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The First 3

Posted in Running with tags , , , on February 5, 2012 by cmerritt42

I have a hard time coping on the first three miles of any distance race.  For some reason, that first approximate 5K I completely doubt myself and my abilities.  As my thousands of readers know, I have never admitted to being a super speed runner.  I’m not built for running at all, but yet my love for it keeps me going.

Despite all my experience of toeing the (slow) line, those first three miles are somewhat akin to being tortured.

I’ve had more than one person tell me that I’m in my head too much.  I fret, I worry, I over-analyze.  And even though I’m a marathoner, and a multi-half-marathoner, when the starting gun/fireworks/flag drops I immediately believe that it is impossible I will finish.

Perhaps it’s because of the starting runners in a pack, whose faces blur and blend and whose bodies may look nicer in the running tights.  Or the throngs of folks who crowd the start to cheer people on, and the fear I will stumble and disappoint them.  Fact is most times I’m being pushed to go harder at the start, even if I go to the very back of the pack.  And anyone who has raced knows you aren’t supposed to go out hard, because you might well pay for it at the very late stages of the race.

God forbid we start on an uphill.  Because there is something in me that says that, even though I don’t run lots of hills, I have to be all bad ass and run this one.

In England running is a lot more hard-core then in the States.  In my first half marathon, despite the two ice storms, people blazed ahead.  I barely finished in front of a man in full head to toe motorcycle gear.  You go from being in this wild pack to being alone quick if you are a slow runner, and there is this period of total desperation that makes you wonder for quite a while if perhaps they will close the course at some point leaving you fully alone.

But then something happens.  I wish I could properly describe it.

I don’t know if it’s at the first water station, when the volunteers seem so relieved that they are down to their last few runners.  Or if it’s at that point where I first pass someone, anyone, even the guy who is running with dumb bells on his ankles and bare feet.  Somewhere along the line I get out of my head.  I stop fretting, stop worrying about the fact that I’ve never managed to sit at a 10 minute mile for longer than a mile.  I leave work things, home things, personal hang-ups behind me.  I start getting all excited about seeing mile markers and thinking about what flavor of Gu I get to take in or if this is a Gatorade station for my next break.  I may even attempt to calculate my pace, which, for anyone who has ever run with me in later race stages may be at a speed of A:Monkey:Pancakes.

And I finish.  I always finish.  Even if it is third to last and with a wobble.

I think it’s those first three miles that turn people away from running, because it really is hard to get going and to believe in yourself.  No matter how fast, slow, chubby, skinny, talented or determined you are when in that crowd that moment when people blaze by you the inkling comes… that realization you should just give it up.

The hardest part it moving beyond it and realizing that in the end you are only racing yourself.

Despite my eight years of running it happens every time in a long race.  Every, single, time.  And I get over it.

I get over it because I keep going.  I don’t stop, even though I want to stop.  I don’t walk off the course, even though I know I’m finishing in the end pack.  I don’t sit down and cry, even though I’ve wanted to many, many times.  I’ve expressed my desperation to running partners, to relay teams.  I bawled my way to the finish of my first half marathon.

Every time it’s a struggle, and somehow I get through it.

So, if you are sitting there reading this thinking you can’t – you can.  You just need to get up and put on the shoes and go out there and do it.  Push past the demons and doubts and know that when you cross the line they won’t take it away from you.  The medal, the shirt, whatever they give you – that is yours.   Get out of your head and go.

Take it from me, who has suffered through many a mile three.  The pay off is worth it.

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Best. Run. EVER.

Posted in English Living, Running with tags , , , , , on December 11, 2011 by cmerritt42

 

So, me and my 1,500 other friends went out in Oxford today dressed as Santa, or, as they sometimes call him here, Father Christmas.

We gorged ourselves on mince pies and then went on a two-mile walk, where we wound up with a pack of teachers singing Christmas Carols.  In the process we raised a couple thousand dollars for the Helen & Douglas House, which just so happens to provide hospice care to kids and young adults.

Why everyone isn’t doing this is beyond me.

I’m sure the logistics of locating and distributing enough Santa suits to fill a college dining hall must be a bit daunting.  And yeah, they have to close off streets in a medieval city centre for about an hour and a half, which may annoy shoppers.  Oh, and you have to get up early.

But, seriously, WHY ISN’T EVERYONE DOING THIS?

First, you have permission, all day if you want, to wear a Santa suit around town.  Total permission.  People may stop you and ask why, which is cool.  Some people may look at you a bit funny.  But the bit of joy you get in watching people do double takes, to hear kids screaming, “It’s Santas, Mummy!  Santas everywhere!” is pretty freaking cool.

