RACE REPORT: THE DOME

So I didn't exactly write a race report for last Monday's track meet. I kept putting it off and now it doesn't make sense to write a full length post analyzing my results. I do however, wish to explain a little about it and why the meet was a mess.

It was 70 degrees outside so of course this would be an indoor meet. It was at the the dome which looks cool to run in but really isn't because the air is very dry.

I was supposed to run the 4x800 and the 1500. Two of my three teammates that were supposed to run in my relay, were sick and didn't come to the meet. This included JS who was also supposed to be in my 1500. Unless they took someone out of another 4x800 I would not get to run the relay. I decided to just run the 1500 because I was worried about how the dry air would affect my running. I was also worried about my 1500 because JS usually paces us. She somehow runs exact or negative splits and I've grown used to her always being there. Running with a teammate is always easier because they motivate you to run harder than you normally would.

I ran my race at around 7:35, more than 4 hours after we had arrived. The wait was terrible and I had lost some of my adrenaline. That, combined with everything else, made it worse. During the race, many of the coaches stood at the same spot so I couldn't hear my coach yelling my splits. All I could hear was people trying to yell over each other which didn't work at all. I didn't know how fast I was going and just adjusted my pace by how I felt. My rhythm just wasn't there either. I was passed right at the line by a girl I had passed a little before in the race. I could feel her coming up behind me but I just couldn't get the energy I needed. I know the strength was there but I just couldn't pick up the pace.

My coach predicted I would run 5:36. When he added up my splits after the race, he found that I had run 5:36. He was pretty proud of himself that he had guessed correctly but he also said that I was going in the right direction. This was a PR by 6 seconds but I think I can do even better, especially once I can get my rhythm going in a race.

MARCH MADNESS

Not only do I participate in my dad's march madness pool at his work, but 3 years ago, I won the pool and over $30. I mention this as often as possible because I like to remind me dad who hasn't won it before. I haven't won the college football bowl pool but because the NCAA tournament is much more important and more popular, I'm fine with just being the champion in basketball.

I filled out my brackets yesterday and it took me awhile. I have checked them against the AP top 25, my dad's bracket, Obama's bracket, and some genius who correctly predicted last year's final four, championship game, and champion based on a computer model. They are now finalized and although I won't be able to take an extra long lunch break to watch some of the games like some people, I do plan on watching many of them.

Final Four (because I don't want to list them all):

Louisville over Michigan St.
Memphis over UConn
Villinova over Pittsburgh (Duke is and always will be overrated)
UNC over Syracuse

Championship game: Memphis over UNC

NOT EASY

"It doesn't get easier, you just go faster." -Greg Lemond

(My race report from yesterday's meet is in the process of being typed but this post is about today's run. And how it completely sucked.)

I've always liked that Greg Lemond quote and now I have an excuse to use it. My run backs up the claim he made.

Many of the distance girls have been sick including my fast teammate JS who was also gone for the meet. One of the girls (RB) was back though and she was running on fresher legs than I was. We were told to do 6 miles so I decided to go about 8 minute pace as long as I could beat RB. My legs didn't feel too tired which was surprising and it was really nice out, almost 75 degrees in March. It was a little too warm for a nice run so the weather had some effect on me. It was also St. Patrick's Day which, because I am a redhead and Irish, should have given me extra strength to run with.

The first mile was in 7:52 which was good. RB was a little behind me which was also good. My legs began to get more tired throughout the run but I was at the halfway mark at 23:27. RB was running about 20ft behind me and I wasn't sure how she felt. I knew I shouldn't have been racing her, but I really wanted to beat her, as I usually did, not only because I'm competitive but to show my coach that I was continuing my improvement.

After I turned back, my legs became exhausted. I was fighting every step and not concentrating on my form, which is evident by my almost tripping (again) on a piece of the trail. I couldn't dwell on my embarrassing moment because I was having trouble just moving forward. The urge to walk was strong but I knew I couldn't no matter how hard it became because I had come beyond the giving up hope and walking thing, and RB was closing the gap. I refused to look at my watch until I got to 1.5 left (35:35) but even then I could feel my remaining energy leaving. My legs had become numb, I could hardly lift them up and so it became a step at a time.

