spike, but not too bad.

It seemed like a very long ride to Folsom, but we arrived in time for me to cycle through the porta potty lines twice and see a lovely sunrise. We lined up in our self-assigned waves, and one of the members of the band Cake (from Sac'to) played the national anthem for us, and we took off.

I've heard horror stories of people starting this race too fast, so I took my usual approach of staring at my Garmin so as not to overrun the first few miles. I try to "be a stone in a stream" and let all the people who are going out too fast pass me by, taking care to remember what some of them look like so I can see them again in the last 5 miles as I pass them. It's a strategy that works well for me, keeping me slow at first and pushing me in the tough miles.

They bill this race as "fast" and "net downhill", but they don't really tell you quite how hilly it is. It's really quite a lot of rolling hills, especially in the first 16-18 miles. After that it's chill as heck, but there is a lot more uphill than their marketing department would lead you to believe. That said, I like rolling hills, so I was very okay with it, but I wouldn't say it's an easy course!

Thanks to my Garmin, I was able to keep a really consistent pace. When all was said and done, my fastest split was 8:08, and my slowest was 8:17. Remarkably consistent, for me at least. The only part I really hated was mile 25, but I pretty much always hate  mile 25. Coming around the State Capitol at the end was really fun, not only for the visual, but the great crowd support. There was a guy dressed like Jesus at mile 26 with a sign that said "The End Is Near", which made me laugh out loud. (That and the person nearer the half holding the sign that said "Toenails are for Pussies" were my favorites). Coming up Capitol Avenue to the finish, I put a little kick on, and was delighted to have finished with a solid 3:36:30. The second-fastest marathon I have run (after Chicago 2014), and a Boston Qualifier by 18.5 minutes.

Overall it was a very positive experience and I would recommend this race highly. I had only two criticisms: One is there was nowhere nearly enough water at the finish line. After I left the finishers area and found my husband, we had to look around for probably 10 minutes to find water, and then it was only a little cup, not sufficient to mix my Recoverite, so I had to get back to the hotel to have my recovery drink. I know CIM is trying to have a low carbon footprint, but maybe they should consider a bottled water sponsor. We're all pretty dehydrated when we come across, and can't reasonably stay in the chute until we've rehydrated. Just my opinion.

Secondly, and I hope someone from CIM gets back to me about this, is the behavior of one of the pace mentors really bothered me. I started out in between the 3:30 and 3:35 pace groups, and spent about half the race with 3:35 right on my heels. I don't like to run with the groups, just because I find the crowding kind of stressful, but I know they are a great offering in big races for people who want the guidance. And I know that a great pace leader can be a game-changer. One of the guys leading 3:35, however, was a little upsetting. He kept smack-talking people wearing the Nike VaporFly shoes, saying things like "look at all these people wearing those ridiculous $400 shoes thinking they are gonna be the ones getting a 2 hour marathon". "Look there goes another guy. He's gonna run a 4 hour marathon." Then around mile 17 or thereabouts he says "Oh great. Here comes the MOST BORING 4 miles of this marathon." I was disappointed for the people running in his group. There's fun banter, and there's taking people down. I hope someone has a conversation with this guy about how to say things in a positive way. At mile 17, for instance, "here's where we need to dig deep as we start to get back into the city" would have a more positive vibe than basically telling them to prepare to be miserable for 30 minutes. We need to remember when we're civilians versus when we are representing someone's business/event/marathon. Anyway, that's my soapbox. Other than that, it was a terrific experience.

Thanks so much to P.A.C.E. physical therapy for getting me back on my knee, and to my amazing sponsor Hammer Nutrition - Tissue Rejuvenator during my recovery, as well as frequent use of Recoverite, Endurolytes, and Fully Charged got me through training. Endurolytes, Race Day Boost, Anti-Fatigue Caps, Fully Charged, BCAA, and Hammer Gels: Mountain Huckleberry, Vanilla, and Peanut Butter on race day helped get me to the finish line.

