12.31.02 - Washington Resolution Run
01.19.03 - San Diego Marathon
07.13.03 - Tri For Real #2
10.23.05 - Nike Women's Half Marathon
11.23.06 - Sparks Turkey Trot
05.05.07 - Marathon de Mayo (Half)
05.13.07 - Moms on the Run
10.??.07 - Nike Women's Half Marathon
05.10.08 - Moms on the Run
06.21.09 - Pleasanton Spirit 5K
07.29.09 - San Francisco Half Marathon
10.04.09 - SJ Rock 'N Roll Half Marathon
10.18.09 - Nike Women's Half Marathon
11.01.09 - New York Marathon
11.26.09 - Spark's Turkey Trot 10K
02.20.10 - Bay Breeze Half Marathon
03.14.10 - Shamrock 'N Half Marathon
03.21.10 - LA Marathon
03.27.10 - Scheel's Fanatic 5K
04.25.10 - Marin County Half Marathon
05.02.10 - Reno Rock 'N River Half Marathon
06.05.10 - See Jane Run Half Marathon
07.25.10 - San Francisco Half Marathon
09.05.10 - Pier to Peak Half Marathon
10.10.10 - Chicago Marathon
10.30.10 - Healdsburg Half Marathon
11.07.10 - U.S. Half Marathon
11.25.10 - Scheel's Turkey Trot 10K
02.06.11 - Surf City Half Marathon
03.13.11 - Dublin Shamrock 5K
04.18.11 - Boston Marathon
05.01.11 - Big Sur Marathon
06.11.11 - Lake Tahoe Relay
07.31.11 - San Francisco Half Marathon
09.11.11 - Walnut Festival Run 5K
09.18.11 - NorCal Half Marathon
11.24.11 - Scheel's Turkey Trot
12.03.11 - Las Vegas Santa Suit 5K
12.04.11 - Las Vegas Half Marathon
03.11.12 - South Bay Duathlon
03.25.12 - Oakland Half Marathon
05.20.12 - Morgan Hill Sprint Triathlon
06.24.12 - Silicon Valley Intl. Triathlon
07.15.12 - Ironman 70.3 Vineman Triathlon
03.09.13 - Lucky 13 Half Marathon
04.28.13 - Eugene Half Marathon
05.11.13 - Folsom International Triathlon
06.23.13 - Ironman Coeur d'Alene
11.02.13 - Silver Falls Half Marathon
11.15.13 - Mt. Tam Half Marathon
11.28.13 - Scheel's Turkey Trot
5k:19:17 @ Dublin Shamrock 5k 2011
10k: 41:01 @ Scheel's Turkey Trot 2010
Half:1:30:07 @ Oakland Half 2012
Full: 3:31:44 @ Boston Marathon 2011
70.3: 5:20:07 @ Vineman 2012
140.6: 12:14:21 @ Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2013
Tag Archives: race recap
After I got injured, I knew I was going to train again and achieve my Ironman dream. However, signing up for another Ironman, let alone one that was sold out and I had to buy a foundation spot for, meant that I had to watch my budget closely and I wouldn’t be able to sign up for multiple races leading up to IMCDA. Thus, I knew I wanted to do at least one triathlon before my A race, but it had to be cheap and close.
Enter the 2nd Annual Folsom International Triathlon: 1.5K swim, 40K bike, 10k run
I registered, I told my family about it, I told my coach about it so he could work it into my schedule, and that was about all the thought that went into it. Even during the week leading up to the race, I was simply considering it as a good Saturday brick workout, i.e. I didn’t look at the course, the details, nada.
Friday night I packed my stuff, we woke up and Chicken Face drove the two hours to Folsom, where some of my favorite people in the world would be as well:
I didn’t expect my mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law and my nephew all to come! Definitely the best part of the day <3
So where were we, oh ya, this whole triathlon thing. My goal was to get re-acquainted to the race day atmosphere, open water swimming, transition practice, and try and push it if I could. But given that I had run my first 20 mile long run two days prior, by legs were heavy and tired; I was anxious to see what would happen.
The start was pretty seamless as it was a small race. Race-day check-in, no line at the port-a-potties, body marking, and transition set-up — easy shmeezy. I also wore my SOAS race kit that I bought last year and raced in it for the first time. It was AMAZING. Zero complaints here (I’ll do a full review on the kit soon!).
But then I looked out and realized that the swim start was waaaaaay out there. Apparently, the water levels were down this year and the swim start was a solid 800 meters (or it least it felt like it) down uneven dirt and rocks. What does this mean? That post-swim we would have to run up it to the bikes for T1…and there was no man-made path. I know, first world problem, but definitely not ideal.
We made our way down to the start where I got in the water, did my drills and got a mini swim warm-up in. You couldn’t see crap in the water, but I’m used to it now, and the temps were perfect. It was exactly what the doctor order.
Soon it was time for the wave beach start. My age group was fairly small, so we all chatted and then ran when the gun went off. The water was so shallow that I ended up running further than most as I’m sure my slow swim wouldn’t have been any faster than me trying to run through the water.
I dove in and just began to sight and swim. NO ANXIETY. I somehow found myself swimming solo. The fast people were far ahead of me and I was just ahead of the back pack. No one to draft off of, just me making my way around the buoys.
I simply found my swim zone and counted down the buoys as a way to break the swim up. Next thing you know, I’m at the finish, ripping off my cap, running up the dirt path and making deals with the devil as I beg to not roll my ankle on the rocks.
Swim Finish: 1.5K — 27:18 — 1:40/100 yard
Transition was quick, well, except for the fact that I put on socks (hello, blister!) and I don’t have Yankz on my shoes. The bike wasn’t difficult per se, but rather it felt like roller after roller after roller…with a big roller/baby climb near the end. It was enough to keep you on your gears and feeling the difference — my legs definitely were. No spring chickens here.
The only part I can really complain about was as we neared the finish of the bike, there was a volunteer telling us to slow down and be careful as there was a 75 ft. gravel path we had to ride on to get to the road. WTF?! I felt like I was taking my tri bike mountain biking — NOT COOL! Please find a different route as this made me come to almost a complete stop for 75 feet, not only loosing all speed but any momentum.
Bike Finish: 40K — 1:24:40 — 17.6/mph
Oh silly Page, you didn’t bring your trail shoes. But how would I have known? The site said “challenging” run, but that was it. They failed to mention that it was 6.1 miles of mostly single track trail that would go UP and DOWN, UP and DOWN, UP and DOWN, in the blazing heat.
