3M Half Marathon 2012 Race Report.
I wasn't sure what sort of goal to formulate for this race. My PR was last year at 3M, and last year I was right in the peak of Ironman training for New Zealand. And I had a really strong race and was ecstatic with my performance and my time.
Whereas this year my times have been all over the place and I've felt a little out of sorts with my training since Palo Duro. A week and a half before 3M I had to do a run that contained 3x2 miles at 3M goal pace. Which means I had to actually.. come up with a 3M goal pace. I decided I'd at least try to PR and see what happened. That meant I had to run sub-1:48, or sub-8:15/mile. Yikes. I haven't been throwing down many low 8s in training lately. And my 3x2 miles was all over the place.. an 8:16, an 8:06, then an 8:19 and an 8:22. In the end, it all averaged out to exactly 8:15. Not inspiring.
But I decided that was my formal goal. My informal goal was to feel good. I mean.. not "good", per se. I wanted to push myself, but I didn't want to be miserable. I wanted to enjoy it and feel good about my effort, and hopefully be satisfied with the result of said effort.
Then I had to figure out how best to achieve this goal. Last year I ran with the 1:50 group and pulled ahead of them by the end. I could do that again, just try to pull FURTHER ahead. Or I could just watch my Garmin the whole time and try to keep my pace around 8:14. Or I could just run entirely by feel, but some days my body can't tell the difference between how a 9:30 feels and how an 8:15 feels. So that made me nervous.
I bounced it off Coach Jamie, and he said to start with the 1:45 pacers, fall back a little in the first few miles (I'm not a good fast starter) but keep them in sight, catch up to them by mile 3, stay with them 3-9, then leave them behind at 9. I found his plan HIGHLY AMUSING. But evidently he was serious. So I told him I'd give it my best shot.
Race morning we were running a little behind, and got parked with about 20 minutes until race start. We got super lucky and ran by two non-race-affiliated portapotties with a very short line, and between running from car to portapotties and then portapotties to dry clothes drop-off, then from there to the start chute, I accumulated a very, very slow 8 minutes of warm-up. Not quite the 15 minutes + drills and strides that I was assigned.
The good news is, the weather was PERFECT. Low 40s, not humid, just beautiful. Well, cold, really, but only when you're standing around waiting to start. I had a very stylish plaid flannel buttondown shirt over my long-sleeve+sleeveless ensemble, that I planned to wear for the first few miles, then shed on the side of the road. But by the time I wriggled my way upstream in the start chute to the big 1:45 sign, the crowd was close enough and tall enough that I felt warm enough to shed the flannel. I was way off to the side of the chute and couldn't get in any further, but I could see the little 1:45 sign in the middle, and I was about even with it.
Race started right on time, and we trudged up toward the start line. Not far to go, though.. I think this was the closest to the start line I've ever started in a race that big.
Crossed the start line and things spread out enough that I could start running. I got settled and looked over to find the 1:45 sign so I could get closer. And I couldn't find it. Okay, no big deal. It can't be far, and I'm not supposed to be with them right at the beginning anyway. So I just settled in to warm up a bit.
It was dark and crowded, and I just weaved through the crowd, passing people and being passed, eavesdropping on groups, avoiding shed outer layers in the road, and always keeping an eye out ahead of me for the 1:45 sign.
When I passed the mile 1 marker, the clock said 8:20something, and I hadn't started too long after the race clock began, so I knew that was fairly accurate. And so it made sense that I had lost the 1:45 pacers. They had to run even 8 minute miles to hit 1:45, so with my 8:20, I was somewhere 20 seconds behind them. I tried to pick up the pace in the next mile, and kept searching the crowd ahead of me.
The first few miles were all boring industrial park, but it was so dark you couldn't really even see it, and the sunrise was beautiful. A few long, low uphills and some enthusiastic cheering from Heather&Co were the only real notable things in the first 4 miles.
