Like a Broken Record

Saturday morning, May 14th. Race Day. The UAE Healthy Kidney 10k, race number 4 of the 9 I need to finish to gain guaranteed entry to the 2012 ING New York City Marathon.

There is a New York Road Runners race nearly every weekend, most of which take place in Central Park, but the buzz around this race was different. In an effort to increase the profile of the city as a runner's mecca, the Road Runners organization extended invitations to the world's fastest 10k runners, luring them to the city with a prize purse totaling $45,000, $25,000 for winning the race and an additional $20,000 if the winner broke the course record of 27:42.

While my ambitions don't include breaking course records, I did wake up that morning with the intention of shattering my 10k personal record. I woke up before the alarm, excited to launch into my pre-race routine, get to the park, and get running. However, the clock said 4:00 so I decided to stay in bed and try to rest up for a couple more hours. When 6:00 finally rolled around I hopped out of bed, popped my bagel in the toaster and began the routine that has rapidly become tradition. Braid hair, wash face, apply sunscreen, brush teeth, clip toenails, stretch out, put on race clothes, double knot shoes, pack post-race supplies, head out the door.

I was confident I had controlled every variable that I could to ensure a great race. I was fueled, rested, energized, my injured hip was recovered and my mileage base and cross training were nearing their former levels. In addition to my standard race prep, I had studied the locations of the bathrooms along the course so I knew exactly when and where I would be stopping so as to not have to walk half a mile of the race with a full bladder. Surely a new personal record was guaranteed, there was no way it was going to take me longer than 50:49 to finish this race.

When I got to the park I lined up in my designated corral along with the 8,000 other people eagerly awaiting the start of the hilly clockwise trek around Central Park that constituted the day's 10k course. From the front of the pack, this is what the race looked like. Three of the recruited Kenyans who were favored to win ran together for the first two miles of the race before Leonard Patrick Komon pulled ahead, covering the first 5k in 13:26. He crossed the finish line at 27:35 to break the record and win the purse. I understand it was an inspiring sight.

While Komon was breaking records, I was just south of 107th Street coming to about the halfway point of the race. My splits for the first three miles were as follows: Mile 1 - 9:01, Mile 2 - 8:08, Mile 3 - 9:01. My goal heading into the park was to run an average pace faster than 8:11 per mile. Halfway in I was not pacing to accomplish that goal.

I don't know if it was the stress of the week leading into the race, the disgusting strawberry energy gel I tried out that morning, the two week hiatus I took from training in mid-April or the new armband that was housing my iPod but something about that race was off. Given the energy I had heading into the park I didn't expect the challenges of that route on that day and somewhere after the Harlem hill a voice in my head started bombarding me with all the things I'd done wrong in preparing for this race. My broken record that day had nothing to do with the time I ran, mine was the list of things I could have done differently that repeated over and over in my head like a Milli Vanilli concert track.

I ended up finishing with a time of 53:31 and a pace of 8:37 per mile. My worst race pace to date.

But, I need to be okay with that. Race #4 is over, there's no second chance to run it, it's just done. There are multiple factors that could have effected my pace, I can't possibly control all the variables, I just need to go into Race #5 with a goal and try to accomplish it. Before June 11th the only thing that I can do to better my chances of beating my personal record is to wake up each morning for the next two and a half weeks and train. Just try to do better than the day before and keep building from the base I've established.

This isn't going to be a journey with predictable improvement at every event, the game is going to change each time and I need to be just as prepared for that as I am for the elements of racing that are within my control.

So, while I fully intend to wake up on June 11th, eat my bagel, braid my hair, and pack my post-race banana and chocolate milk in Sid's backpack, I know that on that morning all I can do is run the best race that I have in me. I'll either end that day with a new personal record to beat or a more clear idea of what I need to do to improve before June 25th's Race #6.

Either way, I'll be one step closer to qualifying for the marathon.

