training for race – A Mama's Blog

Second Place- A Year After Cancer

On July 22, I ran in my first competitive division race in Boulder. It was a 3K race sprint which was 1.87 miles. It was definitely a different experience from what I am used to. To start off, the race said it started at six, but there was a kid’s race, and then a downpour of rain with wind and lightning that delayed the race for about 20 minutes. Then there was the non-competitive division race. It was almost seven when it was time for my wave to run.

I actually lined up in the non-competitive division for a few minutes, before I realized that wasn’t my wave this time. It was weird when the announcer said if you are an elite runner, make sure you aren’t lined up in that wave. I don’t think of myself as an elite runner, and I had kind of a mental moment, where I was wondering if I should really be running in a competitive division. I’ll admit for a few seconds, I thought about just running in the non-competitive division.

But I told myself I had trained for this, and I was going to do it. Walking out of the non-competitive wave, and waiting some more for the competitive female division was hard. I trusted all of this on the work I had done. The waiting around was difficult. It allowed me too much time to keep thinking and second guessing myself. Since the race was on a weekday in the early evening, no one I knew could make it to the race. I’m pretty independent, but it was hard to wait around for that long by myself.

I went and warmed up and tried to get myself into a better mental frame of mind. When it was finally time to line up, I felt good. I felt like I belonged right where I was. The only thing that was worrying me was the weather. The sun had come out after the rain, but it was incredibly humid. We don’t have much humidity in Colorado, and I have never trained in it. I wasn’t sure if it would affect my running.

As the race started, I started off strong. It was neat seeing so many people lined up in the streets watching. They were cheering everyone on, and were shouting encouraging words at us. I was able to run a good half mile in the six minute range, and then the humidity hit me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t take in deep breaths. I had to slow down, so I could breathe.

There was a pretty steep hill we had to run up twice- the course was two loops. After I ran up the hill the first time, I couldn’t breathe, and I felt so tired. I wasn’t getting the oxygen I needed to run. I felt like I was running in a steam room. I slowed down a bit more, but it wasn’t helping. I felt so frustrated, but knew I wasn’t going to be able to finish if I couldn’t breathe. So I did something I have never done in a race before. I stopped running and walked a few paces, breathing as deep as I could. I probably didn’t walk more than five seconds, but it felt like an eternity. A few people passed me, and I hated that. But I decided even if I finished in last place, I was going to finish.

I started running again and right before I reached the half-way mark, there was a woman on the street clapping. She looked right at me and told me I was doing great, and to keep going. I waved at her, and for some reason, that really gave me a lift. I had resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to have my best time, or even place (which I was shooting for, but not expecting), so all I could do is run and finish. I told myself running up the hill again, even if I was last, this was a competitive division and I had come so far in not even a year, to even be running in this race.

I started running downhill faster, and could see the finish line ahead. I could hear footsteps behind me, and I was determined to not let anyone else pass me. The humidity was still a factor, and I was still struggling with the deeper breaths. People were cheering and clapping and I just gave it my all as I saw the finish line get closer and closer. When I finally crossed, the clock said 14:40. I stopped my Garmin and it also said 14:40.

I was surprised at the time. It was a personal record for me running the distance outside. I had run it faster in the air conditioned gym, with no hills on the treadmill, a few weeks before. But this was 30 seconds faster than I had ever ran it outside. There weren’t that many people behind me, and I knew I had finished towards the last quarter or so of people. Even with having to walk, I has still achieved a personal best.

I found some water dumped it over my head. I was so hot and tired. I was still trying to catch my breath. Some of the other ladies I had run with were also talking about the humidity. It seemed like it was a factor for a lot of people.

I cooled down and then watched the men’s elite division run. They were lightning fast. The announcer said there were a few Olympic runners running in this race and you could tell. The first man hit the half way point just over 4 minutes! It was fun watching them all finish, and the winning time was just under 9 minutes!

I have a lot of respect for how hard everyone worked to finish this race- not just the competitive runners, but everyone. It definitely is a hard distance when you are trying to run fast. It tests you. Under two miles doesn’t sound very far, but when you are running as fast as you can, and pushing yourself, your body hurts, your lungs hurt, and you have to dig down to keep strong. I have never wanted to quit a race, but I wanted to quit this one. I remember telling myself after this race I was done running- this sucked! I had to fight myself mentally to stay in it.

