Race! Half-marathon at the Delaware Marathon Running Festival

All I really wanted from this race was to not feel like crud and to do better than I had done at the Caesar Rodney a month earlier. With legs that had not really trained through, and good weather, I got what I wanted.

It was in the 50s at race start, which was just about right. It was a 7:00 a.m. gun though, which I did not particularly like -- you know that getting out of bed in the morning at the crack of dawn is not my favorite thing. Portapotty lines were long, so I took a chance on the next-door Amtrak station and discovered that the indoor facilities (particularly the upstairs option) had not been widely discovered. Yay! Even so, I did not get to the starting area until about 5 minutes to the gun, and it was tightly packed so that I could not make my way very far up and was stuck toward the back with people who were definitely not going to be running under 1:40. Well, there wasn't any risk of actually winning this race so it would have to do. The throng around me ensured I didn't take off like a shot, which was a benefit of being crammed so far back -- I did mile #1 in 7:28. I settled in.

There was no wind to speak of, and the temperature was comfortable. I was comfortable. I aimed to keep my miles at least 7:20, as long as it didn't start to feel like a stretch, and it did not. I let my legs do what they wanted as long as they did not push to a point where it felt like I was reaching. Even on the uphill mile (~7), I felt pretty strong. In fact, up until around mile 8 or 9, I was feeling better and better as I went on. After 9 or so, my legs started to feel kind of robotic/wooden, but they still responded to my pace orders -- it was a race, I told them, so race. Miles 10, 11, 12, and 13 were all 7:10 or better, with mile 13 being the best: 6:56. In those last three, I made use of that long downhill and then the downhill in the last half mile or so, and told myself again that this is a race; if your legs can do it, make them do it. And so they did.

I kept an eye on who was ahead of me, and if I saw a woman wearing a "HALF" tag on her back (to distinguish us from the 26.2 runners, they made us wear bibs on our backs), I made a point of reeling her in. There was a woman in the last mile that I wasn't sure I was going to get, but going up the hill on King Street on the way toward the finish, I caught her after all, which was satisfying. I aimed at the next woman ahead of me, but I ran out of real estate before I could get her.¹ I glanced up at the race clock over the finish line as I crossed -- it was 1:36:XX.

I thought, "Well, good enough" though a teeeny bit disappointed it wasn't a liiiiittle bit faster -- and then, after stopping, I stopped my Garmin and looked down at it.

It said 1:35:05. What? OH RIGHT -- being so far back at the start, I hit the start mat a minute after the gun. So, OK, I was a liiiittle bit faster. I was pretty excited about that, even exulting "YES!" out loud.

My official time for the race is 1:35:04. It is about 30 seconds slower than my PR. It was good for 4th in my age group; I was 12th female; and 45th out of 891 half-marathon finishers. Frankly, after that 10-miler in Lewes, I needed this shot of confidence.

The only disappointing thing about the day was the fat-free chocolate milk they had at the post-race tent. Come on! Who wants that after finishing a race?! Give me at least 1%!!!



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¹After looking at the results, it seems not to matter: she does not seem to appear in the half-marathon results, as the person that is right before me (4 seconds faster) is a 42 year old man and his race photos indicate that he is not the person who I saw just ahead of me! The next faster woman than me had a gun time almost a whole minute faster than mine, so that wasn't her either. I don't recall now that she had a HALF tag on her back -- maybe she was a full marathoner who bailed, but I thought the website said if that happened they'd just convert the result. So I don't know what's up with whoever she was.

More racing?

I try to get back to Iowa sometime every spring to visit my family, usually for a long weekend. I didn't last year, because the weather was bad in March and I took time off to run Boston, then this and that. This year, not running Boston has made it easier to fit my usual spring Iowa trip in again. I've made my travel arrangements, and I'm going to Iowa City at the end of the month. I looked at the Iowa race calendar at Fitness Sports to see if there might be any 5K or 10K or something to do while I am there, and discovered the Red Shoe Run in Iowa City which includes a half-marathon on what appears not to be a USATF-certified course that winds through the west side of town. I grew up on the east side, so I am not as familiar running-wise with that side of Iowa City, but perhaps it's better on the west side than on the east side because the east side can get a little hilly. This course appears to have an up-and-down blip in the middle and a bit of an uphill in the second half, but in general it looks pretty good.