People were dropping like flies and were either verbally huffing, puffing and cursing, or just plain walking. I did not expect this AT ALL. But perhaps I have myself to blame as I didn’t do my homework. Regardless, this course was tough, but it’s intensity was multiplied by the relentless heat. My legs were heavy and I decided that my goal would be to just stay steady. Don’t over exert as it would just burn me out.
I kept it slow, I kept it focused, I dumped water on myself at almost every aid station, and I even had to walk twice up to steep climbs and down a few so that I wouldn’t fall or hurt my ankle (I really wish they told us to bring trail shoes).
The great thing about this course is that all of the athletes were in it together, telling each other “good work,” or venting together about the heat. Occasionally there would be a view that was so gorgeous it would distract you for all of eight seconds, but then it was back to the trails and the heat.
I saw my sister, nephew and brother-in-law on the final stretch in, and she shouted, “You’re third!” I coud see Chicken Face and my parents at the finish and was so happy to be done. I was not expecting such a challenging course today.
Run: 10k — 54:12 — 8:43
My body was feeling the result of the training and such a challenging triathlon, but the good news about small races is this:
(The race site doesn’t have detailed results up yet…hoping for those soon)
Yaaaaaaay third in my age group. The woman who got first in my age group also got first overall and set a new course record (2:18:15 — damn!). I even hear one of the top female finishers say that this race was, “Like a mini Wildflower, but on actual trails.”
What I am excited about is to see the volume that my body can now handle. Never before would I have been able to run 20 miles, have a crazy intense Friday, then an international triathlon, followed by 3,000 OW yards and a 100 mile bike ride on Sunday. During Ironman training, endurance is the name of the game and I’m so grateful that my body if letting me do this.
Now on to the next week of peak training.
Last week, I wrote about the strict instructions I received from my coach to not race the Eugene Half Marathon. I heard him loud and clear. Sort of.
If you know me, I have a really hard time not pushing myself in a race atmosphere. I was cognizant of this fact as well as my coach’s very clear instructions, and made a decision to not necessarily intentionally hold back in the race, but to run however my body was feeling. I also kept in mind that my coach told me he would have “no sympathy” for me the next week if I pushed it too much. Got it, coach. No sympathy. Check.
Race day arrived. I managed to spill my entire bowl of oatmeal all over the hotel bed and floor (sorry) and ended up eating whatever cereal leftovers Nicole and Asia had (thanks guys!). Shorts, a tank, my now staple hot pink leg warmers, and a black ribbon to remember Boston. I was all set.
I was keeping calm to intentionally keep Nicole and Asia calm as they were running the full and gunning for BQs (I’ll let them share their stories and results on their blogs). What mindless chatter can I come up with to keep their minds distracted from the 26.2 miles ahead of them. The usual 2,497 bathroom stops ensued and before you knew it, it was time to get into your corrals.
The full and half marathoners started together (which I recommend the race director’s changing on behalf of the marathoners) and the corrals were set up a little strange. Being in the B corral, I somehow found my way very close to the start and felt a little out of place. After a few speeches, a moment of silence for Boston, the national anthem and the usual cheering, we were off. And so were my legs.
Let’s recap the race via splits:
The first mile is always a bit tricky as you are pumped full of adrenaline, trying not to get trampled, working to find your way in the pack and not go out too fast. As I navigated all of this, I didn’t focus too much on pace. However, when my mile alert when off and I saw “6:59″ flash before me, I let out a very audible, “SHIT.” Not shit because it was too slow, but because it was too fast. I quickly dismissed it and reminded myself to just run what felt like a fun pace.
Mile alert number two went off again and I ignored it, knowing that it was likely too fast, but my perceived exertion was just fine. I didn’t wear a heart rate monitor because I hate running in them when I don’t have to. They slip, they’re annoying and I just would rather not.
When the third alert went off, I’ll admit I was confused. BUT I FEEL FINE? I started to run the hill and figured that would be enough to slow me down and get me on track.
Now that we’ve got that hill out of the way, let’s just focus on being steady. Whatever that pace is. I didn’t surge, but rather slowed down a bit as I thought for sure I must have just gone out too strong. Slow and steady, Page. Sheesh.
Ah yes, there you go. Nice and steady. Oh look at the crowd! Hello everyone! I started just zoning out, listening to my music, and was just thinking about how fun the race was and how good I felt. Sure I had to stop and use the restroom, but didn’t make that a priority.
So I ran in the “zone” and then looked at my next alert: dammit! Back in the high 6s.
At this point, I started thinking about why I felt just fine running at this pace as I haven’t done this sort of run since the Oakland Half in 2012. Ironman training has some tempo workouts, but it mainly focuses on endurance, not speed. Was it the overcast weather? Clouds, running and I usually get along very well. Was it what felt like an all downhill course (I later checked the elevation and miles 4-7 are downhill). At that time, I wasn’t sure. But looking back, it was likely the perfect weather and downhill stretch that gave me the little boost I needed.
Miles 7-8 were another solid little climb, and I used it to shorten my stride, relax my hands, lighten my expression and just take the climb for what it was.
Whew, how about a little R&R from that climb. I was wondering when my pace was going to start significantly fading.
By this point, I realized that my early mile paces weren’t just me going out too fast, but that I could actually, and easily, sustain it. Doing a little math in my head (which always takes longer while running), I realized that if I could push these last three miles, I might have a shot at breaking my PR of 1:30:06 from the 2012 Oakland Half. I went back and forth in my head wondering if pushing it is going to screw me over and my coach would kill me. But then I made the justification that I had already ran this fast thus far and maybe I should go for it. All the stars seemed to be aligning.
And so the pushing began. Somewhere around this point I saw all the Oiselle girls (the only spectators I knew on the course), and their cheers gave me the burst of energy that I needed. I could see the finish line, but we looped out and onto the paved trails around Pre’s Trails.
Ugh, now that I was pushing it, the little rollers came and there was zero crowd support. The tiny rollers threw me for a loop and I could feel the fatigue starting to set in.
One more mile, one more mile, those little rollers at the end took it out of me. I kept looking at my watch try to do the math. I was cutting it close.
Final .1: 32 sec.
I entered Hayward Field but I couldn’t hear any of the crowd. I was ready to be done, looked down at my watch one last time, put my hand over my heart as I crossed the finish line for Boston, then realized that it didn’t happen. I may of blurted “mother f***er” and then some volunteer looked at me straight in the eye, pointed and said, “You did great.”
6/377 AG — 33/2,625 Females — 147/4,074 Overall
I got my medal, my food, and the infamous pancakes post race. The women asked me how many pancakes I wanted (she reassured me I could have as many as I wants) and I took two. I then took the fluffiest pancakes I had ever seen to a corner, sat, stretch, devoured both of them in seconds, and had a ridiculous “pancake pity party.” I just kept thinking, “If I could have only gone 20 seconds faster, I would have PR’d and finally broken that 1:30 barrier.”