Weird little loop under 183 and then onto Shoal Creek. Someone cheered my name and I saw Catherine (and dog) and thanked her for her support by peeling off my nasty, sweaty gloves and flinging them at her, except I was already past her, so she had to hoof it over to retrieve them. Thank you, Catherine. It was too warm for gloves at that point, though. It was still low 40s, but my hands were hot and my long sleeves were pushed up to my elbows.
Further down the road, it got too hot for my earband, as well. I pushed it back to expose my ears, which helped for a while, but then I needed to take it off. Meanwhile I'm carrying a little flask of water in one hand (so I could skip the first few horribly crowded aid stations), and a gu in the other hand. I freed up one hand and pulled my earband off. And heard something hit the ground behind me. Turned around and it was my sunglasses, which I'd forgotten were up there. A girl behind me very, very kindly slowed enough to pick them up and I ran back to get them from her, and put them on my face, since it had gotten bright enough to wear them. Except my earband was horribly sweaty, and that sweat was now covering my sunglasses. So then I took my sunglasses back off and tried to use my earband to clean them off, which was rather dumb, since it was my earband which got them so wet in the first place. But my attempt to juggle earband, sunglasses, flask and gu meant that I then dropped my earband in the road. I was a complete mess during this section. So I turned around AGAIN and ran back to pick it up, and a guy passed me and said, "Again?!" and I said, "I know! It's even a different thing this time!" But at least I'd gotten my sunglasses wearable, and wrapped my gross earband around my wrist. And was moving forward again.
Shortly after mile 4, I checked the time on my watch, since I planned to gu at 40 minutes. It said 36 something, so I made a note to check back soon. It so happened that I checked my watch and found it had been 40 minutes right as I was going by the mile 5 marker. I'm bad at race math, but even this was math my brain could handle then. I had averaged 8 minute miles for the first 5 miles. With an 8:20 for my first mile, that meant I had to be getting near the 1:45 pacers, even if I still couldn't see them. And also, holy shit, I'm averaging 8 minutes miles. That made me a little nervous, that I was going too fast, but I was actually so far accomplishing my goal of Feeling Good. I was running as fast as I could without breathing super hard or it feeling unsustainable. Things were good.
The whole Foster and Great Northern section is a blur. A lot of people cheered for me by name, but I will guiltily admit that in many cases, even when I looked up and smiled and thanked, I didn't see who was cheering. But thank you, people who cheered. It made a huge difference.
Back onto Shoal Creek again, still feeling good, and in familiar territory, since this was my Run To Work route. Passed my favorite portapotty at Shoal Creek and Hancock, but stomach was feeling good.
Turned onto 45th and knew I'd hopefully be passing Betsy somewhere on the uphill. Not that I'd be able to see her, since the famous 3M uphill-into-the-sun had moved from North Loop to 45th. I thought 45th was easier than North Loop, though, and just powered up the hill as comfortably as I could. As I heard Betsy cheer for me, I unwound my earband from my wrist and flung it at her and asked if she could please take that. I felt much better having lost gloves, earband, flask and gu. Unfettered. And still strong.
Almost to Duval and I passed Catherine again, and she said something about how well I was doing. I almost broke down and asked her the thing I'd wanted to ask every spectator I'd seen: Where was the 1:45 pacer? I felt like they must be right ahead of me, but I couldn't catch them. But I was afraid they'd say they passed 3 minutes ago, and I couldn't make up that deficit. I decided ignorance was bliss.
(Right after that, I also passed by a cheering Tony, which I note only for later reference.)
Turned onto Duval, back on the traditional 3M course. I still felt good. I tried to take the second gu I had pinned to my shorts, but was reminded that, even though I was sweating and wished I were wearing less clothes, it was still in the 40s out there, because my gu was practically solid. Choked down maybe half of it and threw the rest out at an aid station.
