This post is completely self-indulgent in its length. I contemplated cutting it down, but ultimately I wanted all of this detail for me – to remember the amazing weekend with my friends, to remember the elation of the race, and to remember how hard it was in the end, but that I made it. I’m still enjoying the ability to PR race after race – that happens when you start out slowly and have lots of room for improvement – and eventually that won’t happen anymore without really hard work. I know I’ll need to remember how much it hurts, and how amazing it is when it happens. So if you want to read, enjoy. Or just enjoy this picture that sums up my thoughts on the weekend:
Well, it’s been awhile. Guess that whole checking in regularly for accountability thing didn’t get me blogging more regularly. Oh well! In the last month, the running happened (well, most of it), and some of it was truly awful, pathetic, oh my goodness my goals have gone out the window running. But some of it was good. And then came Country Music (Half) Marathon Weekend. And it was good, and bad, and freezing, and wonderful. So here’s the story of the Great Flood of Nashville 2013 (actually, that’s a horrible joke if you lived through the flood here in 2010. Sorry Nashville peeps – I’d do a cold wet 13.1 again as many times as necessary to not have any of that disaster happen ever again, or ever period.), aka Country Music Marathon 2013, aka weekend of freezing awesome.
A little back story first – ever since we moved here in 2008, we’ve had a crew come down for the marathon weekend. The crowd has been different every year, but it’s always a mix of friends and siblings who we are ecstatic to have in town whether it involves 13.1 miles or not.
2010 (I think – maybe 2011?) – My sister-in-law, her boyfriend (now fiancé!), his brother, and his girlfriend (maybe fiancé at the time? Can’t remember, they’re married now.) Come back, y’all!
I ran the half the first year we lived here, and it was, well, not an experience that inspired me to keep running. I had great intentions of training well, and got off to a good start, but the combination of starting a new, travel-heavy job, and not having any freaking clue what I was doing was ultimately disastrous. I think my longest run before the race was 8 miles, and the temps were 90+ by about noon that day. Short version: I knew I was in trouble at about mile 2 (where the hills start), the first walk break happened around mile 7 (when I told my sister and my friend who were running with me to go ahead), and I limped in at 2:26 or so. Not that that is in ANY way not a respectable time. I was seriously proud of myself, but felt HORRIBLE and really didn’t run again for about 3 years. I never want to feel like that at the end of a race again.
However, I continued to look forward to the weekend every year, and this guy’s continued participation (and his now fiancé!), along with a need to get active again sparked the running revolution you’ve read about before if you’ve been with me the last couple of months.
Cementing their engagement with Karaoke
He gets major props for coming every year – this was #5 and I feel like we should create some sort of award at this point 🙂 He just can’t resist a little 13.1 mile jaunt followed by honkey tonks, beer, and a brief respite from the concrete jungle of NYC.
This year’s crew included Pat and Jess, as well as two new visitors – Peter, another of Tom’s fraternity brothers, and his girlfriend Natalia. We’ve been excited to have them come visit, and even more thrilled they could make it for this awesome weekend. They’re a blast, and fast runners too!
Leading into the weekend, I stalked the weather as usual (who can ever resist this? I insist the meteorologist doesn’t know what he/she is talking about, yet I can’t stop!). It looked horrible. 70% chance of rain with a high of 60. I hadn’t fully decided on goals and strategy at that point, but many of the people I’d trained with were shooting to break 2 hours and a leader of the FF training team was pacing them, so I decided I’d likely at least start with that crew. Given the weather and a good training base but lack of long runs (no double digits since Tom King on March 9th), I wasn’t expecting anything ground-breaking, and knew that a 2 hour goal was still challenging but realistic. This one was for fun, and I had zero PR expectations as the course is much more difficult (super hilly) than the course I PR’ed on in March. If I felt good after a few miles I’d pull ahead, but I’d enjoy the camaraderie at the beginning.
Everyone eventually arrived Friday night – poor Pat and Jess were several hours delayed, after having come back in town from London (and getting engaged!) only days before, so it was off to bed pretty much immediately once they got in, with prayers that the showers that had started would pass through by the morning. No such luck. We woke up to 50 degrees and showers just as Mr. Weatherman predicted. There was much debate over attire, garbage bags to cover up with at the start, and where Tom would pick us up after the race (I informed him that he absolutely did NOT have to cheer, it was far too miserable for that and honestly I preferred he be ready and waiting with lots of towels and a change of clothes in the most convenient spot he could park!)
We eventually got out the door to head to the starting line, where Pat and Jess needed to pick up packets since they got in too late the night before. After a bit of a snafu (Pat’s registration apparently never went through! Fortunately he had a credit card with him and was able to register at the start. Major props to the race crew for making that possible, and making it easy) we headed to our respective corrals. I was assigned to 6 but realized it was probably too late to find my 2 hour Fleet Feet peeps, so decided instead to head to corral 3 with Peter and Natalia. Though I knew they were faster than me, Peter was planning to start out around an 8:30 pace, which was roughly what I had hoped to average, so didn’t feel too bad being up amongst slightly faster people – I didn’t think I would be forcing anyone to bob and weave if I stuck with him at the beginning!