Second, provided you are awesome enough, you can do this as a walk in a pack and sing Christmas carols.  In our case, we wound up with a group of teachers who knew snippets of carols, but the entire words to Slade’s Merry Christmas Everybody.

This is the point in the blog post in which I have to pause and explain to American’s the impact of this song.

There are a few songs that you learn when you come to the UK for Christmas.  Some are a bit disturbing, like Wizzard’s “I wish it could be Christmas everyday”:

Or, The Darkness, which… um… well… just watch it:

But then, there is Slade.  Which, in all truth and fairness, should’ve have made it to the US and into the Christmas charts to be played forevermore like WHAM!  But, alas, it did not.  Instead, you have this awesome hair and a bunch of twigs in 80s outfits shaking their thangs to the what is the most famous holiday song in the UK (right after Killing in the Name of, but that’s another post):

Our particular group kept looping the song when words to Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer ran out.  It was so impressive, Jack FM came up to record it to place it somewhere on the radio during this festive time.

Third, and finally, WHY ISN’T EVERYONE DOING THIS RUN?

When you can get away with wearing a Santa suit, singing Christmas carols, and raising thousands of dollars for charity there should be a lottery for this.  People lining up and begging for spots.  Sure, it’s short at 2 miles and hardly anyone ends up walking because they are laughing to hard but still.

It is the COOLEST RUN EVER.

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OhmagawdOhmagawd…

Posted in Marathon Training, Running with tags , on October 6, 2011 by cmerritt42

I went home yesterday in a funk.  After spending over four hours attempting to apply custom fonts to a website I had failed.  As I biked home I was trying my best to pump myself up.  “Failure,” I kept saying to myself, “is just the path to success.”  After all no one gets everything right the first time, you just have to keep learning and trying.  (And if you are one of those people who do get it right once, well poo on you.)

Upon arriving home all time converts to the dog and his orange squeaky.  He stood behind the glass door, joy in his face and tail whirling around like a propeller.  I let him out to do his pre-squeaky potty break and went to get the lead and doggy bags.  As per usual he had mercilessly attacked the mail, because in doggy mind the mail is out to kill us all.  (So are recycle trucks, garbage trucks, and anyone who walks by the house – but that is another blog post.)  As I stacked together the items I noticed a red plastic bag with a vague depiction of little running people peeking out from behind it.  At first I thought it was a running catalog and I could thereby spend a few hours spending imaginary money until I realized…

…it said congratulations on the front cover.  Actually, it said CONGRATULATIONS!

And I knew what it was.

I had seen it before, but it had a different persons name on it.  I remember the extreme jealousy.  I remember getting similar magazine that said “commiserations aka COMMISERATIONS!” and a wind jacket which I refer to as “The Red Jacket of Rejection.”

It was my acceptance place into the London Marathon.

Holy crap.

I started jumping up and down screaming, “OhmagawdOhmagawdOhmagawd!”  which prompted the dog to run up and start barking uncontrollably at me (and probably thinking “ThrowtheballThrowtheballThrowtheball!”).  I have, to date, never removed the cover of a plastic wrapper so quickly, nor checked the acceptance form so throughly  to make sure that it was mine.

Mine all freak-tastic-awesome mine.

And then, as I bounded out to the garden with an equally happy dog, it hit me.  After 3 years and one successful marathon I had willingly signed up for a second.

Willingly.

Signed.

Up.

For.

ANOTHER.

Marathon.

WILLINGLY.

But this is the one I wanted most.  The one that would be, for me, the hardest to get into.  (Although I have hope for that place in Boston when I’m 105.  By then I may actually have a qualifying time.)  So, I’m going to do it.  Not because I have to, because I want to.

Sometimes it is nice to sign up for something that is stupid hard simply for the desire to complete it.

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How to Cope with Race Day Jitters

Posted in Running with tags , , , on September 25, 2011 by cmerritt42

Dear Miss Race Manners,

I’m about to run my very first half marathon/marathon/5k – how do I cope with race day jitters?

Sincerely,

Jitter Bug

Dear Jitter Bug,

Considering that I’m sitting here on the couch after waking up in a dead panic at 4AM the day before my 11th or 12th half marathon (I honestly can’t remember), I can tell you that there is a pretty high possibility you will never get over race day jitters.  I recall that when I ran my first long race I spent the entire night up out of pure fear I would miss my alarm, and took the first bus in to the starting area a good two+ hours before the gun went off.  I can also tell you that I’ve done such things as set two or three alarms, forced myself to eat despite feeling ill (you need to because it is nerves), and have a fixation with visiting the port-a-potty at least twice to make sure I don’t have to run off course to do my business in the woods… which you will see about mile two of any major race.  Mass exodus to the nearest patch of trees.  I’m not kidding.

