Oh Everest, My Everest

Clock Time: 1:10:03
Chip Time: 1:09:03
Average Pace: 11:10 min/mi

Yesterday was the inaugural Butler Relay, the first in the 2008 MCM event series. I signed up because the MCM folks decided to offer entrants a coveted (non-comp) entry for the Marine Corps Historic Half (which filled up in 13 days). Since I ran the Quantico Half Marathon last September, which turned out to be the last ever Quantico Half Marathon to be hosted on MCB Quantico, I want to be a part of the first ever MCHH in Fredericksburg, which is what happened when MCCS handed the event over to the MCM people.

Now for the race report!

Having been sick for the last two weeks and still sporting a lingering cough, I didn't expect much. I purposely left the Garmin at home so that I could temporarily forget that I hate running. I just wanted to run as fast as I could without throwing up or having to walk. That seemed like a reasonable goal for a 10K (any longer and I may have had the nix the not walking part). But everything always changes once you get there and have a gander at the other people running the race.

At 0730 on a chilly morning outside the gym of a Marine Corps base, the first thing I see is that there are very few people there. In fact, it's almost like a club run, only this club looks way out of my league. It's a club full of active duty Marines and hard core non-Marine runners (as evidenced by their lean, gazelle-like builds). There are also a number of young people there, clearly the offspring of Marines and gazelles starting out their running excellence early in life. All of this is bad news for me because it reduces the number of slow people to keep me company in the back.

At the sound of the gun, I make myself focus on one thing: don't lose the pack. I start to think maybe I might be able to step it out and use their momentum to propel me forward. It's only six miles, right? I can handle feeling like I'm going to puke for six miles. Hell, maybe I even just puke and then keep running until it's over! I can do this. I can do it. Just don't lose the pack.

Within a minute, the pack decides to lose me. Don't lose the pack becomes don't turn around. If I turn around, I'll just see that there's nobody behind me and I'll panic. So, I don't. I don't turn around while I'm trying to stay with what's left of the pack. I struggle to keep up with the women in front of me and look around for the one who seems to be running the steadiest pace, finally settling on the one wearing headphones. She won't mind if I use her to pace me since she's listening to music anyway! Perfect. Wonderful.

I hover about 10 feet behind her for the first couple of miles, cursing myself for picking somebody who is going just a little bit too fast for comfort (and I use the term 'comfort' loosely). As we approach the first water station shortly after mile 2, I think hard about how badly I need that water. I don't need it too bad, but I'd sure love some if my pacer is going to stop... maybe she'll stop for water? That would be heaven. Please lady? Please can you stop for water?

Not a chance. Onward we go. Soon we are going past Butler stadium for the third time, this time making our way up the hill behind it toward the trail. She is not slowing down. The growing slope is making me want to slow down. I don't slow down. My heart is trying to escape the prison that is my ribcage. My head becomes a sweaty tomato with a ponytail. Finally, the top!

Thank go-ooooh no. That's the trail right there. The trail with hills and sharp, slippery rocks that are the bane of all people with a history of ankle injuries. (!) Okay. Okay, I can do this. Just don't look back and stay with her. Let's DO this. I keep my eyes glued to the ground in front of me and expend a lot of energy trying not to roll an ankle. Somehow, she is able to do this a lot more quickly than I am. Why am I slowing down? Keeping my ankles the way they are should not slow me down! Quick, light steps. Take more quick, light steps, Krischelle! Excellent, I'm catching up again.

Careening down a small hill, I pick up some speed to go charging up the next one up ahead, slightly steeper and more imposing. Suddenly, something is wrong. I'm not chasing a moving object anymore. The moving object has stopped short in gully between hills and is sucking wind. Shit. NOW who's going to pace me? Should I stop too? But I feel good! I should keep running! She turns so I can see her face for the first time, her sweaty tomato head rivaling mine, and she gives me a little nod and continues to swallow air. What just happened? I'm running up a hill now, working hard but not dying, and what just happened?

'Just keep running, idiot.' The voice in my head makes sense. I keep running. An old lady (by no means frail) flies past me and I try to keep up with her but this proves to be hopeless. I keep running and focus on trying not to walk. The rest of the trail is uphill and this undoubtedly sucks, so walking will pretty much mean the end of my race, but I'm only a little past halfway!