I'm interested because I've been kind of wanting to run a race back home, but I'm a little on the fence about it because with my current race registration schedule, I'd be doing road races three weekends in a row:

April 23: 10-miler in Lewes
May 1: half-marathon in Iowa City
May 8: half-marathon in Wilmington

I'm not as worried about the impact of the 10-miler, as I can use that more or less as the week's long tempo workout and an easy long run the next day should be OK. The May 8 half is meant to be a final tune-up to gauge where I am before Vermont City and would also take the place of a long tempo workout. I think I can do the same with the Iowa City half; two long tempo efforts on the schedule for that week, making this race one of them should also be OK.

Last year's top 5 times for women were:

1:34:44
1:36:06
1:37:48
1:38:22
1:40:34

Judging by that, even if I run another meh result like Caesar Rodney, I could place well (unless quicker ladies get wind of the race and sign up this year and make it more competitive, which happens). And I may not run better than meh because I don't always feel all that great running right after I get to Iowa. Something about a day of traveling, usually involving poor eating and hydration, taking some time to get some rest and adjust to the time zone and altitude (haha! But seriously, Iowa City is about 500 ft higher than here.). I will have to run and get a workout in that day anyway, might as well enjoy it on the west side of my home town. I'll think about it.

I wanted to race more this year, as I think it's a good way to get hard efforts in, get sharp, and keep tabs on where my training is getting me. Last year I only did three races (!) the whole year: Caesar Rodney before Boston, then Boston, and then Des Moines with no tune-up in the weeks before. For the later marathon, I didn't really like not having a race under my belt as a gauge. I could only use what I'd done at Boston six months earlier. Three races in three weekends might sound like a lot, but if I don't go to the well during them, it shouldn't be much different than the hard workouts that were already on the plan for those weeks. Maybe it will be a mistake, but either way it's something I will have to learn by doing.

Caesar Windy -- er, Rodney wrap-up

While trying to get past race-eve nerves and get to sleep, a thunderstorm rolled through with strong winds that threw rain and what sounded like tiny hail against the windows, and I knew that it had arrived. All night, the windows rattled and my insides churned with frustration knowing the temperature was dropping precipitously, too. The morning arrived all sunny and pleasant-appearing, and the news said it was in the 30s outside.

I tried on some shorts and went out to give it a test. In the sun, and in a sweet, brief moment of calm between gusts, it was almost OK. Then the wind exhaled with force again and, well, no. Back inside to put on tights, a long-sleeved shirt, and short-sleeves over it. The last time I had to cover up so much was for the Philly marathon in 2008. I hated it then, and I hated it Sunday morning. Any time that I have to wear tights or long pants, I automatically feel slower; but I was not going to be comfortable in shorts. I have toughness, but it has a limit. I might have been able to suffer shorts for a shorter race, but not for more than an hour and a half for a half-marathon.

As I hung around Rodney Square with B, waiting for it to be time to line up at the start, I wore a parka and another pair of pants over my tights, and the little Flyers stocking cap I use for running when it's cold enough to cover up my head.



I watched other runners mill about, dressed in pretty much the whole range of apparel: even more covered up than me down to split shorts and singlets. The wind whipped and swirled downtown, snapping flags and signs stuck to tables, and I half-thought about keeping the second pants on for the race and did not want to take off my parka. When it came time to line up, I took off the stocking cap too, only to tug it back on as the wind bit at my ears. I might get too warm wearing it, but I'd rather take it off and hold it at some midpoint of the race than get started and wish I had it. Second layer of pants came off and the tights barely helped, standing in the shade of buildings while the wind rushed around. Fortunately, the pre-race chitchat was kept to as much of a minimum as can be expected -- the anthemist didn't even drag out the song -- and a horn sent us off. (They quit using a cannon a couple/three years ago.)

I ran a little conservatively in the first 5-10K but it wasn't without help. The wind was brutal. When it was in my face, I struggled against it. When it was at the side, it tried to knock my legs together to trip me. When it was behind, it pushed such that it threw off my stride's rhythm. It would swirl around, so that one second it was pushing my face, then shoving me along. It sliced through my layers when it was in front of me, but when it was behind me, the sun was strong enough to make me feel too hot. I questioned what I was wearing only until rounding a turn and being hit with the wind again. It was difficult to pace, but I tried to maintain an effort around or under 7:30 as best I could.

