Race Report: The Louisiana Marathon (Geaux Run!)

This past weekend saw my triumphant return to marathoning! For selfish purposes, we will officially define triumphant as "I finished."

I had a reasonably healthy perspective going into the race. I'm only eight months removed from stepping on a rock and rolling my ankle so violently that I snapped the bottom of my tibia. I'm only five months removed from a total running restriction. And, I'm only three and a half months removed from week one of this particular marathon training schedule. I figured 14 training weeks would be plenty for a seasoned marathoner like me. This was #7, after all. 

I failed to account for the fact that the marathon doesn't give credit based on past history. That 26.2 mile ribbon of pavement just wants to know, what have you done for me lately, baby. And my lately wasn't quite enough to run a race defined by anything other than "just finish." 

The great news: the Louisiana Marathon is a jewel of a race. It had everything going for it: 1) within driving distance of home; 2) a state I haven't run yet; 3) flat and fast; 4) January in the south; and added bonus, 5) the Marathon Maniacs reunion race. All of that before I get to the fact that it's an incredibly well run race just the right size for this small-race-loving runner. 

My friend Mary and I headed down on Friday: while it's within driving distance of home, it's a full day's drive, and we pulled into Baton Rouge around 6PM ready for dinner and hotel check in. We were tired, and not that interested in making a production out of finding dinner, so we hit the Japanese sushi and hibachi all you can eat buffet next door to the hotel. I'm sorry to say, that is an indicator of what (in retrospect) were poor pre-race food choices. It was cheap, quick and filling, though, so in the moment, I was happy. After the weeks I've had at work recently, I was so looking forward to crashing on the bed, reading for a little while, and staring at the backs of my eyelids for as many hours as possible. 

Success! I slept uninterrupted, without an alarm set, and woke up a solid eight hours later. We eased into the morning, putzing around the room for a bit, then headed out for an easy couple of miles. It was a beautiful day; winter in Louisiana felt a lot more like Houston than Fayetteville, and we enjoyed the sunshine even with the little bit of chill there was on the air. In fact, we enjoyed it so much we didn't go quite as easy as intended, but hey - it was only a couple of miles, so what could it hurt, right?

As this is only the third year for the Louisiana Marathon and the total field on Sunday is still just a few thousand people, the expo / packet pickup didn't open until 11AM, and there was no maddening crush of bodies. Score.

We were some of the first people there, and I didn't start out on the best note: I went to get my packet, and it wasn't in the box. The volunteer hypothesized that they might have accidentally given it to another runner, and I would need to see about getting a replacement. Um, what? Not that I plan to be an age group winner, but won't that mess up my official time if someone else is wearing my number? I dutifully walked down the row to the Woman In Black for help, and ended up in the VIP room. There was no lost number - I'm a Marathon Maniac, my friend, which for this race makes me a VIP!! Suh-weet!!! I knew when I signed up there would be a Maniac photo and a lot of other Maniacs running, but I didn't realize there were the additional benefits of a beanie, a special medal ribbon, and admission to the post-race VIP area. Not gonna lie, I kind of felt like a Big Deal. 

Now having whipsawed from packet-mistakenly-given-away to you're-a-big-deal, it was time to hit the vendor booths. The very first one was for the Marathon itself, and they had some excellent swag for sale. Their logo is one of the neatest I've seen: a cypress tree and the bayou contained inside of a shoe print. Hard to get more Louisiana than that. Of course, I'm too cheap to buy much of anything, so I longed for a postcard, eyed the long sleeved tech shirts, admired the coffee mugs, and moved on. 

The expo had everything you could want: the local running store, local (and delicious) natural granola, booths for several regional races, a running-inspired jewelry vendor, and all the race apparel and running stickers/swag you could want. I had to swing by the Sweaty Bands booth to check out the new goods, but managed to back away slowly without parting ways with any of my personal wealth. I think that's a first for me at a race expo. When we got to the booth selling the race belts that hold a phone, your keys and (the holy grail) don't bounce, I couldn't pass up a good deal. Mary and I got the joint purchase discount, though, so really, I saved money by buying it. Shopper logic. Just trust me. 

And it's sweet: I wore it during the race and it is officially a must-have piece of gear for me now. No more leaving my keys in the gas tank while I run! (Don't judge. It's a small town with low crime and besides, it's a red Chevy Impala. I don't think they show up on the most-stolen list with any regularity.) Race day bonus: I can carry my phone with me the whole time, which means start line and finish line pictures. Given that I rarely have an entourage at races, I'm now officially winning. 

Having spent just enough money to minimally stimulate the local economy, we did some sight seeing on a micro scale outside of the River Center. A gorgeous day, we turned our faces to the sunshine, walked down to the water for a few minutes, quickly acknowledged our need to get off of our feet, and we headed back to the hotel where we relaxed and each knocked out some work for the rest of the afternoon. 