I know seasoned endurance racers who have given up on any practical means of rest the night before racing because they are so excited/nervous.  I know others who can fall asleep, wake up refreshed, and post their personal best and then go grocery shopping.   I can tell you that it gets better in time.  That even if you are like me and have a bit of a panic that you will have it like clockwork and then say to yourself, “Well, you’ve had your panic now get what you can out of rest before you really need to get up.”

But most importantly I will say this: Despite whatever nerves, worries, excitement, make sure that you eat and hydrate.  Don’t try for fancy food on the day, just the normal stuff you eat for a normal breakfast.  After the race is over and you have your little medal then do something fancy.

Finally, don’t worry – everyone at the race is nervous in some form.  Everyone.  You’re just becoming part of that tradition.

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The picking of the running outfit.

Posted in Running with tags , on September 24, 2011 by cmerritt42

Yet another thing a non-runner wouldn’t understand: Race Day Running Outfit.

Tomorrow I am doing this: Oxford Half Marathon

So you know, it’s the first half marathon run through Oxford in a really long time.  They have the Oxford Town and Gown and the most awesome two-mile race ever, Santas on the Run.  But they haven’t run a half marathon since the 90s.

As I prep to be part of this inaugural race I have dutifully stuffed my Fuel Belt with Gu, washed all my water bottles, and attached my timing chip to my shoe.  These things are easy.  But where I fret is in what I wear.

First, I want to make sure I’ve got color going on.  I don’t have an ounce of speed, but as I jog along I want people to at least see some vibrance.  Second, I’m not yet sure if I want to pair the bright top with shorts or with running capris.  So, after some initial thoughts I have decided to create a primary and a secondary outfit.  Primary outfit consists of the lime green Run to the Beat jersey I got my first race after moving here and black running capris with a comfy waist.  I’ve also decided on a full running top (not half) in case it gets warm and I don’t feel up to flashing some major skin.

Secondary outfit is a switch from capris to my most obnoxious pair of shorts.

My feet will be sporting the most wonderful running socks on Earth, 1000 mile.  I cannot decide if they will be the pink ones or the blue ones.  I also will be introducing my newest pair of Brooks running shoes, having discovered recently that my current pair have lost all their traction.

I have carefully folded all this material and placed it within easy arms reach of waking up.  In a few minutes I will go and carefully put my Fuel Belt together and put all race day information in one place.

This, of course, will mean little tomorrow, when I wake up in a panic despite the planning.  Mercifully I’m not driving to the race, as if I was there is another race day ritual I don’t enjoy talking about: upset tummy driving around panicking even if I get there 2 hours before the start gun.

We won’t walk about that.  We’ll stick with outfits.  Yes, outfits are good.

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Get an Excuse to Run

Posted in Running with tags , , , on September 8, 2011 by cmerritt42

Inspiration o’ the month: David Walliams Swims the Thames

I would like to point out, for the sake of it, that he is currently swimming the Thames (140 MILES of it) with a stomach bug.

For those of you unfamiliar with who on Earth this guy is, there is this show called Little Britain.  He’s the tall one.  I was first introduced to them during Comic Relief, where I watched them do a little sketch.  I never thought much of him until a few days ago, when a colleague of mine pointed out he’d be swimming through the Osney Lock on his way to London.

And then it was, like, “Hold up.  This dude is hardcore.”

So even though the day was gale force winds (which I biked through and don’t recommend) I went out to cheer for him.  I even have a picture of him in the water.  Wah-lah:

He’s the white speck cap to the left of the swans.

So what does this have to do with running?  Well, nothing except one thing: Sometimes, you just gotta keep doing it.  It is so easy to have excuses not to run, and when that happens, find the excuse to run.

David is doing this all for charity.  There is the personal satisfaction of completing a huge task, but I don’t think he would be as motivated to keep going without the people he’s met while doing charity work.  I’m sure he doesn’t want to let those people, or the people supporting him, down.  So he powers on.

On a smaller level and in my little world, I’ve found out I’ve actually inspired people to run.  Some of them have even found out they are rather good at it.  So they’ve become my excuse to run right now.  Another reason to power through.

Whether it’s setting a good example for your kids or earning the right to ice cream, find your excuse.  It can be lofty and amazing, like what David is doing, or small and silly – but any excuse to run is a good excuse.

Just find one and grasp on.

 

 

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Race Day Etiquette: How to Line Up at the Start

Posted in Running with tags , , , on July 4, 2011 by cmerritt42

Dear Miss Race Manners,

I am about to participate in my first race.  Where is the best place to line up at the start?