2018. A little about Boston. And the Appletree Half Marathon

2018 didn't turn out to be the year I thought it would. Last September I registered for the Boston Marathon, hoping for a re-do of my 2013 race. I actually ran a good race that year, but because of the bombing, I thought it would be nice to do it again and see Boston in celebratory glory rather than crime scene investigation mode. By the time my training started in late December, I decided that for my 16th marathon, I would change up the way I trained and see if I could really surprise myself. I decided that I'd try to get a PR in Boston, just a few weeks shy of my 49th birthday. I added an extra day of running to my usual plan, and held myself to a higher standard for tempo work. It wasn't at random - I read books by smart guys and applied my new-found knowledge carefully. And it was working! By late February and early March, I was running faster and more consistently than ever, and relatively comfortable during and after my workouts. 
On March 9, I injured myself teaching a particularly hard strength class. (Rookie mistake - don't demonstrate what not to do while holding a heavy load - insert facepalm here). I had hoped that it wasn't much and that I could just do some deep water running and foam rolling and be fine 5 weeks later in Boston. But it wasn't. Despite the freezing temps, strong headwinds, and driving rain, I was excited to be there. I hadn't made a plan for a potential DNF, because it hadn't occurred to me that I wouldn't finish. Silly, I know, but I thought I could power through. I felt great for 3 miles, okay until the 10k mark, slow but determined to 15k, and then tried walking. It was so cold that when I switched to walking, my muscles locked up and I limped from mile 10-point-something to the medical tent in Natick at mile 11 and faced the inevitable. My first (and hopefully only) DNF. I was devastated, but that's for another day. 
When we got back to Portland, I finally got myself to a doctor, and got the diagnosis that I had a small meniscus tear, and that it was rehab-able rather than requiring surgery. So starting in late April, I went to physical therapy every week with the miracle worker Matt Walsh, and by July 4 I was ready to run a 5k. After that, I was released and told to "Be Smart" as I increased my mileage again, and that a half marathon in September and a full marathon in December seemed like achievable goals. So I signed up for the Apple Tree Half on September 16.
I tried to talk to myself as I would a client and remember that increasing speed and increasing distance need to happen sequentially and not simultaneously, and also that progress is never linear. It has been humbling to be slow and out of shape comparatively. But I'm so happy to get to do it again. 
I got my long run mileage back up to 16 or 17 miles the week before the Apple Tree, and I had started doing track workouts about a month or so beforehand, so I felt like I had a good chance of staying consistent at around 8:00-8:15 per mile for the race. My basic goal was just to have a good run without stopping. My REAL goal was to come in under 1:50. In general I'm a 1:43-1:45 half marathoner, but there's a lot of variation around that.  I thought 1:40-anything would feel great.
The weather report varied like crazy the week leading up to the race. One day it was predicting heat and sun, the next day, cold and rain, and just back and forth all week, so I had no idea what to expect. I felt like it would be nice to have a race that wasn't rainy and windy, but sometimes that's how it is. 
Anyway, race day, the half marathon didn't start until 8 a.m., so I missed the early morning rain, and it was actually rather pleasant at the starting line. My biggest concern was not going too fast in the first half. This is usually my biggest concern anyway, but since my endurance is not yet what it was 6 months ago, I was really afraid of crashing and burning. My garmin was my bff, and every time I saw myself popping down to a 7:-something mile, I backed off to somewhere in my goal range.
So I have run a handful of events in Vancouver, and by and large I have found them to be okay. I seem to recall short miles through the pretty part of Fort Vancouver, followed by long out-and-backs with not much to look at, and I definitely remember at least one poorly-timed race where the fastest of the half-marathoners were forced around big groups of the slowest 5k walkers in the last half mile or so. 