My lunch choice seemed good at the time: loaded baked potato and some cheddar broccoli soup. I'm lucky enough to not have food/stomach issues, so throwing down an overload of carbs worked for me. Come dinner time, my choices went downhill. We went to a great local place called the City Cafe with friends of friends, and thoroughly enjoyed the pure Baton Rouge atmosphere. Understandably, I wasn't willing to take a chance on gumbo, boudin balls or étouffée on the night before the race, so I made what may have been the worst choice possible: just a couple of sides - some butter-sautéed vegetables and mashed potatoes (that were out of this world, but still). Throw in some sweet potato fries picked off of my friend's plate, and that's my pre-race dinner of champions. 

No meat. No protein. Not even an adult sized food serving. Official fail. Didn't realize it at the time, but race day morning before mile eight, there was no doubt. More on that in a moment.

Race day morning: perfect. I mean, PERFECT. Check out this race morning forecast:

Wake up time was 5AM, which is actually sleeping in for me and Mary vs. a regular run day. Rice cake and peanut butter consumed; fully dressed; ready to go. 

Ten minute drive to the start line, free parking, and a two minute walk to join the group of runners. Added bonus: race belt with phone meant pre-race pictures!!

Since it was the Rendezvous on the Bayou, that meant getting a group shot of all of the Maniacs, too. As a VIP, it also meant private porta-potties. Runners talk about bodily functions and the availability of facilities with the same regularity and lack of sensitivity as a parent of a newborn. Private porta-potties? Reason for celebration. Standing in line for them, I even had a Maniac celebrity sighting: Steve Yee, Main Maniac #1, one of the founders of what I affectionately refer to as the Nerd Club for Runners!

my selfie skills need some work

Small enough race that there were no corrals, and I'm guessing a small enough race that most of the runners were not new to this rodeo, so no walkers at the front, ifyouknowwhatImean. I found the 3:45 pace group with the intent to hang with them as long as possible, and chatted with my fellow runners awaiting the start.

My distinctly Aggie paraphernalia from the Brazos Running Company got several comments, all of a good nature. Given that I was in the heart of LSU Tiger country, I thought that was gracious. Of course, most of the people who said something were self-proclaimed Texans, so there's that.

Then it was time - we were off. From the start, I felt anxious, strangely so given that I really thought my only goal was to finish. Ha - nice try, practical brain. Competitive brain ditched that idea as soon as I crossed the timing mat, and I unintentionally set myself up for frustration for pretty much the entire 26.2 miles. I hung with the pace group for quite a while; in fact, going back and looking at my splits, I made my classic, pretty much every race mistake. I WENT OUT TOO FAST. Um, hello mile 2.

I had all of 14 weeks of training that included approximately zero speed workouts. Okay, maybe two or three if you count unintentional tempo runs. In my practical brain, doesn't-matter-what-my-finish-time-is planning, I had decided that I wouldn't check my Garmin for my pace throughout the race. I would run my race, I wouldn't worry about going faster, and I would enjoy it for the sheer pleasure of running. What I didn't realize is, I need to check my watch because I'm an idiot and can't pace myself or avoid running too fast. You learn something with every race...

As I ran the course in downtown Baton Rouge, through the campus of LSU, and on Lakeshore Drive around University Lake where the homes and views are breathtaking, I more and more fixated on how lousy I felt. I knew I was going too fast; my heart rate was too high; it was mile 6 and I still wasn't in a rhythm. Still, I ran through beautiful Louisiana neighborhoods, on streets lined with live oaks, their limbs reaching across the course creating a canopy of southern charm. I saw crowds wearing a lot of purple and gold, cheering for the runners and their efforts. I tried to focus on the joy of the race, the privilege of my return to health, the novelty of my Louisiana race. By mile 8, my mind began its revolt, with niggling doubts that I even wanted to run this race today. 

I hung in there between mile 8 and 11, beating back the negative thoughts, but by the halfway point, it was too much. I succumbed to the physical meltdown and focused on the elation I knew would come at the finish line. I took a quick walk break for fluids at mile 11, picked it back up, but by mile 14 had eased into a run/walk pattern. 

Unlike Houston, when I only had to stop for fluids a couple of times, I was shotgunning Powerade and chasing it with water every couple of miles. On top of that, completely out of character for me, by mile 10 I had already eaten a Clif Shot Block, downed an entire Stinger gel by mile 12, and seriously considered another one around 16. Again, in the past, it's been a half or maybe a full gel around mile 18, and that's it. My food choices had definitely come back to haunt me - my elevated heart rate and the feeling of teetering on the edge of hunger during a marathon are terrible things to try and work through when you're not on your game.

