Running a life well-lived

One of my favorite races was last weekend on PEI: Freeze your Gizzard Half-Marathon in Montague. It was my fourth time running. This year, the weather was windy but mild so no gizzards were frozen.

A special thing happened to me at this race.  A thing which may never happen again. I broke the female course record of 1:29:59 with a 1:28:15 performance.

Originally, I didn’t think that I would write an official race report as I actually have very little to write. I had this magical race day where I didn’t think about much else other than executing my coach’s thorough race plan and climbing into the pain box the last 5-6km.

Photo credit Gemma Callaghan

I was lucky to run with PEI guy Cory Birch from 12km on which was awesome for both of us. I was chatting a bit with him and that was worth the few seconds it might have cost me.  Though I had promised myself that I would have a chatter-free race, I can’t run next to someone new and rely on their help without some chatting!  My sister held the spot of second place woman during the race. He told a funny story about racing his brother in a duathlon and carrying his bike the last 3 km to beat him. Luckily I didn’t have to carry anything on Sunday.

Back in the fall, when I agreed to coach my group of half marathon “Forever 21.1” women, my runner Gina told mutual friend David K that I was going to be her coach. She sent me a text saying, “I told David that you were going to be my coach and he said….”  That was the end of the text preview on my iPhone’s screen. I try not to be on my phone when I’m with my kids and I put it away until the kids were in bed while wondering what David might have said.

When I opened the text later and it read:

“oh my god, she’s gonna show you how to crawl into the pain box.”

What followed from Gina was:

“I don’t know what this pain box is, but I do not like the sound of it, hahaha.”

So I laughed and shook my head.  There were many things he could have said re my coaching and this was what he chose!

The “pain box” at km 16 or 17

For this half marathon, I had thought carefully about my trip into the pain box.  Coach’s instructions were to get in and get familiar with the hurt before Boston Marathon, my goal race. So I did. The pain box was good to me. I was worried that I might fall over the last 2km-  I was dizzy and low on fuel but was able to keep pushing. I was also able to successfully pushed back the “central governor” who was trying to sound alarm bells that this is “dangerous and too risky.” It was actually my most successful shutting-up of the central governor ever. I had new shoes on from my beloved Salam Hashem and he assured me that a special feature sole/forefoot feature on these 20th anniversary Asics DS Trainers would enhance gripping and help push the ground back on push off, giving me extra power, “These will be very good,” he said, “you will run fast and you will win.” For awhile, I was mentally imagining myself crushing the central governor into the ground using the rubber of the forefoot on each pushoff.

I had to idea what the clock was going to show when I got to the finish line as I hadn’t looked at my watch clearly since 10km.  I had a brief thought of training buddy Jamie who is still riding me about missing my sub-39 10km by 10 seconds. Then I was so excited when I saw it said 1:28 and not 1:29.

While I certainly put the work in to make this day happen, I feel fortunate to have had this day.  I feel fortunate to truly enjoy our sport. I feel fortunate to run with a coach that stresses enjoyment before results (though his training produces results).

In the month of February, I had 3 separate non-running people in my life gush about “how do you have the energy to do all this training and take care of your children and work full time, blah, blah, blah….”

Then we had this rather silly discussion among my roadrunners group about how many beers was acceptable at the Red Sox game the day before Boston Marathon. I briefly thought about the equation between beer and wasting all the sacrifices I have made this training cycle to be as fit as possible. Then I stopped and thought more. “Sacrifices.”  Those aren’t even my words.  They are words that I assume belong to the people who look at my life and make assumptions about my energy and assumptions about what I might be sacrificing to parent, work and train.

I do all four of these things: parenting, marriage, running and working full time.  Each of them individually makes me better at the other three. I haven’t sacrificed anything. Rather, I’ve made room in my life for the things that I love to do. That’s a life well-lived.

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Freeze Your Gizzard Half Marathon Win!

A wise person once said that running is a very lonely obsession. Yet the paradox is that it builds confidence & strangers look out for each other.  This quote was on my mind today as I raced my first tune-up race of this training cycle.  I’ll tell you why in a moment.