The 6th mile was hard. I had passed a few of the 5 mile girls but because I refused to look back, I wasn't sure how far behind RB was (for some reason this still mattered). Running up a hill with about a half mile to go, a sprinter was running the opposite way and passing me, smiling and telling me I was doing a good job. As nice as this was, I felt like smacking her and screaming. I was going as fast as I could yet it felt like I was barely moving. My legs were so very tired and my good form had been gone miles ago.

I reached the parking lot of my school ready to fall to the ground. A quick glance showed me that I had actually increased my gap but I still sprinted, slowly, the last few feet. As soon as I came to the grass, I flopped to the ground and sat, which felt very nice. When my coach asked me how it went, I told him that it was terrible. He seemed genuinely concerned but I had no reason for why it was so hard. My meet shouldn't have had that much effect but neither should the heat. My run just incredibly sucked.

My time for 6 miles was 48:22. The last 3 miles were done in 24:55, more than a minute slower than the first half. I don't have an explanation for why it was so hard, but it was. I may have gotten a lot faster but it's still not easy.

PARIS-NICE

I have been so busy blogging about my running that I have failed to mention the Paris-Nice. Not that I was able to watch or follow any of it live, but I did check up on the results every now and then.

My thoughts on the race (results) would be as follows:

1. I thought Alberto Contador would win or at least Frank Schleck. Contador had the most emotional encouragement in my view, so I thought that would help him to the top. Plus he's had a lot of wins lately so I didn't think he'd crack. Not a good stage to have a bad day on.

2. Why does the name Luis León Sánchez of the Caisse d'Epargne team, sound so familiar? He didn't look like anybody I remembered until I thought that he was the guy who wore the yellow shoes and won a TdF stage last year. I looked at many photos before I found one that showed his feet, but when I found it, he was wearing the yellow shoes. I have confirmed his identity and found that yes, he won Stage 7 of the 2008 TdF and was wearing yellow shoes.

3. Are the Chavanel brothers the only successful French riders in the peloton?

4. Why is Contador always pointing his finger when he wins? It's getting a bit creepy the way he's continually doing it.

5. Sanchez did a great job winning this race. It's always nice to see somebody else from a different team win every once in awhile.

ANOTHER PR

Today I flew.

On my 6 mile run there was nobody to push me because some of my teammates weren't able to come to practice. So I had to push myself. I probably should've taken an easy day but my first mile was in 7:34. I fell into my rhythm and hit the halfway mark in 22:29 which is on pace for 45 minutes. My legs made me feel like I was just cruising along and had given me no idea of how fast I was going. Once I figured out that I only had to run 7:50 miles on the way back to get under 46 minutes and that I had the possibility of getting around 45 minutes, which had seemed like my new unreachable number.

My feet felt like they were barely touching the ground in the second half. They were getting a bit tired but my legs felt good. My nose was dripping all over which created a small problem but when I passed some of the girls up a hill on the way back, I forgot about it. I did something uncharacteristic of me, I ran the second half faster in 22:02.

That gives me a time of 44:31. My teammate told me that I had been a beast on my run and I'm inclined to agree. My coach told me I shouldn't have tried to PR but sometimes you don't get the option of choosing. Yes, it was probably stupid and my legs will start to hurt but I had to do it. Sometimes you have to fly.

By the way, my new 6 mile PR is almost 2 minutes less than the previous one. This was also run only a few days after a race, which makes it even better.

SHOWING OFF

Yesterday, in track practice, my calves hurt. A lot. But not as much as they have before. Which is good.

Most of the boy's and girl's team was doing this pacer test which involved running back and forth across the gym and making it to the line before the beeps which speeded up. My coach gave JS and I the option of running the pacer test or jogging around the gym because we had run about twice as much as everybody else. Guess which one we chose.

Jogging around a gym is even less exciting then you might think, which we realized after a minute or two. We were watching everyone else do the test and we agreed that most of the team, both boys and girls, completely sucked. The top girl made it to level six with 18 more to run before she dropped out. And many of the boys, although I think it was their second time so I'll give them some slack, were terrible. It didn't even look that hard and nobody seemed to be going that fast which made me think that maybe we should try it.