I was in a solid group of similarly-paced people, and I used their energy to keep me going. There was a pair of girls running right next to me for the last 3 miles. One was obviously pacing the other, and the one being paced was obviously struggling a bit, because the pacer kept offering encouragement. A lot of it. Constantly. And the pacee was wearing headphones and never said a single word in return. I think maybe she wanted to punch her pacer. I sort of wanted to punch her pacer. It was just.. too much. But at the same time, each time she'd say, "You're doing awesome, we're almost there!" I'd pretend she was saying it to me, and I'd use it to stay strong.
Passed by a giant clump of cheerers, and got a huge boost seeing Meredith, then Mike, then Amy, all cheering crazily for me.
As we passed the mile 12 marker, I turned to the random girl beside me and said, "We can do anything for 1 mile." She sorta just glanced at me and said, "Yeah." Then she paused and let it soak in and kinda woke up and said, "Yeah! Yeah, we can!"
Turned onto San Jac and into campus. My work stompin' grounds. We were getting close, except I really didn't know where the finish line was. But I knew we were close, and I tried to push harder. I tried not to fall apart at the end. I made liberal use of an old stand-by mantra, "The faster you run, the sooner you're done."
About halfway down San Jac, someone rode by on a bike and said, "You guys are all going to finish sub-1:45!" I wasn't sure how she determined that, but it was inspiring to hear. I had no idea what that meant for the 1:45 pace group, but I was thrilled at the concept of coming in sub-1:45. I was also scared that if I didn't pick it up, I'd end up at 1:45:04 or something, and if I was going to be so close to 1:45, I wanted to be below it. So I tried to pick it up more.
Turned the corner onto MLK and a hill loomed ahead of me. Oof. But I muscled it as strong as I could, and turned onto the final road. I could see the finish line ahead. It wasn't far. I tried to pick it up. Gave it what I had left. As I got nearer, I could see the finish clock. And it said.. wait, what? It said 1:42:something. That can't be right. Oh, bloody hell, I've been AHEAD OF THE 1:45 PACE GROUP THIS WHOLE TIME?!
I was elated. I crossed the line in 1:42:24 and pumped my fist in the air. I couldn't believe it. A 6 minute PR.
Honestly, I still can't really believe it. I intended to run it as a progressive pace, like I successfully did last year. First few miles in the mid 8s, dropping to the low 8s, hoping the last few miles I could eke out some sub-8s. As I checked my Garmin after the race, my first mile, as I already knew, was an 8:20. Then the second was a 7:43. Maybe too many buildings around and my Garmin miscalculated. But then the next mile was in the 7s, too. In fact.. all my miles but 2 were sub-8. I've barely run a 5k that averaged sub-8s. Yes, it was a net downhill course, yes the weather was perfect, but still. I accomplished something I would have sworn beforehand I wasn't even vaguely capable of. And if I'd run with the 1:45 pace group, I probably wouldn't have run that fast. So thankfully I never found them.
(Oh, and my mention of seeing Tony on the course. Evidently Priscilla was behind me the whole race, but never caught up to me. I probably would have realized that she was behind me, based on Tony being there, if I'd had any brain. At one point she was close enough to see me toss my gloves, and to see me drop all my stuff on the ground, and I had no idea she was there. She finished less than a minute after me. I told her even if she'd caught up, I would have been horrible company, since I couldn't carry on a conversation at that pace.)
It's not often that I'm really genuinely 100% proud of my performance as an athlete, but this is a race I'll remember forever. I surprised and impressed myself, and that's the best thing that can happen. I have no idea what this means for New Orleans, but it does give me a little more hope.
(Edited to add: Oh, this was also a 10k PR! Results show I ran the first 10k in 48:51, 7:53 pace, and my previous 10k PR was at the 2009 IBM 10k, 49:27, 7:58 pace.)
Splits (not entirely accurate, since these are based on the Garmin saying I ran 13:21 miles, but at least it gives an idea):
8:20
7:43
7:48
7:43
7:46
7:45
7:36
7:41
7:46
8:00
7:38
7:38
7:29
last 0.21 averaged 7:44
I'm still thrilled when I bust out a sub-9 in my normal running life. So those splits are nuts. Wonderfully nuts.