Sincerely,

Miss Aligned

Dear Aligned,

Signing up for a race can be a big motivator in working to improve your running – good on you!  Many first time racers already get paranoid about all the etiquette that revolves around race day (and some seasoned pros never stop being nervous).  Here are the tips I’ve learned for lining up on race day:

Time a few miles to know your real speed.

And we’re not talking, “time them on days you are feeling fabulous.”  Time a general set of running for a few weeks if you can, as that will give you a good marker for your finishing time.  Sure, you’ll be missing all the adrenaline of race day, but you’ll know that if it all goes wrong you are more of a 12 minute miler than a 9 minute miler.

Be realistic with your finish time.

Really, be realistic.  Do not be unafraid to see the line up markers that read 9 minutes, 10 minutes, 12 minutes, and proceed to put yourself in the far far back where there is no minute miler chart.   If you know in your heart you start more at a walk than a jog then put yourself back there.  There is no shame in it.  I’m glad enough that I can now stand in a minute per mile group, but I started in the back at first so I could learn how races really work.

If you are not an elite runner, don’t put yourself in the elite running group.

Do not toe the line unless you have every intention of hauling ass for 5K, 10K, half marathon, marathon.  You’ll block people who will run you over.  I distinctly remember a race where they let the slow people go first and then when we reached halfway they released the fast runners.  It was the most terrifying experience I have ever had.  Know this: They hold no mercy for you.  They will, if provoked, trample you into the ground and on their second lap dance on your skull.

Follow the signs/listen to the announcements.

In really big races they will often corral you, but I’ve seen really big races where they don’t bother.  If you are super concerned about lining up correctly put yourself near the announcement speakers and listen carefully.  If you see a pack of people moving toward a start line it is perfectly okay to ask a volunteer what group it is heading there.  Don’t just get into a group if you don’t know what group it is.

And finally, if you’ve brought anything with you or are wearing anything you plan to toss – make sure you toss it as far off the course as is reasonable.

Start lines are often littered with ancient shirts and water bottles, especially cold races.  Make sure you take off or toss those items off the course if you plan to let them go at the start.  Do not just drop them where you run.  You’ll cause issues for the people behind you, plus, if a donation group is working they’ll end up picking up your filthy junk and cursing your name.  And since races are run primarily by volunteers you don’t want them angry.  Alternatively if you are attached to something be sure that you will either have someone who will carry said item for you or that you can check baggage somewhere, often for a small charity fee.

So, there you have it.  It’s all about being realistic and looking for the right signs/listening.  Once you’ve got that down you’ll know where to start on race day.

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Race Day Porta-Potty Etiquette

Posted in Running with tags , , on June 27, 2011 by cmerritt42

Dear Miss Race Manners,

I’ve never ever been to a 5K race and me and my 7,000 friends are doing one tomorrow.  To top it all off, we’re female.  How do I best behave when needing to use the porta potty?

Sincerely,

Gotta Go 5K

Dear Gotta Go,

Congratulations on finding a race which isn’t male dominated!  I, myself, took photos at my first British race of the lines for the men’s porta-potty – because there were lines!  Races, especially for first-timers, can be a daunting experience.  From where to drop off your clothing to understanding where you should position yourself at a starting line, there are a plethora of things that one must learn in order to become a seasoned racer.

But most importantly of all, porta-potty etiquette is a MUST.

  1. When entering a porta-potty line do not loudly complain how long that line is.  We all know how long that line is, and reminding us only makes the bladder more likely to want to burst.
  2. Do not stare off behind you while in line as if something really amazing is back there.  The people behind you get nervous because it feels like you are staring at them.  Also, you will not be able to see the line move ahead in front of you.
  3. Do not allow your friends to join the line, especially if it is a really long line.
  4. Do not take children into the line in the last hour before the race.  You’ve got a large group of nervous people who are about to embark on a challenge, they do not wish to see 15 kids playing in the porta-potties with minutes to go before the starting gun.
  5. Do not wander to the porta-potty whilst having a deep and meaningful conversation with the person with you in line.  When a porta-potty opens up you immediately walk to that porta-potty and you go potty.  No time-wasting.
  6. Further, on exit from the porta-potty you hold the door open to denote to the people in line that this porta-potty is free and that they can walk to it directly.  Do not leap out of the porta-potty and run frantically away.  This causes some confusion in the line.
  7. Finally, do not be that person who thinks they can sneak into the porta-potties by casually wandering up and pulling on the doors before turning with surprise and saying, “Oh!  I didn’t realize there was a line!” and then attempt to cute your way to the front of a line of angry, bladder heavy runners.  Unless you are there two hours before the gun time or well after the race is over there is going to be a line. Always.