I pass the mile 4 marker. Woo! Here I come, Butler Stadium. I'm on my way. 2/3 down, 1/3 to go. I hear uncharacteristically fast footsteps coming from behind me. It's the leader of the second wave. Thank goodness I made it 2/3 of the way before he caught me. He gives me an "oo-rah" as he passes and this galvanizes my resolve. The hill just gets bigger and bigger but I'm going to kill my way to the top. Two or three more second-wavers pass me. One of them is a teenage boy. I feel old and slow. Now I'm on the trail again. How does this road keep going uphill?

As I start to lose my resolve (for the 100th time?) another Marine runs past me just as we reach the peak of the hill. He actually slows to look back at me and says, "You're doing great. Don't give up now!" Good idea! I keep pushing to keep up the pace and start the final downhill. Did I mention I'm really bad at running downhill? I start to feel strange pains in my shins. Like maybe if I keep doing this, I'm going to get shin splints. But maybe if I brake too hard with my legs, my knees will hate me. What to do? I decide it's best to focus on not eating asphalt since that will be disastrous on a hill like this, so I concentrate on keeping my ankles aligned and my steps quick. This seems to work.

Soon, we are looping around Butler Stadium to do the last lap around the delicious new rubberized track where there is a finish line and also some bananas to eat. Sweet!

Why is this taking so long? Why?! I can't believe I'm not there yet. Why am I not there yet? UGH. My shins feel like jelly and fast people are all sprinting past me. I can't sprint like that, this far away! I practically AM sprinting! Oh my goodness WHY.

Ugh, finally on the track. Now to sprint! I can totally pass these three ladies in front of me. Go, go gadget legs.

...Hello? Legs? Faster please? Okay, okay. I can pass this one lady in front of me. Eventually. Maybe I'll pass her right at the finish line. Jelly legs just need to stay rigid long enough for me to get there. Stay strong, jelly legs. We're going to do this. Push, push, push.

I pass her in the last few yards before the finish line and everything becomes a blur of blood rushing through my head. There is only the sound of whooshing in my ears. A man is pointing at something small and black in his hand. He wants me to what? Oh, I have to bend down now and take the chip off of my shoe. WHOA, dizzy. Here you go, mister. Time for a banana.

Sweet.

Labels: 10K, MCM series, race, red gatorade, rocky trail

This is me trying to blog with a microwavable calzone from Trader Joe's in one hand. Midterms are hitting me hard this week. The LA marathon exacted a high toll last week, leaving me wondering if I had a stress fracture in my hip. Turns out it was just a nasty case of bursitis... which I didn't figure out until Thursday afternoon when I could walk again (with a limp) for more than 10 seconds at a time. The next few days spent cooped up in my apartment studying and doing homework finally allowed the limp to go away too. Just in time for me to sprint across campus today and be 10 minutes late for my first midterm!

I'm not even sure what is going on with my sleep schedule either. All I know is that I'm not getting enough of it, and the little I do get is not happening at the right times. I'm reminded of a time in college when a friend told me about the uberman sleep schedule wherein one takes short naps at regular intervals instead of sleeping straight through the night. Somehow, this schedule reminds me of eating several small meals throughout the day routine (as opposed to the traditional 3 large meals), but I know it's not as healthy. It's really just a way to get through exam time. It completely robs me of the ability to do any exercise and I can go 12-24 hours without eating and not even notice--as long as I keep pumping sugar into my system semi-regularly so that my brain can function and then binge on carbs at least once a day. Cherry cider, ice cream and that big pot of spaghetti I made two days ago have been my steady companions.

Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm going on about this, but my calzone is almost gone now and it will be time to hit the books again soon. This is all to say that I really wish I could just sleep through one (delicious, savory, wonderfully long) night and go for a run when I wake up, but... well, fat chance that will happen anytime this week.

Labels: exams, irregular sleep schedule, LA marathon, uberman sleep schedule

Clock Time: 6:31:18
Chip Time: 6:28:08
Average Pace: 14:48.5
Split10K: 1:19:05
Half: 2:50:05
Split30K: 4:19:36

Labels: GU, hips, LA marathon, salt peanuts, swollen hands