We got in place just in time for Sweet Caroline to honor Boston. I never wrote about it here, as I couldn’t manage to put the words together, but like so many in the amazing running community, the tragedy completely rocked my world. When Natalia offered to make Boston shirts for us to wear, I jumped on the chance, and was proud to be running with all of those affected on my mind
Showing Natalia her handiwork since she had them sent here!
Despite the steady rain (which wouldn’t stop for the whole. entire. race.) the atmosphere was as festive as it always is at this race. I’m not sure if all Rock ‘n Roll races are the same, and I know many people hate how crowded they are, but in Music City it just seems so right. Maybe it’s that it was my first race, but even though I’ve learned how great smaller races can be, I will always love this one.
Anyway, the gun went off shortly after Sweet Caroline and we were off pretty quickly. It was quite a different experience being up toward the front. Instead of the 30 minutes of waiting that came along with being in corral 14 last year, we had just a few minutes before starting. In the rain, this was very much appreciated. However, the excitement of the start was no different – even without Peter’s warnings to Natalia that we were starting out too fast, I knew it, but had a hard time slowing down. The first mile is mostly downhill, and I was pumped to be moving. Natalia pulled ahead pretty quickly (the girl is FAST) but Peter stayed with me. I felt a little bad since I knew he could (and would) ultimately smoke me, but I could already tell the pace was a little faster than I’d planned, and I knew the only way I could hold it through the first few miles, which are consistently uphill, was to have Peter entertaining me through them – he’s one of the friendliest, goofiest guys I know, and I love him for it. And needed him through those first several miles.
Love hills? Come to CMM
I told Peter a few times to not hesitate to go ahead whenever he felt like it, but he stuck with me for the first five miles, checking in every once in a while to make sure I was ok, subtly pushing me to keep it up but understanding when I slowed down a bit. Highlights: Peter high fiving the awesome spectators who were actually out in the rain and declaring “look at you crazy party animals, you look like you just stayed out here after your awesome night lights night,” apologizing to me for chatting away (I quickly let him know that he could chat all he wanted – it helped, and typically I’d be equally chatty but this pace was not allowing for chatter) and gathering chuckles from everyone around us because he’s just so dang fun to have around. At the same time, he talked me up hills, noted what some other runners were saying about how the road pitched to one side in the next mile unexpectedly and prepared me for it, and generally did all of the intelligent race stuff needed amongst his silliness. Side note: Peter, want to run the whole Chicago marathon with me in October? K thanks, much appreciated.
Miles 1-5: 7:48, 8:02, 8:26, 8:31, 8:26
Somewhere during mile 4 Peter disappeared shortly and though I couldn’t figure out how, I just figured he’d pulled ahead, so started preparing myself for the next 8+ miles alone. I knew it would be hard to keep up the pace, but I was grateful for Peter getting me through those first few miles, and knew that I was off to a great start that probably wouldn’t have happened without him. Between the rain and my lack of long runs leading up to the race I probably would have let myself off the running fast (for me) hook early on. Instead, he pushed me to run a pace I was capable of but hadn’t let myself believe in before. A couple of minutes later Peter popped back up beside me. Turns out he stopped to go to the bathroom and then caught back up. Shortly after, my watched beeped at 5 miles. At 8:26, he commented that we had slowed down a bit, but I knew this was the pace I needed to lock in on. I once again encouraged him to go ahead, that I was locked in and ready to keep going just like this, and this time he did – he knew I was over the first hump, and he was nice and warm and ready to move (to an eventual 1:38:XX finish – do that math. The kid is fast and was VERY kind to run those first few miles with me at my pace.)
I settled in for what I knew wouldn’t be an easy 8 miles maintaining that pace, but I was feeling a lot better than I expected, and was shocked to realize I wasn’t too cold, that the rain was annoying but my hat was keeping it out of my eyes, and I just might do better than I thought. I took my first huma gel (LOVE these things – try them if you haven’t already. They’re supposedly great for those who struggle with stomach trouble (luckily I don’t), and they actually taste really good) and felt a bit of a pep in my step as I continued to climb the hills that roll upward through mile 7.5 or so. The details are hazy – though I do remember guys offering full cans of beer in front of one of my favorite bars at mile 7 – not sure how that could ever taste good with 6 miles to go – but mostly I remember relief once I was headed more downhill, intermittent pep talks with myself to confirm I was feeling ok, and disappointment that the praise band in front of the church at mile 9 wasn’t there because of the rain. (For some reason that band and its energy has always been a boost at that point in the race and I was bummed they weren’t out – I’m sure this could spark some sort of religious symbolism or whatever, but the truth is they’re just playing peppy music and having fun and that’s all I ever need at mile 9).