While we were discussing how badly in shape everyone was, our legs were loosening up and feeling better. JS brought up the idea which I had been thinking about, why don't we try to do the pacer test? I told her we should show everyone how to do it and so we jumped in for the second start.

Needless to say, we dominated. Neither JS or I had even discussed the possibility of not finishing the test and we weren't about to give each other the honor of being the final girl. We both ended up being the only girls to finish the pacer test (eight levels and 70 straights altogether) although it was a little harder then it looked. Towards the end, when I could feel Tuesday's race in my legs, we still didn't know how many levels there was altogether. I was hoping there was only a few left and it was confirmed by one of the distance guys that was running next to us (who finished every time) who told us that we were almost done. And thankfully we were, so we got the priviledge of being one of the few to finish.

Our coach didn't say much after that but he was smiling so I think he was glad we decided to run it. He did tell us later that we couldn't do another (although I kind of wanted to do another) but I think he also wanted us to run it at least once to prove something to the sprinters. Which brought up the reason why we ran it in the first place. It should've been an easy day and we didn't have to do it. We chose to do it.

I think the main reason, although there was more than one, is that we wanted to show off. JS and I love racing and the only thing better than racing people you don't know, is racing (and beating) people you do know. We wanted to show that at least some of the girls were good and prove to those same girls that we were better.

It's also because we wanted to race the boys. Ever since I was a little kid, I have loved racing boys because they get so upset when a girl beats them. They still do. JS and I were just as excited to beat them now then when we did years ago. And considering how many of them didn't finish at least one (although some finished them all which I'll give them credit for), we were showing them that yes, there are girls that can still beat them. One of our purposes was to impress both track teams which I think we might've achieved judging by the compliments we later received.

A LITTLE BIT OF GREATNESS: RACE REPORT

My coach can be a jerk sometimes. I have went through many days where I can't stand him. Many, many days. He's the type of person who makes you feel that he doesn't care about you. He doesn't yell at us but he lets us know that he is very unhappy. I've been told on certain days that we've accomplished nothing or that we just plain suck. He used to expect us to run hard everyday until he began running again over the winter (which has made him a much nicer person and a better coach because he know's what we go through). He does have his good days, which can be very strange, but on those days the workouts seem easier.

Our team, both xc and distance track, do not get a lot of encouragement from him. At meets he wanders around by himself and doesn't talk to us except to yell during the race, if he does that. We don't get pep talks but then again, we also don't get post meet disappointment talks or any other talk. Yet we also don't get "congratulations" or "good jobs" unless we really did extremely well and accomplished something big. And no matter how much you tell yourself after races that you don't care what he says or what he thinks, you do care. His opinion can turn a good day into a bad day or make your good days so much better. His congratulations mean so much more because they are rare. He's not going to give false compliments but he will let you know when you've achieved something great. He is part of the reason that made this meet so special.

We left school around 12:30 and settled in for a nervous, 1:15 hour bus ride. This was a varsity meet, although there were only a few schools we regularly ran against, and it was to be on a 200m indoor track. And lucky me, I, along with my fast teammate JS, received the honor of running the 3000m. That's 15 laps, although it sounds longer than it actually is. I was even more nervous however, since I've only ran one 3000 about two years ago. It was the first meet of the year and a chance to show off how good I had become.

After we arrived at the college where the meet was being held, at around 3:10 JS and I began warming up with some slow laps around the track. We received the news that the state cross country champion was supposed to be in our heat because they weren't splitting us up by time. By the time we agreed on the number of times we would get lapped by her (at least twice), we found out that the heats were now by time so we would be in the second heat. Relief settled upon us but we were still worried about getting lapped because it was, after all, only a 200m track. 3000 meters leaves plenty of time for embarrassment, because if you suck, everyone knows you suck. We left those thoughts behind though once every bit of moisture left our throats. The air was incredibly dry, like all indoor meets, and having a bit of stuffy nose/sore throat, I was worried about it. Everyone had to deal with the same conditions though so that didn't leave me any excuses. I was also unsure on what shoes to wear. I had brought my spikes but following the first meet, whether xc or track, my calves hurt badly and I can't walk without being in pain. My coach told me to just wear my trainers so I ran with my regular shoes that happen to have bright pink shoelaces (others have them too, it's an xc related story).