Hopefully memories of this race will get me through the last 10k in NOLA.
Whereas this year my times have been all over the place and I've felt a little out of sorts with my training since Palo Duro. A week and a half before 3M I had to do a run that contained 3x2 miles at 3M goal pace. Which means I had to actually.. come up with a 3M goal pace. I decided I'd at least try to PR and see what happened. That meant I had to run sub-1:48, or sub-8:15/mile. Yikes. I haven't been throwing down many low 8s in training lately. And my 3x2 miles was all over the place.. an 8:16, an 8:06, then an 8:19 and an 8:22. In the end, it all averaged out to exactly 8:15. Not inspiring.
But I decided that was my formal goal. My informal goal was to feel good. I mean.. not "good", per se. I wanted to push myself, but I didn't want to be miserable. I wanted to enjoy it and feel good about my effort, and hopefully be satisfied with the result of said effort.
Then I had to figure out how best to achieve this goal. Last year I ran with the 1:50 group and pulled ahead of them by the end. I could do that again, just try to pull FURTHER ahead. Or I could just watch my Garmin the whole time and try to keep my pace around 8:14. Or I could just run entirely by feel, but some days my body can't tell the difference between how a 9:30 feels and how an 8:15 feels. So that made me nervous.
I bounced it off Coach Jamie, and he said to start with the 1:45 pacers, fall back a little in the first few miles (I'm not a good fast starter) but keep them in sight, catch up to them by mile 3, stay with them 3-9, then leave them behind at 9. I found his plan HIGHLY AMUSING. But evidently he was serious. So I told him I'd give it my best shot.
Race morning we were running a little behind, and got parked with about 20 minutes until race start. We got super lucky and ran by two non-race-affiliated portapotties with a very short line, and between running from car to portapotties and then portapotties to dry clothes drop-off, then from there to the start chute, I accumulated a very, very slow 8 minutes of warm-up. Not quite the 15 minutes + drills and strides that I was assigned.
The good news is, the weather was PERFECT. Low 40s, not humid, just beautiful. Well, cold, really, but only when you're standing around waiting to start. I had a very stylish plaid flannel buttondown shirt over my long-sleeve+sleeveless ensemble, that I planned to wear for the first few miles, then shed on the side of the road. But by the time I wriggled my way upstream in the start chute to the big 1:45 sign, the crowd was close enough and tall enough that I felt warm enough to shed the flannel. I was way off to the side of the chute and couldn't get in any further, but I could see the little 1:45 sign in the middle, and I was about even with it.
Race started right on time, and we trudged up toward the start line. Not far to go, though.. I think this was the closest to the start line I've ever started in a race that big.
Crossed the start line and things spread out enough that I could start running. I got settled and looked over to find the 1:45 sign so I could get closer. And I couldn't find it. Okay, no big deal. It can't be far, and I'm not supposed to be with them right at the beginning anyway. So I just settled in to warm up a bit.
It was dark and crowded, and I just weaved through the crowd, passing people and being passed, eavesdropping on groups, avoiding shed outer layers in the road, and always keeping an eye out ahead of me for the 1:45 sign.
When I passed the mile 1 marker, the clock said 8:20something, and I hadn't started too long after the race clock began, so I knew that was fairly accurate. And so it made sense that I had lost the 1:45 pacers. They had to run even 8 minute miles to hit 1:45, so with my 8:20, I was somewhere 20 seconds behind them. I tried to pick up the pace in the next mile, and kept searching the crowd ahead of me.
The first few miles were all boring industrial park, but it was so dark you couldn't really even see it, and the sunrise was beautiful. A few long, low uphills and some enthusiastic cheering from Heather&Co were the only real notable things in the first 4 miles.
Weird little loop under 183 and then onto Shoal Creek. Someone cheered my name and I saw Catherine (and dog) and thanked her for her support by peeling off my nasty, sweaty gloves and flinging them at her, except I was already past her, so she had to hoof it over to retrieve them. Thank you, Catherine. It was too warm for gloves at that point, though. It was still low 40s, but my hands were hot and my long sleeves were pushed up to my elbows.