"What distinguishes those of us at the starting line from those of us on the couch is that we learn through running to take what the day gives us, what our body will allow us, and what our will can tolerate." -John "The Penguin" Bingham, Runner and Writer

"I'm No Quitter"

Within the mess of photos, grocery lists and other souvenirs of daily life on my refrigerator clings a small square magnet. Pictured on it is a woman, perfectly coiffed, delicately holding a lit cigarette between her immaculately manicured red fingernails. The caption reads, "I'm no quitter."

This magnet has adorned refrigerators in Madison, Minneapolis and Manhattan after having been bestowed on me by my charming baby brother my senior year in college. There was a time when I would reference the magnet in arguments with my mother about my need to stop smoking. After all, if the beautiful, well-groomed woman on the magnet with the sassy 1940's hat could continue to proudly smoke, so could I.

My first post included all of the reasons it was irrational for me to train for a marathon, with my smoking listed as one of my primary obstacles. For the sake of full disclosure I feel I must clarify, I quit smoking two weeks before writing that blog post. To be perfectly frank, I included it in the initial blog because all evidence would have suggested that I would be unsuccessful in my efforts to quit.

I am proud to report that I have not had a cigarette since January 23, 2011. Today is my 100th day without smoking and the longest I've gone without a cigarette since I began smoking at age 15.

It's my understanding that it's customary for those who have quit smoking to impart their newfound expertise on the subject in a condescending fashion on all the filthy smokers we encounter. I don't have time for that so I'm just going to write what worked for me on here and then continue in my pattern of loudly, harshly and hypocritically voicing my disgust for smokers I pass in the street.

1) I wrote down all the rational reasons I had for quitting. (Eg. Cost of cigarettes, Time spent smoking, Health risks, Family reasoning, etc.) I quantified the most rational of reasons. (Smoking in NYC for 100 days costs approximately $600, Smoking half a pack per day means 12 hours per week are spent smoking, etc.) I then wrote all of the reasons I had to quit out by hand and posted them on the back of the door to my apartment. For me it was very important to have more than just the generic "Smoking Will Kill You" reasoning. Apparently the $1,200 I spend annually on this habit is more of a rational deterrent than the prospect of death.

It was also important to me that this be written in my own handwriting. It had to be a personal note. To: Me, From: Me. It couldn't be someone else telling me why I had to quit.

2) I created a rewards system for myself with goal dates to reach to receive the rewards. At first these were things like massages and haircuts, but then I realized that those things didn't really matter to me. So, I shifted my rewards to shoes. I was going to buy myself a pair of red heels, a pair of snakeskin heels and a pair of Kelly Green Converse All Stars.

Fast forward to May and I'm almost out of student loans, so those rewards will have to wait until I have gainful employment. I was complaining about the rigidity of my financial situation to my friend Dana and mentioned how it was unfortunate I wouldn't be able to reward myself adequately for my progress and she commented (in the very nonchalant way that only Dana can), "Isn't the fact that you're quitting smoking your reward to yourself?" Leave it to Dana to cut through all the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter. Since I had to stop with the reward system for the time being, the boyfriend has picked it up and has decided to reward me with a series of IOU's for awesome dates in and around New York City. Each date comes in the mail described on the back of a postcard specific to the location where the date will take place. He's an excellent boyfriend.

3) I kept a pack of cigarettes with me at all times. In fact, it's still in my bedside table. It has notes taped to the sides of the box and photos taped to the front and back of the box. On the back, my boyfriend Sid, who will apparently be "really pissed" if he eventually finds himself holding my hand while I'm hooked to a respirator (those are his words, not mine). That conversation was the first time I really realized that my smoking wasn't just about me, it's about everyone in my life who cares about me having to eventually watch me suffering all the consequences of years of self-destructive behavior. On the front, my mom. I have no idea what the bond between mother and child feels like, and I hear I won't until I have my own children, but I hear it's unpleasant to watch them habitually engage in behaviors with such long-term adverse effects. I then sealed the pack of cigarettes (because it was half smoked) with packaging tape so that getting one out wouldn't be as easy as just opening the box and would give me some time to think about whether or not I really wanted one before tearing into the pack.