7:24.5, 7:22.7, 7:29.8, 7:27.4, 7:14.4, 7:28.7
It's pretty flat for much of the first 5 miles in the riverfront area, then heading back through the city and around up to Tower Hill we get the hill experience. The wind was in my face for the three mile uphill, and while a good portion of it was somewhat protected by trees around the road, it still was a formidable opponent. As I started up this section, I saw a man in a blue shirt up ahead with a familiar gait -- a former coworker, P, who runs the Caesar Rodney pretty much every year. In 2014 I passed him around mile 11 and was pretty happy to finish ahead of him (we usually finish around the same time, but he's usually a little ahead of me). He was 20 meters or so ahead of me, and I told myself not to let him get too far away. I very slowly, but very steadily gained on him along this uphill range, finally catching him at the top as we rounded Tower Hill. I left him behind as at that point, about 4 miles remain and most of it is flat or downhill. I usually decide at this point I can start to squeeze the pace, because there isn't much left to cover if I blow up in a mile or two. I squeezed, but the wind had other ideas during some portions of this remaining 4 miles, until the last two or so which is down the hill we had hiked up earlier. Going up that hill I ended up around 8 min/mi and I let myself fly (controllably) down the hill with the wind behind me to try to make up a few seconds; unfortunately, by here, the hay is mostly in the barn. I remember glancing back on the hill to see if a blue shirt was close behind, but I didn't see it. I hung on along the flat portion of the last half mile, noting a fire being fought in a house next to the course; there is a sharp turn to head up a long and steep hill to the finish.

I fought wind and wind-driven fatigue up this hill and P caught me with about 200m to go. I pushed, but was pushed at in return, and I could not catch him. This irritates me, and I vow that next year, I will do all I can to make sure I put him away if I pass him mid-race. But good on P to catch me and leave me behind on the windy finishing hill.



I finished just under 1:40-- 1:39:45, which is acceptable only considering how hard it was to run in those conditions. It was good enough for 4th in F35-39 age group, 14th female finisher, 80th overall. There was a five minute gap between 3rd and me in the age group results. I'm guessing a lot of people chose not to run this year. Last year, I ran 1:39:36 and was 6th in the same age group, 30th female finisher, and 142nd overall.

It's hard to judge where I am in terms of fitness based on the result of this race, but I will take it at face value and look at it as having some work to do. Later this month, I plan on running a 10-miler and in a month, another half-marathon. I am going to assume that by the end of April and in the first week of May, it won't be in the 30s anymore, and I will hope and dream of a day when the wind is not gusting 20, 30, 40 mph, and I should be better able to put my fitness into perspective based on the results of those races.

Caesar Rodney 2016: a job done.

Half-marathon eve

My first race of 2016 is in 12 hours. I picked up my bib today and was surprised that it was, again, such a low number (last year I was 22). In many of the races I've run, the lower the number the higher you're seeded (and faster you're expected to run) but I can't imagine that's the case here. Until I line up tomorrow morning, maybe I will let myself fantasize that I am elite and that's why I got #15. (How I am sure bib numbers aren't any reflection on how fast they expect you to be: Philadelphia meteorologist and excellent runner Cecily Tynan is registered and is bib #11 -- she will kick my butt! There is no way I'm only 4 bib numbers slower than she is!)

It's tough to judge where I am for this race tomorrow. I ran pretty easy all week to "taper" and recuperate after a couple weeks of feeling ugh, and on my Saturday hour today my legs felt fresh and good -- so at least I am not too worried about them from that front. Where have my quality workouts gotten me to this point? is the real question. I always aim to run under 1:40 in a half-marathon (that being the upper limit of acceptable for me, as far as I'm concerned) and I think I should be able to, but -- the weather is not supposed to be very good: chilly (will it even be 40 at race time?) and super windy. I am pretty annoyed at the forecast because the whole purpose of running this race is to test my present fitness. What if I end up running 1:43 -- how will I know if that's because I'm only in 1:43 shape or maybe I am in 1:37 shape but the atrocious wind pushed me back? I may not be able to make any sense out of my time. To be honest, however, this is probably only going to really bother me if I run over 1:40. If I run anything under 1:40, I'm probably going to be satisfied enough; I just want to be able to put my finish time into proper perspective without having to make excuses/account for anything out of my control, like ridiculous wind.

This race is a week later than it usually happens, but last week was Easter so I suppose that's why it was moved. I'm annoyed because last Sunday, the weather was fine. 50s and for once, not windy.

Ok, think positive. There are still 12 hours to go. Maybe this forecast

*WINDS... WEST TO NORTHWEST 25 TO 35 MPH WITH GUSTS UP TO 60 MPH.

* TIMING... HIGHEST GUSTS AND GREATEST POTENTIAL FOR DAMAGING WINDS WILL PROBABLY BE FROM ABOUT 4 AM AND 9 AM SUNDAY.
won't actually happen. (After all, the race isn't until 9:30 a.m. Ha ha!)

(GUSTS UP TO 60 MPH. IT REALLY SAYS THAT.)