Further down the road, it got too hot for my earband, as well. I pushed it back to expose my ears, which helped for a while, but then I needed to take it off. Meanwhile I'm carrying a little flask of water in one hand (so I could skip the first few horribly crowded aid stations), and a gu in the other hand. I freed up one hand and pulled my earband off. And heard something hit the ground behind me. Turned around and it was my sunglasses, which I'd forgotten were up there. A girl behind me very, very kindly slowed enough to pick them up and I ran back to get them from her, and put them on my face, since it had gotten bright enough to wear them. Except my earband was horribly sweaty, and that sweat was now covering my sunglasses. So then I took my sunglasses back off and tried to use my earband to clean them off, which was rather dumb, since it was my earband which got them so wet in the first place. But my attempt to juggle earband, sunglasses, flask and gu meant that I then dropped my earband in the road. I was a complete mess during this section. So I turned around AGAIN and ran back to pick it up, and a guy passed me and said, "Again?!" and I said, "I know! It's even a different thing this time!" But at least I'd gotten my sunglasses wearable, and wrapped my gross earband around my wrist. And was moving forward again.
Shortly after mile 4, I checked the time on my watch, since I planned to gu at 40 minutes. It said 36 something, so I made a note to check back soon. It so happened that I checked my watch and found it had been 40 minutes right as I was going by the mile 5 marker. I'm bad at race math, but even this was math my brain could handle then. I had averaged 8 minute miles for the first 5 miles. With an 8:20 for my first mile, that meant I had to be getting near the 1:45 pacers, even if I still couldn't see them. And also, holy shit, I'm averaging 8 minutes miles. That made me a little nervous, that I was going too fast, but I was actually so far accomplishing my goal of Feeling Good. I was running as fast as I could without breathing super hard or it feeling unsustainable. Things were good.
The whole Foster and Great Northern section is a blur. A lot of people cheered for me by name, but I will guiltily admit that in many cases, even when I looked up and smiled and thanked, I didn't see who was cheering. But thank you, people who cheered. It made a huge difference.
Back onto Shoal Creek again, still feeling good, and in familiar territory, since this was my Run To Work route. Passed my favorite portapotty at Shoal Creek and Hancock, but stomach was feeling good.
Turned onto 45th and knew I'd hopefully be passing Betsy somewhere on the uphill. Not that I'd be able to see her, since the famous 3M uphill-into-the-sun had moved from North Loop to 45th. I thought 45th was easier than North Loop, though, and just powered up the hill as comfortably as I could. As I heard Betsy cheer for me, I unwound my earband from my wrist and flung it at her and asked if she could please take that. I felt much better having lost gloves, earband, flask and gu. Unfettered. And still strong.
Almost to Duval and I passed Catherine again, and she said something about how well I was doing. I almost broke down and asked her the thing I'd wanted to ask every spectator I'd seen: Where was the 1:45 pacer? I felt like they must be right ahead of me, but I couldn't catch them. But I was afraid they'd say they passed 3 minutes ago, and I couldn't make up that deficit. I decided ignorance was bliss.
(Right after that, I also passed by a cheering Tony, which I note only for later reference.)
Turned onto Duval, back on the traditional 3M course. I still felt good. I tried to take the second gu I had pinned to my shorts, but was reminded that, even though I was sweating and wished I were wearing less clothes, it was still in the 40s out there, because my gu was practically solid. Choked down maybe half of it and threw the rest out at an aid station.
I was in a solid group of similarly-paced people, and I used their energy to keep me going. There was a pair of girls running right next to me for the last 3 miles. One was obviously pacing the other, and the one being paced was obviously struggling a bit, because the pacer kept offering encouragement. A lot of it. Constantly. And the pacee was wearing headphones and never said a single word in return. I think maybe she wanted to punch her pacer. I sort of wanted to punch her pacer. It was just.. too much. But at the same time, each time she'd say, "You're doing awesome, we're almost there!" I'd pretend she was saying it to me, and I'd use it to stay strong.