When it was time leave, I walked by the announcer’s booth and he said the race results would be on-line the next day. But I saw a few people with race result papers. I walked over and asked if I could see the results. The guy said they were the competitive results, and told him that was what I ran in. He gave me the paper, and as I found my age group and my name, I was shocked. It said I had finished in second place for my age group. I looked at it again, and asked him if these were official results. He said they were. The 14:40 was the official time, and I placed second!

I still can’t really describe how I felt. It seemed unreal- from where I was physically and health-wise a year ago- I was a cancer patient, to placing second in my first competitive division race, and getting personal best time too. In Boulder of all places- a town known for its die-hard and excellent runners.

I went to a party afterwards my friend was having and she snapped this picture of me with my race number. I had good feeling when I saw the number. 🙂

I was on cloud nine for a few days afterwards. I thought a lot about cancer, recovery, running, and all the support my family and friends have given me during this past year. I thank all of you for that.

And to all the cancer patients and survivors who read my blog, in that last quarter mile when I wanted to quit, I thought about all the e-mails I have received from you all. I thought about how hard every cancer patient has to fight and how it changes our lives. I thought about how inspired I am by your stories and how hard some of you have to fight. One thing cancer patients know how to do is fight, and not quit. I thought about how I would feel if I had to write on my blog I quit the race. That provided me that extra motivation to keep running until I crossed that finish line.

Running and cancer have taught me over the last year, when I am at my limit and feel like I can’t go another step or day, I can. They have taught me the greatest rewards come from the hardest trials. If you believe and are true to yourself, you will accomplish what you thought impossible. And never give up. Every step you run (or walk), is a step closer to the finish line, and every day you fight through cancer is another day you are closer to beating it, or a cure being found.

This race was the hardest race I have ever ran in, but also the race where I had the greatest success. I am very glad I challenged myself by running in it. It will serve me well for my next running goal, which I am very excited for, and I will be writing about it in an upcoming post.

Second place. I still smile when I think about it.

Official Results

Time: 14:40

Division Place: 2nd

Overall Place: 19th out of 24 finishers

Average Pace: 7:49

Extreme Race Training- Part 2

My dad and I started off for Vail Saturday morning. We got to the trail head for Gore Lake by late morning. It was already 90+ degrees. We were going to try to get about a mile away from the lake, spend the night, hike to the lake on Sunday morning, and then head back. We both are pretty good hikers, so this didn’t seem overly ambitious. My dad had hiked this before, and had done just fine. Except it had been in the fall, when it had been much cooler.

The hike started out right away uphill- there was no shade, and there were a ton of rocks. I could feel the heat from the rocks radiating back on to the trail- and on to us. It felt like I was in an oven baking. I’ve never weighed my backpack, but it is probably about 20-25 pounds. My dad’s is heavier, and it seemed like after that first climb, we were both already tired. In hindsight that should have been a clue- it was too hot. Here is a picture of me with some wildflowers- about a mile into the hike. It was one of the few places along the trail with shade.

We kept hiking, and it just seemed to get hotter and hotter. There was no breeze either. The sun was so intense, and the air was hot, heavy, and humid. I commented to my dad, it felt like we were in a jungle. We had already drank our water, and we stopped so we could filter some more from the river. We took off our backpacks, and my shirt was soaked. It was like I had just taken it out of the washer.

We drank some more water, and my dad said it wasn’t too much farther to a meadow where we could stop for the day. There were not any other places to stop and camp- it was all pretty steep terrain, so we figured we could go until we got to the meadow.

We hiked another mile- in the heat and sun, and there was no meadow. I felt exhausted. It was hard to think, and it was just so hot. I told my dad the bike ride the day before had seemed easy compared to how I was feeling on this hike. My dad said he was getting some cramps in his legs, and he couldn’t quite remember how much further it was to the meadow. I had my dad drink the rest of the water we had until we could get close to the creek again. My dad got the map out, and it looked like we were really close to where this meadow was supposed to be. We had hiked 4 miles. My dad said the cramps in his legs were going away, and now we had to find some more water, so we kept going.