(Somewhat unrelated rant: Please don't get me wrong - I absolutely LOVE seeing people come out to walk a 5k. I think people who aren't "typical" racers often don't get the appreciation they deserve. However, on a narrow street, when you're trying to get a PR, and you're having to go 10 feet sideways to get around a string of 5 abreast-walking people who are chatting and naturally not looking behind them, it can get a bit frustrating. This seems somewhat preventable by a race director with an eye on the timing of things.)
Anyway, back on track: the Apple Tree Half Marathon was far and away the best race I have run in Vancouver. There were many things I appreciated, and I'll try to get to them all:
First of all, the 5k was the night before, which was a huge win for a lot of people, and big ups to WHY Racing for doing it this way. It gave them the opportunity to have a weekend long event, making the atmosphere more festival-like than just one race time can do. It also gave folks who really like medals the chance to participate in both the 5k and the Half Marathon and even earn a third "Beast" medal in the process. A lovely idea, and the bling-collectors were definitely digging it. It also allowed the course to stay a little less hectic the day of the longer events.
Secondly, Vancouver has made some lovely changes to its waterfront area. The new, modern riverwalk area was nice to look at, and also because there was so much going on, gave a level of crowd support in the often-challenging later miles of the race. WHY racing did a great job of designing the course - there were no multiple-mile stretches with nothing and nobody to look at. The mostly out-and-back course offered good views coming-and-going, and I personally like a course that is at least partially out-and-back, just because you can see who else is on course. The variety of views was great - park, a bit of trail, riverfront, a bridge/overpass that was very scenic, and well-marked turns and crossings made the trip very pleasant.
The only possible drawback that I could see was because it was largely out-and-back, and the marathon was a double loop of the half marathon, it could get a little crowded on some of the narrower pathways. I'm not sure I'd recommend it as a probable PR course for that reason, but that's speculative. I was certainly happy with my time, so perhaps the relatively small fields circumvented that issue.
So, I was feeling pretty good for most of the race. Around mile 8, the wind really picked up, which made it harder than I'd have liked to stay consistent, and at around mile 9 the sky opened up to a downpour for about 20 minutes, which was less than ideal, but I'll take rain at mile 9 a million times over rain at mile 1. By mile 11 I was not smiling anymore, but I just reminded myself that it's okay to be uncomfortable and that I could run for 16-17 more minutes. I knew if I slowed at all, I wouldn't be making my goal of under- 1:50, so I just hunkered down and focused on passing someone who had been about a quarter mile ahead of me for some time. I passed her at mile 12 and got my game face on to push to the finish. 
I was thrilled to finish in about 1:48:30 - nowhere near a PR for me, but a very successful return to racing, considering I'd only been running again for 2 months. After crossing the finish, I hobbled over to the results tent (more props to WHY Racing for having *immediate* results available), and found out I won my age group! That was particularly satisfying. I crossed the finish as the 11th woman overall (out of 419), and 1st in my age group (45-49) out of 40. 
As always, huge thanks to my amazing sponsor Hammer Nutrition. Fueled for this race with Endurolytes, Apple Oatmeal bar for breakfast, Grape Fizz while I drove to the course, Fully charged and Espresso Hammer Gel at the start line, and of course APPLE PIE gel on course. Recoverite at the finish line. Special mention to Tissue Rejuvenator for helping me get over this meniscus tear and back to running with the rapidity I was able to pull off.
Next up: California International Marathon on 12/2.

