Rewind back to July 10, 2010. I had been running for two months and I was about to test myself in the first race that I actually trained for. At this point in my running career, I had no clue what I was doing; little or no knowledge in training, eating, drinking or racing. I set out on that morning running a much faster pace than I had planned or prepared for. I remember at about 1.25 miles into the race a lady asked me what pace I wanted to run and I said 7:30. She just scoffed and slowed down and let me run ahead until she passed me 2 or so miles later. I never saw her again. I remember wondering where the water stations were as I was running along the river, but only because I had read somewhere that you should drink water as you ran. I ran by one aid station at around 5 miles and didn't drink but just kept on going. At this point, I was still feeling pretty good. Because the course is an out and back, I crossed the same aid station on the way back and got a cup of water this time. I took a small sip, but felt like I couldn't drink so I just poured the rest on my head and cup on pressing forward. At mile 10 I started to tank. My arms were numb and tingly, my legs felt heavy, and my head didn't really feel like my own. My throat was dry and I remember trying to save the saliva that was gathering in my mouth to try and have enough to wet my throat as I swallowed it. A mile later, I forced myself into a faster pace and gutted the rest of the race out, finishing in 1:44:32 which is a 7:58 minute/mile pace. I crossed the finish line exhausted. I was dizzy, nauseous, and my legs were cramping very badly. I found a quiet area and collapsed against the fence and tried to rest and compose myself. When I spoke, I couldn't manage to say what I wanted to. It all came out like babbling nonsense. This kept on until I vomited. Violently. I figured this was just something I had to get used to in the running world. I spent the rest of the day feeling like garbage.
Fast forward to July 9, 2011. I have now run more than 1,500 miles. I have run 3 5k's, 2 10k's, 5 half marathons, 1 30k, 2 marathons and a sprint triathlon. I have learned a lot along the way, and I was going to put myself to the test in this race. I lined up with the front runners of the group and we were off. I started off at a quick pace, around 7:09 for the first mile, which included a 30 second walk break, which during long distances I take after every 5 minutes of running. I use this time to force myself to control effort, rehydrate, and center myself for the next 5 minutes of running. I was feeling fine and believing that all of my hard work was paying off. Within the first 5 miles, I was already trying to calculate what type of time I could run, and I just tried to force the thoughts out of my head and just focus on proper hydration and form. At the halfway point, I started to pick up my speed. and decrease the walk breaks from 30 seconds down to 15. I kept pushing the pace, as I was feeling strong and I was starting to reel in other runners that were starting to tank. I knew there would be several, as I was one of those same people in the race last year. At mile 10, I was was feeling fantastic. I was keeping a quick pace and I was starting to cut out the walk breaks entirely. I knew that I would be able to finish with a PR if I could just keep on going. At mile 11 I started to open up my stride and really attack the course. I passed Isaac Levi which really made me happy since there is just something about his attitude that I don't like. I don't even know the kid, but something about his elitist attitude just gets at me. He was really starting to tank. As I emerged from the greenbelt, I saw another runner ahead of me, and I really dug in and blew past him with about 50 yards to go. I was then bottle necked coming into the stadium, but I squeezed around the slower people and sprinted to a 1:31:16 finish. 13 minutes and 16 seconds faster than last year, and nearly 8 minutes faster than my PR from Zeitgeist in November. I felt like I could have kept going and I knew that there would be no cramping, nausea, vomiting, or anything other than enjoying my 1st place finish for my age division. I am very proud of what I have accomplished, and I can't wait to see what else I can do in the coming year.
As I write this entry, I find myself looking back at the pictures that were taken last year, and how amazing the differences are.
I was really hurting here. If you look close enough, you can see that I have goose bumps on my arms. Not a good sign after running that hard. The temp was in the 70's-80's, so it wasn't exactly cold. I was learning what dehydration felt like.
This picture speaks for itself. I was really messed up here. I threw up shortly afterwards.
At the finish. Completely different than the previous year.
Feeling fine! Like I could go out and do it again.