My ridiculous pity party lasted all of five minutes, but thanks to what may be the best pancakes ever, I got up and moved on to the massage tent. While I was flat on the table, I reiterated to myself that I didn’t go out there TRYING to beat 1:30. My goal was just to have a fun day and that’s exactly what I did. I smiled, I surprised myself and it was a great confidence boost that I haven’t completely lost speed by training for an Ironman.
I finished the day by finding Nicole and cheering on Asia to her awesome finish! We were screaming like crazy and just so, so happy for her!
Overall, am I hungry to get out there and try to break 1:30 and get a new full marathon PR? Hell yes. That thing is old, outdated and not reflective of how far I’ve come. But as my coach reminded me after I texted him on Sunday, it’s time to focus on my big goal: IMCDA. It’s coming up quickly and I have some really intense training weeks coming up.
And for those who are wondering, he didn’t get mad that I ran faster than originally planned. However, I do believe he’ll stick with his “I’ll have no sympathy” warning.
So with that, thank you everyone for your super sweet tweets and comments, and as always…
So…yeah…this past Saturday…I ran a half marathon.
Technically, I signed up for the Lucky 13 Half Marathon in Davis, CA (along with a few others) prior to my injury. I worked closely with my coach to watch my recovery progress as we approached race day the plan was to use the half marathon as a normal, zone two (maybe a bit of zone three) training run. It would be my PDR post-injury and I am always anxious to see how my ankle will react as we try new distances again. With that, the half marathon was on.
My alarm was set for 5 a.m. so Chicken Face, Lola and I would have plenty of time to eat, get ready and head to Davis for a little jaunt. For the first time in my racing history, I completely overslept and only had 15 minutes to get ready, shove food down my face and get on the road. This must have been my subconscious not worrying about the race, as it was just a training run after all. Right?
Chicken Face dropped me off at the start and he made his way to get his caffeine kick. I went to pick-up my bib and use the restroom, and it turned out I had plenty of pre-race time to kill. As I made my way to the start, I spotted RoseRunner and Faster Bunny (ok, ok, Caitlin and Margot). Margot was up from SoCal and I knew she would be running with Caitlin, but I hadn’t made any plans to run with them (I barely knew if I was going to see them). When I spotted gals, I leaped toward them and probably scared Margot with my immediate hugs.
As we stood there chatting, I professed my plan to keep it an easy 8-8:30/mi. basic training run, but as soon as that gun went off, it triggers my head and my heart. Most of the time, I can’t contain it and I thought what the hell, let’s see how long I can stay with them and then I’ll taper back.
So we ran and talked and ran and talked some more. We chatted about Marissa Mayer and her ridiculous no WFH policy (we can debate that later), pasty skin, dairy, and probably a story I shouldn’t have told when so many other people were around (let alone Margot as this was the first time I’ve ever met her). Caitlin, the stud that she is, just ran a stellar marathon last week and was cruising like it was a recovery run for her as we put down these splits:
M7: 8:08 (Oh shit, Caitlin & Page have to stop for the bathroom)
M8: 6:57 (Oh shit, have to catch back up with Margot)
M9: 7:10 (Ugggh, haven’t run this fast in a while)
M10: 7:16 (Must…catch…up. GU ME CAITLIN!)
M11: 7:18 (Is this thing over yet, I’m losin’ it.)
M12: 7:14 (I can hear the band!)
M13: 7:19 (Bringing it in)
13.1 Miles: 1:36:37 (Garmin) / 1:36:34 (Official)
3rd in AG / 10th Female / 44th Overall / Avg. 7:22/mi.
I didn’t expect that to happen. I didn’t expect any part of this race to have a 7 in front of any of my paces — I had convinced myself that I was too out of shape to do it. But the course was flat, the scenery was lovely (only a few boring parts) and with the help of Caitlin pacing us and a new friend in Margot, I had an a great time chatting, pushing ourselves, eating Catlin’s Gus, bitching about how we were getting tired, cursing at the fact that mile 12 wasn’t soon enough, then rejoicing at the surprising finish.
I must admit, multiple times I told Caitlin and Margot that I was going to slow down and practice what I preached, but they were so motivating that I just couldn’t give in. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t think I would have even tried to push myself that much (plus, my iPod died — lovely).
As we neared the finish, the high school band was practicing and it was just the extra oomph that I needed. Caitlin told me to “go get that age group award” and she let me go as I made my way to the finish. My legs were toast as they hadn’t run anything near that in a very long time, but we stuck together and had an awesome race.
Somehow, the first thing that we did post finish was grab the free dixie-cups of beer (note to race director: your course was great; the beer could be bigger) and grabbed our free stuff. Did we need it? No. Did they have bags to put it in? Nope. Will we still take it? You betcha!
We found Chicken Face and Lola, and made our way to the results where we found out that Margot got second in her age group and I got third. Yay for Margot (!) but honestly, that third place of mine should have been Caitlin’s. She paced me then let me go ahead in the end. I know, I know, what are we to do?! Not to worry, we devised a great shared-custody plan for the extra bling blang.
Speaking of the bling blang, both the finisher medal and AG awards were HUGE! Nice job, race director, especially for a local event. Also, note to self: do not wear a black long sleeved shirt and a black earwarmer unless you want to experience unnecessary heat torture again. Rookie move.
Today, my ankle and hip are sore. There’s no doubt that I pushed my still-recovery leg and it is throwing a bit of a tantrum. However, the race was the confidence builder I needed to reassure myself that not all is lost and that my friend speed will be back soon.
I couldn’t have asked for a better day and an extra special shout out to Margot and Caitlin for helping me overcome a big mental barrier that I’ve been dealing with lately.
There were also a ton of other big wins over the weekend: congrats again to Aron, Jess, Layla, Kristen, Alyssa and everyone else how had stellar racing weekends!
It’s weird to think that eight months ago I signed up for Vineman. I didn’t know how to swim more than 20 consecutive laps, I was completely freaked out at the thought of clipping in and I wasn’t quite sure how to run after swimming and cycling. But here we are, the morning after Vineman 70.3 and I can’t wipe this stupid grin off my face.
But before we get into the race/weekend recap, I want to say a huge THANK YOU for all of your support, encouraging comments, tweets, emails, and texts. Not just from this weekend, but over the past eight months – it means the world to me so THANK YOU!!!
Oh, and P.S., I take back everything I said before about long race recaps. THIS ONE might be the longest ever (and I don’t want to split it up into multiple blog posts).
