Patience; the new endurance sport.

Chilly, clear, beautiful fall day.  I overate yesterday due to fresh corn on the cob and dulce de leche cake--and also lack of self control from unintentionally starving myself on Friday.  I feel heavy and slow.  I am equally balanced right now between trying to clear my mind of preconceived notions about Saturday and visulizing myself getting to business on the course.  I do like to race and try to see what I can do, but I hate running in front of people.  Everyone loves big races for the 'energy' of racing 'for the croud'.  I must run too slow, because I can hear people's conversations and can feel their eyes and judgement about my flabby upper arms from eating too much cake on Sundays.  I am excited to see my California running friends and to have another St. George experience. 

I am having a hard time believing it will be 40 degrees tommorrow morning. I was pretty overheated wearing a long sleve t shirt today.  I'm not looking forward to the cold and am worried about how long it might take me to warm up on Saturday. I had a hard time warming up this morning, it took two good miles before I felt good. All I could think about was how I never 'warmed up' ever last SGM.  I hate all the psycho pre-marathon hypochondria.  I have to remind myself how happy I am I can run, and to have another few hours on my legs out in the desert canyons of Southern Utah.  I ran Utah Valley to make up for the terrible experience I had last year, but the truth is, I won't feel vindicated until I get to St. George and run the dang race again. I just want so much to have a 'good race,'one I can be proud of.  But running a good race takes me so much concentration and effort and I doubt myself. Hobble Creek was a very good race for me, the best I've ever run, but all I can think about is how I had just come back from vacation, happy, strong and well conditioned having run two full weeks on soft sand--and that more than half the course was downhill.  I want to believe I have it in me to be tough 26.2 miles, but digging deep for that long hurts and it's scary. Which I guess is why I want to conquer it.

Let's hear it for thunder and lightening!  I love it when the weather changes suddenly.  It's so exciting.  Last night the house shook and the windows rattled (a better light show is just one of the benefits of living close to the lake). It was thrilling.  After the lightning passed, I opened the window and sat in the dark to listen to the rain and the new rush of the river.  I am so ready for a change.  Not that I don't love summer, I just love fall more.  When I got out on to the trail this morning, it was still raining and the road was shiny black with rain.  There were fallen branches everywhere, and the river was swollen with muddy water.  The greens and yellows of the trees were intensified by the wet and softened daylight.  Everything was so poignant and lovely in its own dying.   The trail was deliciously lonely and as I ran along, I felt so ready to take on St. George.  It's easy to feel that way when I only have 3 miles to run.  I think it's the other 23.2 I'm sort of worried about....

Man two miles was fun.  It felt so good, my legs and hips felt good, my energy was good.  I was really happy until I got home and weighed myself.  I have gained 5 pounds since last week.  This always happens.  The second I stop using all those calories for running, my body greedily claims and tucks them away--survival mode.  I don't relish the idea of being fluffy right before the race, I imagine it's like running with an extra 5lb sack of flour.  But every time it's toss up between eating healthy (good complex carbs and lean proteins) before the race or being hungry,cranky, and anxious before the race just so I don't gain any weight.  That said, I don't think that cake last Sunday did me any favors.  The good news is, I feel pretty good.

5,617 finishers, 309 women in my age division.  The big news is I qualified for Boston!  I came into this race under ideal circumstances.  I was well healthy (no injuries), rested, well fed, introduced interval/speed to my regular mileage training (including weeks of running on soft sand in late July).  There was not a single reason I could not succeed at this race. Even the weather was spectacular, warm at the right times, cool toward the end.  The only negative of the whole SGM experience, is that unfortunately I only got an hour, yes I said one hour of sleep.  We were acting like kids until 11:00 and then when I went to bed, I never slept and when I did I dreamed we missed the busses and ran the race at noon with no water stations or support volunteers.  Anyway, we loaded the busses at 4:30, and it was a gorgous night.  The moon was full, the stars were out and we were all relieved it was not raining when we got off the busses.  We all felt so positive about the run, but of course you just don't know how it's going to go until you start running. Bumped into Walter pre race and a ton of other friends.  Got to the fires, stretched and went to the bathrooms.  We let a lot of time pass after the start.  None of us like to push our way through the croud in the dark and so we waited until we were the last people to cross the start.  I had no idea how many minutes and assumed it was about 8.  My goal was to run steady and strong on the flat sections, turn on my 'smooth' inspired downhill speed, and take it slow on the up hills.  My splits reflect this strategy and are all over the place.  I have to say that my effort was so concentrated, I really don't remember much about the running.  I had an ongoing dialogue in my head for 26 miles:  This is what I said over and over  in my head: There is not one excuse to try your hardest today/just try and see what happens/what would Michelle/Josse do right now (they'd keep going)/I am made of diamonds and titanuim/speed it up/don't worry just keep going.  I promise you I never looked at the landscape, the people, I heard nothing, I saw nothing.  I ran, and ran, and ran and played games to pass the miles (I'll run tthe first 20 miles and then turn it on high gear,  I'll drink at every 2 miles, I'll eat an orange and banana every time they have them, I'll stop for a bit at 13 and 23,  I'll take elecrolyte strips at 17, the next 5 miles to 22 will be just like my regular morning run/I'll just keep running to the end even though I'm tired).  The first miles were warm ups and spent going in and out of runners.  It was flat and a little down hill.  I found ways to relax my sholders and arms and move my feet fast until Veyo: 8:09/8:48/8:04/8:09/8:12/7:47/7:53

I love when they say SGM is a 'downhill marathon'  you do realize miles 7-14 are seriously uphill right? Hill at Veyo 9:42 (the rest of the inclinel) 9:11/8:59/9:35/10:00

Hit 13.1 at 1:47 (best half marathon time yet) and wondered how I cold keep it up but kept going.  I never even looked up from 13-20 except the last hill when my calves began to cramp. 8:38/9:02/8:07/8:03/8:17/8:34/8:56/8:17. I had to really focus to keep this pace so steady on those flat miles.  I did not look up, around I just looked at the ground or straight ahead and talked to myself.  I didn't even let my mind wander and when it did I'd look to my Garmin and tell myself to pick up the pace and that I'd take a breather at 23.  8:34/8:56  now are the splits I'm most proud of --I was exhausted, but it was downhill and I was determined to make the best of it even though I was out of gas 8:17/7:50  two more flat miles 9:29/8:42 (stopped and walked thorugh the fruit, gatorade statin and stretched).  Started downhill toward town 8:05/ kept the pace getting through town 9:03/9:02-- that finisher's corridor was the longest thing I have ever done--but I kept a steady pace and never faltered even though the red balloon alley went on ad infitium.  The clock time read 4:00 straight up when I crossed and I stood in the water mister and cried that I had not qualified for Boston and with all that effort didn't beat my best time.  I got my sandstone finisher's medal, saw the Kellies, and laid on the grass in the most delicously delirious moment of collapse.  I then realized my Chip time would be different than the clock.  The lady checked my number and gave me the sticker that read my time was 3:47:18--I hid my face in my hands and started to cry again and the lady had to ask if I was ok.  I told her I was surprized and happy to learn that I had just qualified for Boston.  I then turned around, stuffed my face into the shirt I had tied around my waist and cried about everything there was to cry about from the past 3 years. Then I found Catherine, Duane, Diana and walked the mile home to the condo.  Catherine also qualified for Boston with a time of 3:29, Diana too.  Duane wrecked his calf at mile 20, and came in around 4:00 (his time every other year has been 3:30).  We were all very pleased with the day, the race, and yet another great SGM party.