For the last 4 years, I’ve come home to PEI to run the PEI Road Runners Club’s Freeze Your Gizzard Half Marathon in Montague.  I have the option to do the Halifax Hypothermic Half but “Freeze your Gizzard” is way more fun to say and it’s a tradition that my aunt Dawn, a runner, and I share with each other.

Freezing Freeze Your Gizzard Start Line

This morning, when I woke, the race day forecast was -15.  Not really ideal race temperature.  Indeed, I was worried that my gizzard may in fact freeze.  My Asics & Aerobics First sponsored Speedstars were making their race debut.  No way the Speedstar’s gizzard was gonna freeze, she’s smokin’ hot (pink).

I was mildly nervous about the reaction to my flaming hot pink shoes but no one paid me much mind as I registered and warmed up around the start.  Exactly one other runner was warming up- a sign of how cold it was.  My head felt like an ice cube during my 3km warm up but the rest of me was warm.

Soon, we were off, headed to “downtown” Montague.  My race goal was to run at marathon pace, 4:30/km.  The first 5km passed quickly without much incident, I was careful not to run too fast because it would have been very easy to run faster than goal pace.  4:30 splits (time for each km) are easy to count.  I passed a few runners as the field evened out. I was aware that I was the lead female.

At km 7, at the top of a very steep hill and on the crest of a beautiful downhill, I caught up with a very nice male runner.  “I was waiting for this downhill!” I said.  He agreed.  He was running a good pace and I would have blown my pace if I passed him.  So I stayed next to him (or sometimes a few steps behind).  For the rest of the race.

Herein lies the beauty of being a runner, in a community of road racers, where you look out for strangers .  And strangers become kind and dear race partners.  I never met this guy before.  Yet we contentedly ran together for 14km.  Around km 12, I asked him his name.  He was Mike.  Mike is good because I already have a running Mike and he’s great.  New Mike and I had a similar race goal.  He was worried about falling off pace.  I was worried about losing female lead.

Racing a few steps behind new Mike

I didn’t think about much between km 5 & 15.  I was counting my splits in my head, meeting my splits more or less, give or take an uphill or a downhill.  Occasionally I said a few words to Mike.  I thought once or twice about my coach Cliff and about how I believed I could run this pace because he believed I could run this pace.

My lovely aunt Dawn chose not to run this year and became Lead Cheerleading Officer, along with her brother Dana.  I was super happy to see them every few km.  She made one double-back to warn us of a particularly icy area where the lead male fell.  She called out our place in the field and I said to Mike, “Good, we’ll hold this and you’ll be 6 and I’ll be 7.”  I wanted him to know that I wasn’t going to hang on with him, let him share the work with me, only to blow by him like a jerk during the last km.

Last year, during this very race, I placed second female, after leading the race until km 15.  Fast Islander Rebecca caught me and I couldn’t catch her again.  There’s one turn-around point in the race around 8km and I saw then that she was about 800m behind me.

1:04 was the last coherent split I thought of and this wasn’t even a correct split.  The ability to count is a mental faculty that I always lose in a race.  My real Mike will confirm that it sometimes even shuts off in our workouts with Cliff.  Between km 12 & 16, I was imagining fast Rebecca breezing by me again.  I didn’t struggle this race except with this fear.  Finally around km 16, I asked Dawn how far back she was.  Dawn said, “way behind, run baby!” so I ran easily from then on.  Cliff told me to pick it up at km 16 but I didn’t.  There are 2 huge hills in the last 5km, and aside from course difficulty, I didn’t want to be a jerk in a fun tune-up race.   Race friend Mike fell on the ice at the turn-around at km 18.  I stopped with him until he got up, we walked a few steps and then continued because he was unharmed.

We crossed the finish line 6th & 7th and I held onto lead girl to win the female field in 1:35:44.  We hugged.  The win felt great.  This was my first race as Erin Poirier and with my pink panthers (Asics Speedstars).  Happy to report they both race well!  Full race results here

Finish line hug from fellow racer, Mike