After some stretching and strides, we headed over to the starting line which was on the opposite side of where you would think it was, so in other words it was a backwards track. We waited for the first heat to finish (state xc champion 10:43, second place 11:35, which meant she not only lapped every single person who ran the 3000m but she lapped others in her own heat twice) and we had those nervous conversations with the other runners that always take place right before a race. Once we stepped onto the track my nervousness went away, as it usually does, because there was no way of getting out of it. The directions were explained to us as we did last minute stretches and then we got ready to go. At this point, when the starter guy told us to "get set" we should've moved forward to another line. None of us did though because no one else did, so there was some stress relieving laughter at our mistake. And then we were off.

JS had somehow decided our goal should be 12:00. I was counting on her to help pace me because my splits are all over the place while she's one of those people who runs exact or negative splits. She knows how to race so I trusted her with the 48 second laps. I was still having trouble believing I could keep up with her because she has always seemed like an unreachable runner although she's a year younger. She believed in me though, so we planned to run together.

Our first lap was 51 seconds (only 14 to go!) which made me finally believe that maybe, just maybe I could keep up with these girls. It was slower than our projected pace and my legs felt pretty good. We had started out in the back, like my coach always tells us to (not that I have a choice most of the time), and since the pace wasn't increasing, we went around the three wide pack. All of a sudden there was only two girls in front of us. Dressed in purple and yellow, they were teammates and seemed to increase the gap with each lap. JS was running good and our laps (which I was still counting down) which my coach was helpfully yelling, were at 49 seconds.

When we had 8 laps left, the race began to feel very long. I couldn't believe we were still not halfway and my legs started to get a twinge of tiredness. I tried to push all these negative thoughts out of my head with the thought of the cyclists I idolize and the recent Paris-Nice ITT. I told myself this was my time trial and that I had to give it all just like those riders did. And then we had seven (7!) laps left and we were over halfway done.

This was when my coach began to yell "you can move up, if you want". This uncharacteristically pleasant shouting threw me off a little but I began noticing that JS and I had actually been decreasing the gap between the front girls and us for awhile. It still seemed we had a ways to go though so I didn't think much about what lay ahead of them.

In the middle of one of the laps, one of the front girls began to fall back. It was slow, hardly noticable, just like JS who was increasing our pace. She caught the girl and all of a sudden I did too. We were running 2-3 which made me think of our jokes before the race with another teammate. We had been saying that "the bell would ring for us" (on the last lap) and that we "were going to finish 1-2" (in our own heat). The possibility of this crossed my mind briefly at this moment but I dismissed it because something extraordinary was happening.....I was lapping people. I was lapping people, people who began the race in front of me, I was a lap ahead of them. And I had been worried about being lapped. I know that when you're being lapped, it is very depressing but lapping someone feels amazing. That feeling became even more amazing when half a lap later, JS moved into the lead.

I was cheering her on in my mind but then I also became aware of what this meant. My teammate also helped me realize this by shouting it at me "1-2, let's go 1-2". My coach thankfully didn't yell it, probably because he was in a state of shock that we were even in this position. I then realized that I had the ability to do something great. JS was doing her part so I had to do mine. We had the chance to make our coach so happy so I was going to do everything possible to achieve the unexpected.

I caught the second place girl with around two laps to go. I ran right beside her until I felt I was wasting energy in the second lane, so I moved slightly behind her. When the bell rang, it rang for JS just as we had joked it would. At this point, I was mentally cheering and throwing up my arms. We were going to do this. There was no way she was going to be caught, and by the way she took off once she heard that bell (on a 40 second lap), she was going to win our heat. She was the 1, now I had to go get that 2.