Columbia Gorge Marathon

My running goals this year were not many, as we've had a lot of other priorities for 2017. I wanted to run at least 2 marathons, and 3 if necessary, because my main priority was to qualify again for Boston. Next year will be 5 years since my first run of Boston, and I'd like to see it in all its glory this time. Luckily for me, I qualified readily on my first attempt back in May at the Capital City Marathon. This meant I didn't need to try again in July. It also freed me up to do a run that I've had on my list of "someday marathons", the Columbia Gorge Marathon. I've heard for years that it is a beautiful race, but definitely not a PR course because of its elevation and the windiness of the Columbia River Gorge. 
I've been spotty with my training the last 16 weeks because of this and that. Extreme heat didn't stop me from running outside, but it did slow me down. The gorge fires in September made the air quality inhospitable, and I missed a few runs from that. Family obligations had me miss a few. Nothing too aggregious, but for someone who only runs 3 times a week, I felt like I could have been a little better trained. That said, I was really excited about this race. The website cornily brags "You'll get a PR - not for time, but for most pictures taken on course!" I laughed, but in reality, that is true.
I was feeling pretty ready, and not at all sure what to expect for time. My PR is 3:34 (Chicago 2014), and my slowest ever (non-trail) marathon was 4:10ish at the Portland Marathon last year, with the extra .75 miles they accidentally added (that's a whole other story, but when I saw that I was 3 miles behind at the half, I fell apart, only to realize that because of the extra mileage, I'd actually been 2 minutes ahead. Ultimately it was a disaster for me). 
Anyway, suffice it to say, I had no idea what to expect for time on this one. I do run a lot of hills, and somewhat steep ones, too, so I wasn't daunted, but I've never raced a hilly road marathon, so couldn't really nail down an expected time. I told myself that if I came in somewhere between 4:00 and 4:15, I would be satisfied, and if I got a sub-4 hour, I would be delighted. 
My taper went well, and although I would swear I was hungrier during the taper than usual, I'm pretty sure I always think that. The week before the race I was really sore, and I couldn't figure out why, as I hadn't worked out especially hard. By Wednesday night, I had a tight throat and sinuses, so went to bed early. Thursday morning I woke up sick as heck. I was able to cancel all my clients for the day, but had to go in and teach my yoga class. I spent the rest of the day in bed, and Friday, too. Saturday I still felt ill, and noticed that the cold had moved into my chest, which was not a good sign. I'd been taking sudafed to prevent it, but it was clear that I was going to run this race sick. I googled the effects of sudafed on marathoners, and found that in large concentrations it is a banned substance. Not an issue for me, as I stayed below the recommended dosage anyway, and there is no way I was in contention for a win. But it was enough to let me know that I probably wouldn't die if I took one before the race. I know that an antihistamine will make you thirsty, though, so I decided to run with my camelback. I've never raced with it before, because the extra weight and sloshiness of it, but it was a good call on Sunday. I put the full amount of water with 2 Hammer Nutrition Fizz tablets for extra electrolytes. I also packed Hammer's Endurolytes and Anti-Fatigue tabs for the road. I filled my vest with gels and a bag of mini pretzels, as after a few hours of running, salty and crunchy tend to sound a lot better than sweet and gooey. I also had a shot of Fully Charged right before the start for a little kick.
The flash flood warning of the day before was gone, as was the forecast of rain. There were light sprinkles the first few minutes, but we had a lovely rainbow overhead as the gun went off:

It was a small field of marathoners, and among them are a few that I know from the half marathon group I coach at Foot Traffic. Four of them were running their first marathon, so I was glad to have an out-and-back course so I could check on them while still running my own race. I was careful not to overrun the beginning, and was glad to have my Garmin reminding me to stay slow on the initial 5 miles, which were easy rolling hills with a bit more down than up. While I was reminding myself to slow down around mile 3, I fell in step with Brittney, a runner from eastern Oregon with a similar pace and goals, so we chatted and stayed together for several miles. Miles 5-10 were a pretty steady uphill, but that was as expected. What I didn't expect was the pummeling we got with the winds at mile 10. The turnaround was at mile 11 (the finish line was further down than the start), and while I had hoped for a little relief on the downhill miles, they were not as fun as I had hoped, as there was a strong headwind. I consoled myself with the amazing views:

(Brittney and me near the halfway point)

(One of many stunning views of the gorge)

At mile 12ish we hit the peak elevation and I was looking forward to five steady miles of downhill, but the strong headwinds took a little of that natural downhill momentum away. I felt pretty good, though, and thought that possibly I was headed for a sub-4:00 race, which would have been great for that course in my current condition. At around mile 14, though, I started to feel a familiar tremor in my calf, and stopped to take more Endurolytes, hoping it would stave off the cramping that usually hits me around mile 22. By mile 16, I fell behind Brittney, knowing I would have to do a little walk/run to keep my calves from getting destroyed.

By mile 17, I was still pretty happy but had definitely slowed. I was walking one minute every so often, and tried to take it easy on myself knowing that I'd rather finish slower and happy than gun for some unreasonable time and hurt myself. So I stopped a few times and took more pictures and sipped on my fizz and pulled out my headphones to take some musical encouragement. 

At mile 23, my calf went into full spasm, so I stopped and stretched and didn't freak out about it or feel defeated as I had in previous races, and got back to business as soon as I could. At mile 24, I hit my second wind, and just felt great to the end. I think the last 2 miles were my fastest. They were largely downhill, but still. I felt great at the finish, and while I'd have loved to have gotten there 62 seconds faster, I was not disappointed with my 4:01:01 finish time.

I would absolutely do this race again. It was beautiful, and I think that with a little more of a visceral idea of what the course feels like (and without a chest cold) I could pull off a more satisfying finish time.

My stats: 56/186 total finishers, 26/90 women, 6/24 women 40-49

Next race: Holiday Half Marathon 12/10