I kept the half full pack with me at all times because it was important to me that I be controlling the addiction, not allowing the addiction to control me. I chose the date that I was quitting, it was not determined by when my last pack ran out. I wasn't not smoking because I didn't have cigarettes, I was not smoking because I was choosing not to.

4) I had a plan. A strategic plan, of course, for how to deal with the onset of any cravings. I also wrote this out in my own handwriting, laminated it (because who doesn't love to laminate?), and kept it in the little pouch in my bag that housed my doctored pack of cigarettes. Also in this pouch, a pack of delicious fruity gum. While quitting I really branched out in the gum chewing department and found a whole new set of flavors that are not available in the treasure chest in my father's dental office. My current favorite is Strawberry Shortcake, mostly because I feel like Violet Beauregarde in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I have dessert flavored chewing gum.

So, that's what has worked for me. 100 days in I consider myself to be completely quit. I've only had one day where I was even tempted to smoke and have only dreamt about smoking once. The doctored pack will remain in my bedside table until January 23, 2012, when it will have been one year.

Today I will celebrate this milestone by visiting the Midtown Buffet (the only Chinese buffet I've ever seen with dumplings included in the spread) and by tasting my first ever slice of blueberry pie!

But first, a seven mile run.

"It's easy to quit smoking. I've done it hundreds of times." -Mark Twain

Maintaining Mileage

In the last month my mileage has really tapered off. I don't know quite what it is, but it's becoming really difficult to get out of bed every morning and put in the work. Before the 15k on March 27 I was averaging about 30 miles per week. I was supplementing my training with a core strengthening video (Jillian Michaels' 6 Week 6 Pack) and I was feeling (and looking) pretty damn awesome!

In the last 4 weeks that has slipped dramatically. I've put about 10 pounds back on, I'm sluggish, my pace is suffering on my training runs, and my legs are aching in places they haven't before. During the month of April I averaged 10 miles per week. That is a disappointing decrease.

This past weekend I ran a fun run for my alumni association, The Big Apple Badgers. We were on the path in Riverside Park and it was a very informal event with about 50 people (which is almost twice the number that turned out last year, so good work Badgers!!). I was feeling weird about the race, I had a nagging pain in my right thigh all week, a tightness in my right ankle and a series of ankle exercises I'd done in class on Friday left the front of my shins tight and painful. Regardless, I lined up and lead the pack as we started through Riverside.

Stretching before the Crazylegs World 5K in Riverside Park. Photo by Lorah Haskins.

I lead by a healthy amount for most of the race. My endurance didn't last. I had to walk. Just before the halfway point the first person to pull ahead of me passed. Shortly after her there was a guy and another girl that pulled in front. At about mile 2.5 another girl passed me and for some reason I was unwilling to accept 5th place. 4th place is fine, there was no way I was going to catch the first three people to pass me, but this girl was not going to beat me. So I picked up the pace, ignored the burning in my shins and barreled through to the finish.

Prior to the race I had set a goal of averaging with a pace of less than 8 minutes per mile. Our course wasn't exactly 5k, it turned out to be about 2.98 miles. I ended up finishing in 23:50, which is a pace of 7:598657 minutes per mile. Just barely attaining my goal by clawing my way back from what had the potential to be a horrible race.

Now I have to claw my way back into the 30 miles per week range after slipping by almost 80 miles last month. I'm optimistic, I'm going to be smart about it and I'm never going to let myself have a 5k be that difficult ever again.

Lesson to be learned from the Crazylegs World 5k: Don't get cocky about your training, keep your mileage up.

"Champions do not become champions when they win the event, but in the hours, weeks, months and years they spend preparing for it. The victorious performance itself is merely the demonstration of their championship character." - T. Alan Armstrong