Friday afternoon I was a mess. Like freak out, oh shit, what’s going to happen, a mess. My right knee had been acting up. It wasn’t a stabbing pain, but rather it felt like the muscles wrapped around me knee were abnormally stretching with every step I took. I got a sports massage the evening before, but was still concerned that everything I had been working for would be washed down the drain. Needless to say, I worried about and babied my knee for the next three days – all day.
Yes, my wrapping skills need some work.
I wasn’t about to back out and instead we made our way to Sabastopol, CA, where we were staying for the race. Have I mentioned that Chicken Face is the best race Sherpa EVER? Well, he is and I’m sure that he might be available for hire.
Over the next two days, we ate, ate, ate some more, hit up the expo (where I paid for an overpriced 15 minute IT band massage), went a little crazy at the Ironman store, and even caught a movie (We saw TED — it wasn’t as funny as I thought it would be as perverted bear jokes get kind of old after a while.)
Must. Not. Touch. Fries.
But it was as soon as that volunteer wrapped the paper Ironman bracelet on my wrist that it hit me: oh crap, this is real and tomorrow you’ll tackle 70.3!
Post-“oh my God this is really happening” freak out, Chicken Face and I headed to the Russian River so I can get a feel for the water and help ease any anxiety that I may have. For those who have the same open water anxiety that I do, I highly recommend swimming at the race’s swim venue to ease your nerves.
I was worried about swimming in a river for a variety of childish reasons: what color is the water? Is it cold? How will the current affect me? But once I hopped in, spent some time just looking in the water, blowing bubbles, and eventually swimming for 20 or so minutes, my nerves were completely at ease. Out of all of my weekend preparation, I think that this was the best thing I did because come race day, I had zero anxiety. I also had a mini bike and run scheduled for Saturday, but I skipped it to let me knee continue resting.
Saturday night was early to bed with usual prep activities, but a special emphasis on icing my leg 15 minutes on, 15 minutes off, three times, and rolling-rolling-rolling. If you can’t tell, I had no idea what Sunday morning would bring and I was praying for the best.
Like clockwork, I was up at 4:45, 15 minutes before my alarm clock was set. I popped an inappropriate amount of Ibuprofen and continued to get ready. My swim wave didn’t start until 8:06, so we had plenty of time to eat, digest, drive and prep for the race.
As we arrived, there were already pros and other age groups starting the bike leg of the race, which was kind of weird to not be there for the official start. I appreciated the waved starts as that meant I got to sleep in a bit more, but I envied them as they wouldn’t be running in the heavy heat. But I suppose that’s just the way the cookie crumbles (QUICK! Name that movie reference.)
T1 was PACKED and my spot was far down one of the aisles: not ideal.
I laid out my stuff and am still baffled at the amount of crap people bring with them in T1. I kept it simple and would later be glad that I did.
I found my way out of T1 and soon found my family that had come in to watch. Best of all, they surprised me with these freaking awesome t-shirts. SO LEGIT. Actually, too legit to quit.
Not only was it the most adorable thought ever, but the logo is awesome. Holy crap, I have a logo! Plus, the bright colors were extremely easy to spot during all three legs and in the midst of transition.
My mom is very proud of the quality of her shirt. So much in fact, that she had to secretly snap a shot next to her t-shirt competition. Niiiiice.
I also saw Aron (thanks for cheering, Aron!) and my friend Jess who was also racing!
It was soon time for me and my fellow orange-cappers to begin. I finished my Gu, said my goodbyes, and, oh shit, was about to do my first half Ironman.
As I made my way in, the water was warm. It was welcoming and I could hear my family doing our iconic “Aye aye aye!!!” screams from the sidelines (I can’t appropriately describe our Chilean call – I’ll have to demo in person).
I did a quick warm-up and fidgeted around a bit. Did I tell you that I was wearing a new tri top and tri bottom that I’ve never used before? Genius, I know. But in 3-2-1…we were off.
I had my own swim goals, but my coach had told me that he thinks I could pull a 30 minute swim, so that was my ultimate goal. With 30 minutes in mind, I knew I needed to push myself; however, I also knew that I needed to swim calm and steady in the beginning to prevent any anxiety. So I swam, swam, swam some more and started to think, where the hell is the turn around? As I questioned this point, I also started to get warm. Note to self: warm water can actually equal overheating in a full-length wet suit. Oh, and apparently, I can’t swim in a straight line for the life of me — I was zig zagging all over the place.
As I finally reached the turnaround point (the course is an out and back in a narrow river), I noticed there weren’t many other orange caps around me. F!!! I started to get quite frustrated as usually there are more than two or three fellow age-groupers around me. The negative thoughts started to consume me as I feared maybe something had happened and I was bringing up the back of the pack.
At one point on the way back, the water gets so shallow that you can literally stand up and walk. Given that I was hitting the gravel, I stood up, readjusted my cap that was falling off and looked at my watch. 19 minutes. Shit, I wasn’t going to hit my 30 minute goal. But within 10 seconds, I was back in the water swimming and I told myself just to keep going.
Thankfully, the way back seemed significantly shorter and I just did what I had to do.
Swim Time: 35:01/ 1:49/100 meter pace
Transition 1 Time: 4:05
T1 at this race is pretty huge as you need to run to your bike (of which I had a crappy spot), then run your bike out of T1 and up a ramp before mounting. However, that was the least of my worries because for a hot second I couldn’t find any of my stuff under my bike – it was gone! I looked around and apparently, someone had thrown my stuff almost a bike and a half over. I wanted to scream, “WHAT BIATCH DID THIS?!?!”
Then, of course, in the toss one of my lenses had popped out of my glasses. So I fidgeted around until I could pop it back in and then made my way out, still worrying that I had totally screwed up my swim. So much in fact, you can hear me shouting to my aunt in the iPhone video, “Was I last?!” What an idiot.
I hopped on my bike and well…I don’t know what happened. There were a few good climbs on the course, but outside of that, I stayed in aero 98% of the time (which I’ve never done) and just pedaled and practically talked to myself for three hours. I literally felt great the entire time – who was this?! In fact, I contemplated yelling, “I FEEL F****** AWESOME!” multiple times.
I fueled, I drank, I watched other people’s bike etiquette, I learned more bike etiquette, and had the best 56 mile ride of my life. I guess when nothing goes wrong it makes for a pretty boring recap.
Bike Time: 02:52:22/ 19 mph pace
Transition 2 Time:1:57
After I got off the bike, I could feel my knee acting up. It wasn’t enough to stop me on the run, but I could definitely feel it. Thus, I decided to take the beginning of the run nice and easy with short steps to help get my body acclimated.