Miles 6-10: 8:04, 8:12, 8:36, 7:56, 8:00
I managed to not look at my watch except when it beeped each mile, and continued to confirm that I was holding a decent pace, but didn’t try for too much race math beyond that. Until mile 9, that is. I had just hit a flat stretch, just taken another gel (thankful that I had my huma instead of the orange GU they were handing out – blech), and looked down as my watch beeped to see something that started with a 7. WHAT? I don’t run miles that start with a 7 in half marathons. I barely did in my last 10K. And yes I’m tired, but I’m ok. Wait, hold up, what’s my total time? I forced myself to ignore the rain that was getting harder and do a little mental math. If I held just below a 10 minute pace I could come in under 1:50. Holy cow. That’s doable all of a sudden.
Unfortunately things did get a bit harder not long after that realization, but I’m glad I made it when I did, as it gave me a very tangible goal that I could mentally hang on to through some rough patches. There were some flats for the next two miles, but then we started to head back into the heart of downtown Nashville, and the last evil hills hit again. As you pass mile 12, there’s a quick hairpin turn, and then a few hills and back and forths through downtown. There are approximately 3 times that I think we’re headed into the homestretch and we end up turning away and doubling back. I started making deals with myself that I could walk for a bit at the next stoplight. The first time I convinced myself to make it to the next stoplight after that, but the next time I needed to stop as I felt like I was practically walking anyway. I walked for about 45 seconds then picked it up again, just in time to realize we were turning away from Titans Stadium and the finish line AGAIN. At this point the curse of tall downtown buildings made my Garmin jump to 12.94 miles, and I’m pretty sure we were only at about 12.3. EVIL. But it allowed me to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. I saw the next turn and could tell it was a left turn down one block, and then we were headed back toward the finish line. I allowed myself to walk that one cross block, and right as I was nearing the turn (when hopefully I would’ve picked it back up, but who knows. My legs were SO heavy at that point), I felt a slap on my back and some encouraging words “girl, I’ve been watching you, you’ve got this, pick it up, we’re almost there.” I have no idea who this kind man was, and perhaps could have thought the “I’ve been watching you” to be creepy, but he was right, for some reason it wasn’t (I men, we all watch other people during races, so not that weird ….), and it did the trick. I picked it up, and picked it up quickly. I could see the bridge crossing the river shortly ahead, and I knew once we made it there it was literally downhill to the finish. With a glance at my overall time I knew 1:50:XX as still in the cards.
Mile 11-12: 8:07, 8:14. Who knows after that as Garmin says mile 13 was 3:45
I somehow remembered to unzip my (questionably chosen, but it was fine in the end) rain jacket as I ran toward the finish line so that the picture would include Natalia’s awesome Boston Strong shirt, and finally crossed it, hands up in victory. As I glanced down at my watch to read 1:48-something, I heard my name shouted and looked up with my mouth literally wide open in amazement. Peter and Natalia had waited for me, and I had just run much faster than I could’ve guessed I would, in the nastiest race weather I’ve ever experienced. I was truly shocked, really proud of my mental game, and proud of my friends who had obviously run an amazing race (and really thankful and amazed they had waited in the cold rain for me – once I stopped running I was FREEZING so their waiting that 10 minutes for me was truly generous! Peter said he was confident I would finish strong so they decided to wait, and I can’t thank him enough for that confidence!).
Final Official Time: 1:48:12. 30 minutes faster than my finish a year ago!
Good friends wait for you in the freezing rain!
After grabbing finish line snacks and mylar blankets (this race certainly does the finish line well in my opinion – easy to get everything you need while everybody keeps moving without too much crowding), we slowly made our way around Titans stadium and back up and over the pedestrian bridge. Major bonus of someone dropping you off at the start: you get close and don’t have to deal with the shuttle. Major bummer of the same deal: they can’t park at the stadium so you have to walk all the way over the (steep) pedestrian bridge. This is fine if it’s nice weather and you hang out for a while and recover. When it’s freezing and rainy? Not the best. However, what was amazing was our plan to meet at the hotel right across from the bridge, and Tom timed the pickup perfectly. AMAZING race support 🙂
The rest of the day and weekend were spent hanging out with all of these dear friends and putting together one of my favorite Nashville weekends to date. From a spirited game of Apples to Apples (shockingly, the girl with Literal in her blog title is not the best at this game) and beer samplers at a local brewery, to an unplanned dance party with the staff at a favorite restaurant as they celebrated a record week, to late night karaoke, it was perfect. Country Music Marathon weekend continues to live up to the hype from beginning to end, and it’s a special one so I couldn’t resist so much detail.
Now, time to enjoy getting used to the summer heat (right), slow it down, and stretch the distance out further. There will be a few races in the meantime, but next big stop is 26.2!
Literal B 