As I made the turnaround and found myself in the home stretch, I had already been passed by the four hour pace group, so I knew that was out of reach for the day. I was unreasonably let down and even annoyed by that - it wasn't like I had trained with a time goal in mind. In fact, just the opposite. I had trained trying to give myself permission to "just finish" this one, because my ankle still isn't pain free and back to normal. The competitive fires aren't out, I guess, just banked for a while. Because I still want the sub-4:00 time. It just wasn't in the cards for that day, as the back half proved to be my downfall.

Despite all of the self-inflicted problems, the mental gymnastics to stay focused on the finish, and the steadily slowing pace, I did, of course, reach the finish line. Official finish time: 4:12:16. Eighteen months ago, I would've thought myself a superstar, running a marathon with an average 9:33 pace. This year, I was mildly let down and mentally hazing myself for my poor physical and mental preparation. 

I've been working all week on changing that attitude. I mean, I run for the bling, right? Not only was this an excellent medal, I got the added bonus of the Marathon Maniac ribbon.

And my life list includes running a race in all 50 states, right? State #7, done. Thank you, Louisiana. Or as they might say in Cajun country, "Mesi!"

More importantly, I think, this race reinforced that I run for me. I run for the feeling of accomplishment. I run for the conversation with great friends. I run for the need to work off the stress of my paying job. I run so that I can eat potato chips. I run to be healthy. I run so that I can wear the skinny jeans that hang in my closet. I run to show my kids that staying fit is just part of your daily routine, not a big production or major project. 

I run because I can, when just a few months ago, I couldn't. So thank you, Louisiana Marathon. You said Bienvenue and put on an excellent race to celebrate my return to the sport I love. In that, I am triumphant.

Race Report: Garmin Marathon in the Land of Oz

I got lucky - I picked a great race to round out my spring marathon season. Last Saturday, I ran the Garmin Marathon in Olathe, KS - you know, the Land of Oz! I heard about this race from my friend Jeff, and in my quest for 50 states, this sounded like an excellent option to cross off the Sunflower State.

I managed to talk a couple of girlfriends into joining me in Oz, and got lucky to also connect with a couple of other girlfriends who live in the area. Girls' weekend!! Friday morning, I got the kids off to school, then headed over to Sarah's house to pick her up and head north.

Best thing about going to races that are within driving distance: no bag limit for travel!!

The drive from NW Arkansas to Kansas City is easy. Unfortunately for me - and even more so for Becca - my navigational abilities are suspect even when aided by Google Maps. After a couple of wrong turns I managed to get to KC International, and we were off to packet pick up. Notice I didn't say expo - this was accurately billed as, "packet pick up." I do love small races, but the trade off is the lack of a big expo hall filled with vendors selling things I didn't realize I desperately needed until right.that.very.minute. (My budget thanks you, Garmin Marathon.)

Check out the flags. I think this was in between gusts.

The packet pick up and a couple of local vendors were set up in the parking lot of Garmin International's headquarters. Cool. Kansas wind: not cool. It was blowing like we were on the open plains, and while I expected some wind, this was disconcerting at the least. Good thing my stated race strategy was: wake up on race morning and let the weather be the primary dictator of my strategy. Reduces the chance for disappointment.

Got our packets, went inside to check out a cool digital fly-through of the race course, took a couple of pictures, then off to the hotel. Check in, get settled, then head out for an early dinner with Anne.

Everywhere you go, there you are - especially if you went to West Point and have friends and classmates scattered all over the U.S. Olathe is only about 45 minutes from Ft. Leavenworth, and after 15 years, I got to see my super-stud classmate Anne who helped me with a training plan for my half iron triathlon last summer. Her husband was running the half, so it worked out perfectly to have a pre-race dinner / reunion that afternoon. (For the record: she has two of the world's best behaved kids in the history of the universe ever. Seriously. They were so good while the grown ups sat and talked for two hours.)

Race morning: I was mentally ready for wind, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what to wear for the temperature. Base layer plus long sleeves? Base layer plus jacket? Just long sleeves? Tights were a non-decision, despite Sarah's crazy shorts. I mean, it was 37 degrees outside. She crazy. I opted for base layer and jacket, which meant race belt instead of pins for my number.

My official marathon race-day socks

We all got in the car, drove the five minutes to Garmin and parked 100 feet from the start line (did I mention that I love small races?!). I got out of the car and promptly decided I was overdressed. Good thing I brought three other clothing options in case I changed my mind. Jacket off, long sleeve on, race belt off, safety pins on. Ready to go.

Let's go, Twinkle Toes!

Sarah and me. Note the shorts. Cuh-razy.