By this point, all the fog had burned off and it was getting hot. Really hot. With only my breath keeping me entertained, I ran as close to the shade as I could and literally just kept looking forward to the next aid station.
Per my coach’s advice, I drank small sips at every aid station to keep hydrated in the growing heat. By this point, I was hungry, but my gut was full of liquids, making for an awkwardly full, yet hungry, situation. I would grab handfuls of pretzels and carry them with me, slowly eating them. I think my brain liked the thought of actual “substance.” Around mile 6 as we were making our way through some vineyards then back out onto the asphalt, I was ready to be done.
Ugh. It’s hot. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I need to pee. Blah, blah, blah, the complaints go on but so did I.
I would get ice from the aid station and dump it into my sports bra, I would dump water on me at every aid station, and peaches at aid stations are my new favorite thing. I’m sure I looked like a jackal over a carcass shoving those peaches in my face. Oh what a sight. My knee would act up whenever I was going uphill so I took those even easier.
When I saw the cones start to become dense, I knew we were on the homestretch and I couldn’t be more ready. I wanted to kick it in, but I was spent so I just held strong and soon saw my friend Jason kick it in. Holy crap – I was there!
I remembered the advice of trying to hold up so you have your own photo, but I literally couldn’t get my legs to do anything specific other than just finish. So to lady in front of me: sorry! As I finished, I heard someone yell, “PAGE!!!” I looked over and saw that my friend Layla was one of the finish line volunteers. I was so happy to see her, I hugged her and mumbled something along the lines of, “I’m so tired!”
Finish Time: 5:20:07
12/84 in my age group, 87/754 female overall
I made my way through to get my medal, finisher’s photo, water, and food. Of course, my mom snuck in the “athletes-only” food area and she kept asking, “What’s wrong?” I had to hold back the tears and she started to worry even more. I assured her these were happy tears because not only did I finish, but I beat my secret A goal. The only person who knew it was Chicken Face as it was hanging in our bathroom: 5:24. I not only achieved it, but beat it by four minutes. I’ve never had something like this happen. My mom hugged me and I knew that it was a good day.
Chicken Face surprised me with the most gorgeous flowers and we celebrated the day in the best way we knew how: In-N-Out and Breaking Bad. Exactly what the doctor ordered.
P.S. I’m never taking off this jacket or my new Oakley Daisy Chains.
Thank you again for all of your support. I have a lot of work still to do for Ironman Arizon and I’m more pumped than ever to take it on.
The Silicon Valley International Triathlon, or as I like to call tri number two, is in the books and it ended up being more than I could have expected. Not necessarily because of my time, but because of a few special people. My husband, mom, dad, sister, future brother-in-law (sorry, Nate!) and aunt all woke-up at 4:30 in the morning to hit the road and watch me race. Now that’s love.
Now let’s talk recap, shall we?
For some reason, I’ve become very peculiar about this breakfast. It must be Safeway Open Nature whole wheat English muffins, Trader Joe’s preserve and all natural peanut butter. They must also be toasted. I don’t know why, but I’m sticking with it for now.
Chicken Face, being the amazing Sherpa that he is, drove down while I tried to sleep some more. But after two weeks of only getting in one swim a week and the thought of my entire family watching and waiting for me, I was extremely nervous – I was almost confident that a panic attack would ensue. But the good news was that I had familiarity on my side. Because of the course change, we would be swimming at the same reservoir as the Morgan Hill Sprint Tri.
We got to the start, fussed around with the necessary body marking, laying out my stuff, and photo ops.
I knew that unlike my last race, I wanted to get in the water and do a bit of swimming before the actual start and just get my heart rate steady as I think I’ve figured out what’s happening. I start swimming, my heart rate spikes and my brain goes into this fight or flight mode causing these mental games and panic attacks. Thus, I sucked down my Gu, said goodbye to my family, into the water I went.
After I did my pre-race warm-up, I found my way into the pack of pink caps for the deep water start. The sun was glaring and we all giggled as you could barely see any of the buoys. Instead, I just knew what direction to swim and would sight the buoys as soon as I could see. 3-2-1…we’re off!
I’m the one in the pink cap.
Let’s be real: swimming is not my strong suit. Instead of sprinting like I am even half a decent swimming, I told myself to just take it slow and steady. I’d rather save myself the extra elevated heart rate and come to T1 relaxed and ready for the bike than shave an extra minute off my swim time. So that’s exactly what I did: slow, steady, stay calm, talk to myself, and in turn, I was free on any panic attacks.
In order to break up the swim distance, I broke it up into mini-goals. Get to the buoy, sight, see the next buoy, focus on nothing but getting to that next yellow triangle. These mini goals were extremely calming and kept my focused on that task at hand. I did experience a few first by getting kicked and my goggles slightly knocked off, a bit more “motion” in the water, and seeing some of the gals from the wave behind me starting pass me, but nothing that I couldn’t handle. Just keep swimming.
As I rounded the last buoy, sighted, saw the finish as my next mini goal I was ecstatic. I know I hadn’t gone fast, but I had stayed calm and had fun the entire time. The scary part was done.
I swam until I felt my hands touch the ground three time (thanks for the tip, Jeff!) and then got out and walked. Last time I ran and I felt discombobulated. What would the extra 10 seconds really do if I just walked until I regained my composure. Nada.
Walking up the ramp.
Swim Time: 29:11 / 1:47/100 yard pace
Transition 1 Time: 1:55
After I felt normal, I ran to my bike and stripped off my wetsuit and got ready to ride. Because of the course change, I had to stuff all of my swim stuff into a white bag and the race folks would pick it up and take it to the finish. I eyed my arm warmers and decided to forgo them as I didn’t want to waste anymore time.
I hopped on the bike, shouted out to my family and was on my way.
As Coach Paul advised me, I didn’t eat or drink anything for the first 15 minutes. You need to let your body acclimate from being horizontal to now being vertical again. I dropped into aero and felt really good to be there.
SURPISE! The course wasn’t as flat as I thought. There were a few little hills and some rollers along the way that kept you in check. The other thing that kept me in check? This 27-year-old female who I kept playing leap frog with (your age is written on the back of your left calf). Whenever she passed me I would grumble a silent, “WTF!” She didn’t do anything wrong, but that was positioning me one spot further from placing in my AG.
Furthermore, with the course change I got a little bored by the end. They squeezed us into narrow lanes on poorly paved streets. As I turned into the park (T2) I heard, “PAGE!” and saw my family again – LOVE!
I dismounted, called out my number, and volunteers helped point me in the direction of the new bike racks that we’d never seen (thank you, volunteers!). Frustratingly, they had tied my T2 bag so I had to sit down and waste time untying it and getting into my run gear.
Open, damn bag! OPEN!