Passed by a giant clump of cheerers, and got a huge boost seeing Meredith, then Mike, then Amy, all cheering crazily for me.
As we passed the mile 12 marker, I turned to the random girl beside me and said, "We can do anything for 1 mile." She sorta just glanced at me and said, "Yeah." Then she paused and let it soak in and kinda woke up and said, "Yeah! Yeah, we can!"
Turned onto San Jac and into campus. My work stompin' grounds. We were getting close, except I really didn't know where the finish line was. But I knew we were close, and I tried to push harder. I tried not to fall apart at the end. I made liberal use of an old stand-by mantra, "The faster you run, the sooner you're done."
About halfway down San Jac, someone rode by on a bike and said, "You guys are all going to finish sub-1:45!" I wasn't sure how she determined that, but it was inspiring to hear. I had no idea what that meant for the 1:45 pace group, but I was thrilled at the concept of coming in sub-1:45. I was also scared that if I didn't pick it up, I'd end up at 1:45:04 or something, and if I was going to be so close to 1:45, I wanted to be below it. So I tried to pick it up more.
Turned the corner onto MLK and a hill loomed ahead of me. Oof. But I muscled it as strong as I could, and turned onto the final road. I could see the finish line ahead. It wasn't far. I tried to pick it up. Gave it what I had left. As I got nearer, I could see the finish clock. And it said.. wait, what? It said 1:42:something. That can't be right. Oh, bloody hell, I've been AHEAD OF THE 1:45 PACE GROUP THIS WHOLE TIME?!
I was elated. I crossed the line in 1:42:24 and pumped my fist in the air. I couldn't believe it. A 6 minute PR.
Honestly, I still can't really believe it. I intended to run it as a progressive pace, like I successfully did last year. First few miles in the mid 8s, dropping to the low 8s, hoping the last few miles I could eke out some sub-8s. As I checked my Garmin after the race, my first mile, as I already knew, was an 8:20. Then the second was a 7:43. Maybe too many buildings around and my Garmin miscalculated. But then the next mile was in the 7s, too. In fact.. all my miles but 2 were sub-8. I've barely run a 5k that averaged sub-8s. Yes, it was a net downhill course, yes the weather was perfect, but still. I accomplished something I would have sworn beforehand I wasn't even vaguely capable of. And if I'd run with the 1:45 pace group, I probably wouldn't have run that fast. So thankfully I never found them.
(Oh, and my mention of seeing Tony on the course. Evidently Priscilla was behind me the whole race, but never caught up to me. I probably would have realized that she was behind me, based on Tony being there, if I'd had any brain. At one point she was close enough to see me toss my gloves, and to see me drop all my stuff on the ground, and I had no idea she was there. She finished less than a minute after me. I told her even if she'd caught up, I would have been horrible company, since I couldn't carry on a conversation at that pace.)
It's not often that I'm really genuinely 100% proud of my performance as an athlete, but this is a race I'll remember forever. I surprised and impressed myself, and that's the best thing that can happen. I have no idea what this means for New Orleans, but it does give me a little more hope.
(Edited to add: Oh, this was also a 10k PR! Results show I ran the first 10k in 48:51, 7:53 pace, and my previous 10k PR was at the 2009 IBM 10k, 49:27, 7:58 pace.)
Splits (not entirely accurate, since these are based on the Garmin saying I ran 13:21 miles, but at least it gives an idea):
8:20
7:43
7:48
7:43
7:46
7:45
7:36
7:41
7:46
8:00
7:38
7:38
7:29
last 0.21 averaged 7:44
I'm still thrilled when I bust out a sub-9 in my normal running life. So those splits are nuts. Wonderfully nuts.
Hopefully memories of this race will get me through the last 10k in NOLA.