So there you have it, Gotta Go.  By following these simple etiquette tips you can make sure that a quick trip to the porta-potty is just that: QUICK.

Sincerely,

Miss Race Manners

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How to make yourself delusional

Posted in Running with tags , , on May 8, 2011 by cmerritt42

I ran the Blenheim 7K for the second time today.

For those unfamiliar with this race it is, by all accounts, an exercise in pure pain where they put the majority of the course uphill and the rest on uneven and rocky trail paths.  Provided you don’t twist your ankle or die of exhaustion as you limp your way upwards, you can be rewarded with a nice little medal and a cup of water.

In short, it’s a freaking amazingly awesome race.  And I say this because I am completely delusional.  You need the madness.  It’s necessary, vital.  Blenheim makes it possible.  Hard races make it possible.  Because then you have stories to tell yourself when the run gets hard.

For instance, I decided to join the Austin Half Marathon one month after running the Houston Half Marathon because I thought the medal was cute.  It was silver with a cut out of a guitar in the middle and little blue and orange stripes.  What I didn’t know at the time is that the Austin Half Marathon is ranked as one of the most difficult half marathons in Texas, primarily because mile 12 is entirely uphill.  I remember distinctly the moment at which my leg and butt muscles turned to jelly.  I remember being splayed in the back of the car, willing those muscles to engage long enough for me to sit.

So, when the steep climb upwards begins for the Blenheim 7K I remind myself that it only goes up steeply for 1K, not 1 mile.  I remind myself that at least two times a week I push a bike up a steep and rocky incline in order to cut 10 minutes off my cycle home.  I remind myself of the times early in running when I crossed the 5K marker at 47 minutes and thought I would never, ever be able to run faster or harder.

I also like to call up the fact that since my running problem started in Houston my whole race experience, until the moment I decided that I would try ice storms in England, consisted of a stretch of road called Memorial Drive.  That I’m now stupid lucky to live so close to a palace and that I am running around a huge man-made lake with glorious views of Oxfordshire countryside.  That tonnes of people never, ever will do this race, that I’ve got two legs and the ability to propel myself, and that if my legs ever fall off, get cut off, or have to be removed, I, in this one brief moment, accomplished something so few do.

When the calves started to really burn I think about the Disney World Half Marathon, where it was 85 degrees and marathoners where just giving up altogether for the duck medal instead of the mouse. (Back when you could do that, anyway.)  When I encounter another runner who is struggling I know that you can speak of the food rewards you’ll give yourself, and suddenly you’ll start running again, because there is ice cream waiting for you.

And when I finally make it to the downhill and round the corner to the blow-up finish line, there is that moment when the head clears of stories, of pain, and of promises of sugar.  It is that blissful realization that I have, in fact, made it through another race.  That despite PRs or splits or whatever I will get my little medal and nice cup of water and nobody will take it away from me.  Whatever delusions I experience as I race are worth it, because there will be a next race, and I’ll need that madness to get me through.  The hard races make it easier to tap into that.

And that is why the Blenheim 7K is so freaking awesome.  And necessary.

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Tomorrow.

Posted in Running with tags , , on April 25, 2011 by cmerritt42

Tomorrow will mark my third attempt to get into the London Marathon.

Three times, hopefully lucky.

It’s odd as I never really thought (before the age of 30 I should say) that I would ever become dedicated, even attached, to the notion of one day running the London Marathon.  Considering that I have run a marathon, and several very large half marathons before, to be fixated on one particular race is a bit awkward for me.

Perhaps it is because it is selective.  Take for instance the Boston Marathon, a marathon I will most likely never qualify for.  People work years to get into the Boston Marathon, because it is the Boston Marathon.  A race that has history, depth, might, glory.  London is sort of my Boston, because it has so much around it.  I know, when I make it in, there will be thousands of people who run just like me, so I can expect, even practice on the crowded Oxford streets, the heat and pace.  I’ve spectated it, so I am familiar with the never-ending crowds and water stations longer than some races are.  I am fully and totally aware that I am entering into a complete asinine situation.

And yet, I want this.

I want it because I can say I did it, because I know I will do it, because I know – as a marathoner – that once you finish a marathon no one can ever take it away from you.  Thing is, I know I want to run more marathons – many well away from London – but it is the notion, the thought, the idea of London that keeps my applying every year since I moved here.

So, tomorrow I do it again.  And if I don’t get in, there will be next year.  And the year after that.  But one of these times it will be my turn.

And I will finish.  And they won’t take it away.

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