Bike Time: 01:20:28 / 18.5 mph pace
Transition 2 Time:1:57
The thing about me and triathlons is that I know the run is my time. It’s my time to make up for my sub-par swimming and cycling skills, and it was time to pick off the other age groupers that had passed me.
I shoved ClifBloks in my top (they’re easier for me to access there) and was ready to execute the game plan I had made on the bike. Keep it at low 7 minute miles for the first three miles, then kick it up picking off any age groupers that I saw. Translation: look at legs, looks for age groupers, go after them one at a time.
Throughout the six mile run, I was able to pass three gals that had passed me on the bike. Nothing against these girls, they are great athletes, but it was an incredible confidence boost to know that my running mojo is a great advantage for me.
The run course was a little dull itself, but I met another woman on the run, we chatted and encouraged each other along – hi Shawn!
Given that this is the sport of how long you can talk to yourself, I continued to do so until I saw the finish and kicked it in.
Run Time: 42:44 / 6:53 pace
Finish Time: 2:36:15
5th in my age group, 17th female overall
I had told Chicken Face that if I was on my A-game, I’d come in under 2:40. When I found out that I came in below my goal time, I was stoked! I was also secretly basing my goal time around what might earn me an age group place compared to last year’s age group finishers. Needless to say, this year’s competitors were crazy fast!
I probably could have picked up some speed during the swim and my walk up to T1, but I’d rather be anxiety-free than shave a minute off my time. Overall, I had an amazing time and felt great. After crossing the finish line, I didn’t feel exhausted at all, indicating that I probably could have pushed it some more out there. But the best part of it all? These folks.
Thank you everyone for all of your continual support – it means the world to me. And a big congrats too all of the CDA Ironman and half IM finishers this weekend!
P.S. I still feel extremely awkward about posting so many photos of myself with these race recaps…
Thanks to some work distractions (i.e. our work retreat where we all went “glamping” for two days – more on that later), I completely lagged in getting last week’s recap up. I know, I know…how could you possibly survive without a post about how much I worked out. Chin up, little one, because here it is: TAPER AND RACE WEEK!
Mon., 5/14: Swim
2,700 meters in the outdoor pool. I literally don’t remember anything about this swim outside of what I have in my notes, “A little slow, but felt good overall.” Genius writer right here, folks.
The good news is that I finally found two training suits that fit! Yes, I use two pieces – my torso is abnormally long and one piece suits are NOT pretty. Both from SwimOutlet.com, the “Uglies” suit on the right was only $20 – score!
Tues., 5/15: Rest
Another impromptu trip to Los Angeles for work meant switching around my rest days.
Wed., 5/16: Run/Strength
My first interval run back from taking some run time off for my hip and oh how I’ve missed them. Here was the race prep interval run:
15′ Warm Up @ HR Zone 1-2
5 x 1/4 Mile @ HR Zone 5a (5k Pace) 1/4 Mile Easy Jog RI
Remainder of the 45′ Run @ HR Zone 2
I finished up Wednesday with 15 minutes of core work.
Thurs., 5/17: Cycle
Another race prep workout to keep the blood flowing but the intensity manageable:
10′ Warm Up @ Zone 1-2
With 10′ @ Zone 3-4, Cadence 90+rpm.
Remainder of the 40′ @ Zone 1-2
Fri., 5/18: Two Open Water Swims (a.m./p.m.)
Good friends are people who do open water swims with you at 6 a.m. and selflessly swim with you to calm you the hell down. I owe them a six pack for that one. Later that night, I met up with my coach for another open water swim and a few pointers on swim mechanics. Another great confidence builder for Sunday’s tri.
Sat., 5/19: Cycle
What was supposed to be a 20 minute race prep-ride turned into almost an hour ride as I didn’t gauge how far my cousin’s house was when I offered to ride there. Also, proof that Chicken Face and I take “bike” rides together:
Sun., 5/20: RACE!
I closed out week 24 with:
6 hours and 15 minutes of training (definitely a taper week):
7327.2 yards swimming
42.4 miles cycling
10.9 miles running (stupid hip)
15 minutes strength training
I have a big double brick planned for this weekend, a birthday celebration and enjoying the weekend catching up on life. Hope you all have a fantastic and safe holiday weekend.
Warming: be prepared for a ridiculously long recap and far too many photos of myself.
A 4:15 alarm is never a welcome thing, especially when you wake-up every hour wondering if it’s time for your fate to be determined. Soon it was time to roll out of bed and head to Morgan Hill for the Morgan Hill Sprint Triathlon: 3/4 mile swim, 16 mile bike and 5 mile run.
(Triathlon tip from Coach Paul: apparently there is no “official” or “standard” distance for sprint triathlons. Technically anything less than an Olympic distance is considered a sprint. Who knew.)
As I rolled into the event I saw Chris McCrary, one of the leaders on the Forward Motion Race Club that I’m a part of, and he was quick to help me through the set-up process. Tape your number here, rack your bike there, etc. – he knew this was my first and it just the type of newbie support that I needed.
After a quick bathroom break and body marking, I wiggled into my wetsuit and made my way to the start of the swim with Chicken Face to watch the waves ahead of me take off. I nervously took a Gu and before you knew it, kissed Chicken Face goodbye and I was ready to go.
As I stepped into the edge of the water, my feet quickly sank in the mud. Oh no. Mud = murky water. I put my head down and my suspicions were verified, I couldn’t see anything but green and my hands. Strangely, at least being able to see my hand brought some comfort. I swam out to the far right side of the buoys as it was a deep water start. Looking back, I should have spent this time warming up, but I thought my elevated heart rate was enough.
As the yellow caps went off, the pink caps made their way to the start. I stayed to the right (just like track, the fast folks go on the left) and within a matter of moments, we were off. There wasn’t much kicking, punching, touching or anything to be drama or panic-worthy. So I just swam and like clockwork, my heart rate was overwhelming me. NO. NO. NO! NO PANIC ATTACKS.
I knew in my head that this panic was unwarranted so I stopped, did some breaststroke, then flipped on my back for a quick moment to get my composure. It only took about 30 seconds but it was worth it because it worked. I flipped back over and counted. 1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-sight/breathe-1-2-3-breather. It seemed to do the trick because from that moment on I found my rhythm and just swam. The swimming felt like it came naturally, as did my sighting, and I wanted to smile in the water.
The swim was actually around an island in the reservoir and as I rounded the corner, I sighted and could see the end of the swim. I did it. I had overcome my panic attack and went on to actually enjoy the open water swimming.
As I neared the end, I remembered the tips that my coach and friends had told me: keep swimming until your hand scrapes the bottom three times. As soon as I felt the ground, I popped up and started my way up the ramp while ripping the top half of my wetsuit off.