As soon as I crossed the line, with only one lap to go, I began to sprint. I passed the girl but she didn't try to pass me. She didn't go faster, just kept the same pace. I was hoping she wasn't going to pass me up right at the line and to make sure that wasn't going to happen, I ran. Fast. I gave it my all to get to that line. When JS crossed the line in front, I felt like celebrating. It made me think of pro cycling when one teammate wins and the other also puts his arms up. I couldn't figure out why, because wouldn't you want to be the one to win? At that moment however, I knew why they did that because I felt like doing the same. I left my thoughts of cycling behind as I sprinted the last meters of the race.

I crossed the line 11 seconds later in second place. We had gotten our 1-2 finish. I walked five feet to JS with a big smile on my face where she stood with an equally large smile. We high fived each other and she told me that what we had done was awesome. I didn't care what my time was or about my overall finish. I cared only about our heat, our race, which we had swept.

When JS and I walked over to our coach, he told us how amazing we were. He also told us we had used a good race strategy (slow start and in the back, then slowly passing people) and looked like he wanted to hug us. He was absolutely estastic and so where we.

The rest of the meet (which ended about 4.5 hours after our race) was spent wandering around in a daze. My coach kept coming up to us and making little comments. My favorite was not one making fun of the sprinters but one about JS and I. He came up to us and actually said "you guys are just wandering around in all your awesomeness." I knew then that my coach was incredibly proud of us and his happiness did not diminish all night, not in the cold or because of the sprinters.

Our first indoor meet this year was a great way to start off the season. My coach is still dumbfounded at what we achieved on Tuesday which was probably why he asked us for training suggestions. The race wasn't all about my coach though, it was about what my teammate and I had done over the winter and were now showing off. That small bit of greatness we accomplished has left me wanting more however, and I'm willing to work even harder to get it.

3000m

Time: 12:20

Heat finish: 2nd

Overall finish: 10th

TOUCHING THE FLOOR

It has been over 2 weeks since I have last posted but in my defense, I have been busy. It started with the week before finals and all the projects that came with it and then the week of finals consists of studying. Plus, I've been having difficulties thinking up topics to write about because my running has been going pretty nicely. Of course, that changed on Friday.

We were given a day off a school and because of our conflicting schedules, our newly nice coach decided to let us run on our own. In retrospect, this was a bad decision. We had a track workout consisting of 16 200's at 45 seconds with varying breaks on Thursday but I thought a 5 mile tempo run on Friday sounded good.

It was beautiful on Friday with temperatures above 50 degrees. This motivated me although I was running by myself. The first half I was struggling with a fast pace, my legs felt good but my stomach didn't. It felt like I was running on empty, but I wasn't. Looking back, I was probably partly dehydrated because I was just getting used to the temperatures. On the way back, I was forced to take two walking breaks before I found my rhythm again.

I was moving steadily, although a bit slowly, when I tripped on the sidewalk about a half mile from my school. I'm still not sure what exactly happened; I know I wasn't watching my feet so I might've been looking back at the traffic to find a place to cross the street or I might've been concentrating on my form. All I do know is that suddenly I was on the ground and had literally rolled into a dirt pile. My first thought was "what the heck just happened?" before standing up and looking around to make sure there were few witnesses to my lapse in gracefullness.

I then assessed my injuries and determined that although my palms were burning, they were only scraped and that the dirt caked to my shirt would come off. The focus of my attention was then on my right leg which had received some road rash. There was a big spot near my knee that was bleeding but my leg didn't hurt until twenty minutes later when it became extremely painful. The rest of me seemed okay so after a walking break where I regained my composure, I ran back so I could get my miles in.

Luckily, I had brought water with me so I could wash my palms and leg off. When I began driving home, I noticed that my right elbow was scraped up, similar to a teammate who tripped and fell on Thursday after coming into contact with a sprinter in lane one. The majority of my injuries was on my leg however, but it didn't look as bad when I cleaned it off.

On Saturday though, I found that both my hips were bruised, with my right one being the worst. I am no longer able to put pressure on my right side or cross my legs. Even an accidental touch to my bruise is painful. And I am sick. A runny nose combined with a shortage of Kleenex and a sore throat does not bode well for my first indoor track meet of the year on Tuesday. I have taken the rainy weekend off however, to rest up and heal in order to be in prime shape for my meet. Hopefully, it will work and I will be feeling better so I can show off what my training has achieved.