We came out of the bend we were in, and below us was the creek, and what looked like some places where we could stop. I told my dad I was done- I didn’t care about the meadow- I just wanted to stop for the day, and he agreed. We hiked another half mile or so down, and stopped at the creek to get some more water. I started shivering- even though it was still hot and sunny out. I had just read about heat exhaustion, and remembered some of the symptoms were chills and muscle cramps.

We couldn’t seem to drink enough water, and we were dehydrated. My dad decided to go scout around and see if there was any place we could camp- we were in a marshy grassy field- the ground was all swampy. So I stayed with our gear and drank more water. I was sitting with my shoes and socks off, my lightweight jacket on, shivering, but also very hot. I was also exhausted. I was fighting not falling asleep. It was the weirdest feeling. Here’s a picture I took of the creek:

My dad returned half an hour later, and said he had found a great camping spot. It was a quarter mile away, in trees-which meant shade. It was right near the creek too, so we’d have water. If could have ran, I would have but I suddenly felt beyond exhausted. My chills had stopped though, and my dad didn’t have any more cramping. We made it over to the campsite and it was gorgeous! It overlooked the creek, and there was a small waterfall.

We put up the tent, and drank some more water. I told my dad I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more, and was going to lie down. He said he was feeling better, and he’d get things organized. I was asleep it seemed the moment I laid down. I woke up an hour later, and we ate dinner. I was still exhausted and decided to go to bed. I think it was around 8PM. I haven’t gone to bed that early since I was a kid.

I woke up around 2AM, and got out of the tent and looked at the stars. It was clear, cool, and with the sound of the creek right behind me, it was so pretty, calm, and peaceful. I was feeling better, but knew we both had some heat exhaustion.

We woke up early, ate breakfast, and started to pack up. It was actually cool and it felt so nice after the previous day. I took this picture of my dad:

We started back- right back into the sun which was already hot. We didn’t make the same mistake twice though. We stopped every 15 minutes and drank a little bit of water. We passed a few hikers who had said it had been 104 in Denver the day before and it had reached 95 in Vail. The sun is so much more intense at the altitude we were at- it was no wonder we had difficulties.

The last mile of the hike back was killer. We had finished our water, and we were up too steep to get to the creek. The first half mile was all up hill. There was no shade at all, the sun was blazing, and it was all rocks to our side- holding and reflecting the heat back on us. That last mile seemed like 10. My shirt was dripping with sweat and the heat was so thick and heavy. For a few minutes, I really wondered if I could keep going. It was physically the hardest thing I have ever done, to keep putting my feet in front of each other to keep moving.

I looked at my Garmin, which said we had about half a mile to go, and then the Garmin died. I don’t really remember what happened next, except, we finally were off the trail, and made it back to the car! I don’t think I have ever been so happy a backpacking trip was over.

My dad looked as exhausted as I felt. We stopped and got some food, water, and some chocolate milk before driving back to Denver. When we got back, we were both feeling much better, but still drained. It took me until Tuesday night to really feel better.

It was kind of nerve wracking how fast the heat exhaustion happened. My dad and I are both pretty cautious hikers- we don’t take a lot of chances, but we clearly shouldn’t have hiked that far with it being so hot out. I’m just glad we were near water most of the time and were able to recover quickly. My dad said it best- the next time it is 90+ degrees in the mountains he’s not going hiking- he’s going to the pool.

The last few days I have thought about my race, and the workouts I’ve done. I won’t know until tonight if the heat exhaustion will factor into my running, but I don’t think it will. If anything, I believe it has given me more confidence and a mental edge.

I was preparing for this race as being very difficult, but after this past week, it doesn’t seem like it will be as challenging. I’ve trained extremely hard for this race. I was talking to one of my friends this week about the race and training and he asked me why I push myself so hard. During the bike ride up the hills, and on that God-awful hot hike, I kept thinking one thing: last year at this time, I was so sick some days I could not get out of bed. I told my friend it is hard, but it is also a gift. I push myself because I can.

Tonight I’m pushing myself with running. Some people have told me I’m crazy (in a good way) for running a sprinting race in July in the heat! 🙂 But it reminds me I can. When I line up at the start line, when I hit the half way mark, and when I cross the finish line, in my first competitve race, it’s because I can.