I heard Chicken Face cheering for me and I screamed at him, “What was my swim time?!” Apparently my watch didn’t start and I had no idea what my pace actually was.
He shouted “24 minutes,” back at me.
“24?!” I questioned.
“Yes!” he replied.
With a minor panic attack and a newbie swimmer, this was exactly the confidence booster that I needed. I slipped on my cycling gear (no gloves, no socks – lesson learned), switched watches (annoying) and took my baby on to the next leg.
Swim Time: 23:46 / 1:49/100 yard pace
Transition Time: 2:00
Pumped with excitement from accomplishing my biggest fear, I made my way to the bike course and quickly popped into my aerobars. BOOM! Another fear accomplished and I stayed there for a majority of the ride (except photo ops and the hill climbs).
More than anything, this leg made me appreciate people who say, “On your left!” You can scream it at me, you can politely warn me, I don’t care, just say it. Because when I almost eat it from seeing a pothole to late so I swerve and you get pissed because I slightly swerved, well maybe you should have told me you were trying to pass!
I continued on my way and was fairly uneventful outside of the ridiculously good time I was having. I love cycling.
As I approached the transition, I could see girls getting out of their shoes while riding and while admirable, there was no way I was going to attempt that just yet.
Bike Time: 51:00 / 18.8 mph pace
Unsure of how my body would react by this point and given that it was an out and back course, I decided to try and maintain my pace at 7:00/miles and then decide as the turnaround how I wanted to pace the second half.
I started out with small steps until I quickly regained my balance and stride. When I saw other athlete’s ages on their legs, I kept an eye out for the 25-29 age groupers. As I reached the turnaround, my stomach was “sloshy” so I downed some ClifBloks and tried to increase the pace to sub 7 minutes.
As I rounded the corner, I ripped off my sunglasses and pushed it in. FINISHED!
Run Time: 34:38 / 6:55 pace
I crossed the finish line feeling fantastic. I wasn’t exhausted or tired, but instead, proud of this next step in my journey. To add to my excitement, I found out that I placed in my age group and couldn’t be happier.
Finish Time: 1:52:49
3rd in my age group, 23rd female overall
Overall, I felt fantastic and it reconfirmed why I’m on this journey. Taking risks, overcoming fears and pushing myself to new levels. I think I’m in love.
Next up…lessons learned from my first tri.
In the fury of last week, I failed to mention that Sunday was race day: the Oakland Half Marathon.
Perhaps I subconsciously avoided the topic because nothing in me wanted to race. Not only was the weather supposed to be awful, but I haven’t raced since the Las Vegas Half in December, which was before I started training for IMAZ. Deep down, I think I was afraid to face where my running fitness was.
But being the person who hates wasting money, I wasn’t about to back out. Plus, all of my Bay Area running friends would be there – I couldn’t DNS.
The Oakland Half marathon kicked off at 9:15, the latest start I’ve ever experienced. However, I wasn’t one to complain as the sky was dark and gloomy, but void of any precipitation. It was going to be perfect running weather.
Armed with a Gu shoved in my bra, my iPod shuffle, Oiselle arm warmers and my throwaway gloves, I stood in the corral with only the following strategy in mind:
Just run however you feel.
With the incorporation of two new sports into my training, I had no idea what to expect. If I felt sub-par, I told myself to be ok with it and just take it as a training run. I’d go with whatever pace my legs and heart could hold.
The gun went off and we ran through shooting confetti. The energy was effervescent.
The reason racing is so important to me in a training schedule is because of the undeniable energy. There are no motivational words that can give you the same adrenaline kick like racing. It never fails to suck me in and push my limits.
As soon as we started, I felt my energy mount and my legs just…went.
The first couple of miles were a matter of finding my place in the pack. I usually try and spot someone to pace with. I found my pacer in woman in all black (who was in amazing shape) and I was determined to stick with her. As we made our way, I could tell that we were working off of each other.
I was able to stick with the woman in black until mile eight or nine, and soon, the bad ass shot ahead. I was proud that I stuck with her and even more excited for her to demolish the rest of the course.
Speaking of the course, it was mostly flat with a few little climbs. However, to say it had a few turns would be an understatement. I tried my best to run than tangents and shorten my stride/pump my arms on the little climbs around Lake Merritt.
It was when I was rounding the lake that I began to feel myself lose some steam. I was tired and ready to call it a day. But when I looked down at my watch, it hit me: I could PR and break 1:30.
I had maybe two miles left and if I could keep my pace under 7 minute miles or so, I might be able to make this happen. At that exact moment, some Eminem song came out that deluded me into thinking I was a bad ass. I was going to do this.
Pumped with an excessive amount of mental motivation, I rounded the final stretch back into downtown. But instead of a straight shot into the finish, I saw that last 100 meters was a hill. Shit.
I pumped my arms.
I tried to ignore the pain.
I saw Aron cheering on the side.
I crossed the finish.
6th in my age group, 14th female (out of 2,078), 68th overall (out of 3,456)
An 8 second PR, but I just couldn’t break 1:30.
Mile 1: 6:31 (Going out too fast)
Mile 2: 6:42
Mile 3: 6:45
Mile 4: 6:37
Mile 5: 6:52
Mile 6: 6:48
Mile 7: 6:50
Mile 8: 7:02 (Losing my mojo and the girl in black)
Mile 9: 6:58
Mile 10: 6:51
Mile 11: 7:06 (Lake Merritt hills)
Mile 12: 6:53
Mile 13: 6:38 (It’s game time)
Last .1/.22: 1:27 (My watch says the course was actually 13.22 miles!)
You could call it mental anguish, but I was just pissed. If that woman didn’t run into me at that aid station or what if I took the corners better. The amount of “what ifs” that ran through my head was unnecessary.
I later met up with my friends who all ran amazing races (it must have been our matching purple socks). To see them, not to mention the post-race mimosas, was what made my mental torture subside.
I later texted Coach Paul and he reminded me, “A PR is still a PR. You’ll get your sub 1:30 this year!” And you know what, he’s right.
This race reminded me that I need to trust in Coach Paul and the training program he’s giving me. I was really frustrated with my running as I wasn’t running as much and I feared that it was deteriorating. But in reality, everything I’m doing is working. Instead of running aimlessly everyday, the workouts I do are specific and intentional.
I’m now determined to break 1:30 this year and I know Coach Paul will help me get there. I just need some trust. Trust in my training, trust in myself.
I don’t know what happened. Honestly.