Me and Becca. Finally - a race where I'm not wearing a blue shirt!!

After the events of last Monday in Boston, the feeling among the runners was different than any race I'd run before. Many of us pinned the extra sentiment with our number, and I saw more BAA blue and gold than I've ever seen at a race before. It was a lovely symbol of the running community, and how we're all interwoven. I don't have to know you - to know you're a runner is to know you're my friend.

So that's an awful lot of prelude to the race itself, which was terrific. Let me once again extol the virtues of a small race. I got out of my car about ten minutes before gun time, stepped almost to the front of the runners with the 3:30 pace group, and had no trouble finding room in the starting line crowd. Plenty of full and half marathoners, many in Oz costume which made it that much more fun!

There was a moment of silence to honor the victims in Boston, the singing of the national anthem, and we were off. True story, off I went: faster than my hoped-for average pace as is typically my strategy, but good grief - until close to mile 2, I didn't pay attention to exactly how too-fast I was running. I felt good, though, the weather was PERFECT, and I decided just to see how long the feeling would last. When I heard a spectator somewhere between miles 5 and 6 say, "there's the second female runner" as I sped by, that was a thrill of a lifetime. I knew it probably wasn't sustainable, but I was at a sub-8:00 pace and feeling terrific.

I failed to remember that the first many miles are net downhill. Doh.

So then the hills began. For those of you who think Kansas = flat, let me help you. Western Kansas is just that. Eastern Kansas, where we were, is on the bluffs of the river and rivals northwest Arkansas for rolling elevation changes. I felt okay through the half marathon point, but between the excessively fast pace and the lack of hill training the last six weeks, I knew the back half could get ugly.

Right again.

I managed to hold it together until about 16, but as more and more people passed me, and my pace dropped off as my calves and hamstrings tightened, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on to a 3:30 dream. Just as well; even my computer password at work has reminded me for the last two months that I was running this race for the bling. The last several miles of the marathon wound along the running trail in Olathe, which was exactly like the running trail at home. That was mentally a huge help, because at this point I was walking through the water stations and trying not to shuffle across the wee little uphills on the trail's bridges.

Another lesson learned at Oz: having friends running the half while you're running the full means a guaranteed finish line cheering section. Sarah and Becca were right there cheering me on as I came to the finish line, and I managed to finish in 3:44:42.

I think you had to be there...

I kind of have to pinch myself - three sub-4:00 marathons in four months. A year ago, I barely broke five hours. What a year it's been.

With some fellow Maniacs - running for fun!

She's a maniac, maniaaaaac...

I had to get a little help at the finish line to return my chip; while I was sitting I chatted with a young lady who had just finished her first marathon. In 3:29. Wowzers. I asked her old she was and she said 29 - to which I immediately responded that I was pretty sure she had just run a Boston qualifying time. The look on her face was exactly why I run - super excited for her.

Can I get - some help - with my chip - please!

Lots of fun at the finish line - the small "expo" was forgotten thanks to the excellent food, drinks, and massage tent at the finish line. I got my finisher's shirt; a free massage; two bowls of incredible mac & cheese; a grilled chicken sandwich; and a Belgian White celebratory beer. My space blanket finally wasn't enough to keep me warm, so we headed back to the hotel to get cleaned up and shower.

Girls' weekend continued with Heather picking us all up - no more directional challenges behind the wheel! - and we headed out for dinner. Our plan to go to Jack Stacks on the Plaza was foiled by excessive traffic in the highway, so we did what any self-respecting post-race celebrators would do. We opted for Five Guys cheeseburgers and fries!!!

If you're going to go all in, running marathons and eating cheeseburgers, then you really should go ALL IN - so we headed to Cheesecake Factory after dinner. (This dessert will be filed under "Why I Run.")


Party animals though we may be, that was about all we could handle. I think we all slept like the dead that night. Got up Sunday morning to load up the car, and whaddya know, the Kansas wind was back. Looks like my streak of crazy-windy races is over; after wind and rain in Houston, and a persistent headwind in Mississippi, I got a break in - of all places - Kansas. There's no place like home, there's no place like home...

All in all, an excellent weekend. Great times with Sarah, Becca, Anne and Heather, and so much fun running another 26.2. This was marathon #6 and state #6, but the last one until the Fall unless something totally unexpected happens. I'm glad I ran this one for the bling - because, as bling goes, this one is pretty sweet.

What motivates you?

I run for lots of reasons: fitness, socializing, competitiveness, me-time, to prove I can.

I also run for the bling:

Justin and I made some medal hangers for my growing collection, and I'm pretty excited with how they turned out. I'm not the most creative person in the world, but I hope to earn a few more triathlon medals for this one:

Wonder how long until I need another one? Once I do, any ideas for a witty title for it?