Chicken Face and I arrived at the start at 6:30 a.m. (which felt like 5:30 – thanks for nothing daylight savings time), and once I took a quick look around, my gut started to sink. Fast-looking bikes. Aero helmets. Disc wheels. Oh man, was I in over my head?
I took a look around and tried to copy as many people as I could: this is how you hang your bike up, this is where you put your helmet, this is how you lay out your stuff. My measly pile of gloves, shoes and a water bottle looked pathetic next to everyone else who had towels laid out (wait, I thought there wasn’t a swim?) and boat loads of unnecessary crap. People were warming up around the lot and exuding some serious parking lot intimidation.
I used my old bike for the race – my new baby and I still need to get better acquainted.
Once 7:30 rolled around I toed the start line, which was actually just a road hump, with the following strategy in mind (thanks, Coach Paul):
First Run (10k): Pace myself somewhere between a 10k and half marathon pace, but DO NOT go my full 10k pace or I’d surely blow up. Fueling should consist of one gel half way through the race.
Bike (40k): Give it my all. Given that this is my first bike race, Coach Paul said to just lay it all on the line to see how I feel. However, I was admonished to NOT go over heart rate zone 4 or that too would result in blowing up on the last run. Fueling should consist of hydration and 200 calories.
Last Run (5k): I obviously would not be able to go my regular 10k pace, but give it a good effort. No fueling should be needed.
Once the announcer said, “Oh, um, GO!” I found my spot in the pack with two other females ahead of me. I kept looking at my watch and thinking, “Oh god, I’m going too fast.” But the funny thing was, I felt slow and in control. Were the stars aligning? When the mile marker passed and all of our watches went off I told the other women, “Well, at least all of our watches are in sync.” They didn’t comment back. Ok then, never mind.
The 10k was two loops and I felt solid, fast, easy and strong. Chicken Face cheered me on as I entered the transition and he starting shouting at me, “Shoes first, gloves last!” I smiled, heeded his advice and starting yelling, “I have no idea how to transition!” Lets just say that my transitions need some serious work as all of the women zoomed past me.
The 40k ride consisted of five, yes five, loops. Each loop included a killer hill climb that I saw some people walking their bikes on, but I vowed never to dismount. The five loops wasn’t ideal, but I did get to see Chicken Face multiple times and shout out to him, smile for the camera, and get that extra boost of confidence.
Don’t worry, I know my outfit is super sexy and oh-so-official. Pink compression socks, orange arm warmers, and a pirate jersey that is far too short for my torso.
Throughout the entire ride, I never looked at my watch (I don’t know why) nor did I know what speed I was going. I just rode. I also tried to drink my prescribed 200 calories worth of hydration, but unfortunately, grabbing the water bottle isn’t my strong suit and I opted for 200 calories worth of my back-up: margarita flavored ClifBloks.
Despite the screeching noise my bike was making (which I chose to ignore), the entire ride was pretty seamless. Well, that is until I took a turn to sharp and started to veer off the road.
“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!”
Instead of completely crashing, I spared my life and took out a cone instead, immediately clipping out.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” I thought. Then I went on my merry way.
As I made my way back into the final transition, Chicken Face was there to greet me (well, outside of the fence) and once again, I continued to loathe my transition skills and having to untie and tie back up my shoes. My heart rate monitor hadn’t stayed in place the entire ride and finally I shouted, “This thing is annoying as shit!” (Yes, I curse a lot). A volunteer was advising me to just forget it and go, but I had to rip it off and throw it in the transition area. I’ve yet to determine if I’ve found it again.
Coach Paul advised taking short steps as I ease into this next run, so I did just that. Naturally, my legs felt like Jell-O, but I just stayed calm and ran where my body felt comfortable. When I looked down at my watch, once again I thought, “What the hell?!”
As we entered the last stretch, my shoe came untied and there was no way that I was going to stop and fix it. I just hustled in and strangely, felt absolutely amazing.
1st in my age group, 5th female overall (out of 124 females)
Who is this person and what have you done with Page? Here’s how the splits broke down:
10k: 43:53 / 7:03 avg. pace (3rd female)
25k: 1:22:35 / 18.05 mph (11th female)
5k: 21:38 / 6:57 avg. pace (1st female)
While it was a small race, I still came away shocked. I was so incredibly nervous, but like Coach Paul said, I just need to trust in my training. I’m excited to see what the rest of this year will bring.
SURPRISE! Today, I convinced Chicken Face, my cousin and his girlfriend to come out to the Walnut Creek Festival Run for a good ol’ 5k. Sorry Cody, if you say, “Hey Page, let me know next time there’s a 5k, I want to run one,” I will find one for you the very next weekend. You’ve been warned. Plus, I was happy to support Aron and Kristin who worked so hard to put this 5/10k on.
Given my pure lack of sleep and my loathing hatred for 5Ks, I didn’t talk much about this race leading up to it as I wasn’t really sure how I was going to approach it. But as Aron will be the first to call out, once I get to the race and totally am consumed by the energy of other racers, I usually go for it.
Our good friend Katie was also running the 5K and lately, she’s been taking 1st place at every race like they were free Costco samples. Thus, I was happy to have her there as a bit of motivation/inspiration.
As we toed the start line, a couple of 9-year-old boys trash talked us, mocking the speed at which a girl could run. What’s that 9-year-old? Are you challenging me? Not cool. I kid…I kid…but seriously…
Using the only smart advice I’ve ever been given about how to attack a 5K…I ran until my eyes bled. Well, not really, but you can see where we’re going with this. Essentially, you run until you think you can’t run anymore, then HOLD ON.
Attack of the Quadzilla!
Thank you for clapping, Mr. Officer.
While it wasn’t a PR, I was happy to cross the finish line in 19:thirty-something. OH HOW THE LUNGS STUNG!
I quickly joined Aron to cheer on everyone else who was out that morning. Chicken Face ( who doesn’t even LIKE running) looked happy — cotton shirt and all.
To add to the great morning, I realized that I was third female overall and first in my age group. HOLLA – I’ve never placed OVERALL before! That’s the beauty of smaller races. My good friends Katie and Tara also joined me on the podium – a great group all around.
BUT WAIT! It get’s better…Chicken Face and I were walking to get water when I hear his name called over the speakers.
“CHICKEN FACE! That’s you!” I screamed.
“No, no, there must be someone else with my name…” he pled.
“NO! YOU GOT SECOND PLACE!”
I pushed him up to the podium where he was partly shocked and humble the whole way. THAT’S MY MAN!
A great race with good friends, an overall and age group win, and my Chicken Face taking the podium for the first time ever.
Le sigh. Today was good and exactly what I needed.
I hope you all had a great weekend and were able to pay tribute to those we lost in 9/11 and those who continue to fight for us.