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November 2017 training recap & pre-CIM thoughts

November 2017 training recap & pre-CIM thoughts

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Well, that month came and went rather quickly. Between all the usual obligations and general “life stuff” that peppered the month of November — in addition to Thanksgiving break (a week long! An entire WEEK!); conference week (a week+ of shortened school days to allow the teachers to meet with parents in the early afternoon hours); and other one-off events — this month came and went, I ran a couple races, I finished the thick of my CIM training, and now we’re just a couple days out from The Big Day.

Admittedly, as I talked about in previous months’ entries, this quarter has been pretty tough. Fortunately, by the time November came (and went), a lot of the stressors began to diminish a bit: namely, my husband continued to recover from surgery, and the dust at school from A’s teacher quitting began to settle. I had mentioned in my October recap that I had felt pretty knackered but had basically attributed it to life and everything that was going on. Well, long story short, the “extreme fatigue” seemed to be sticking around. A call to my endocrinologist (whom I see yearly for a diagnosed thyroid issue) about it led to testing my TSH — all normal — which made her suggest that I take a pregnancy test. I’ve been pregnant twice, and I know pregnancy tired, and I knew this wasn’t that (plus those minor my husband just had abdominal surgery and I have a semi-permanent birth control details).

a super fancy Thanksgiving morning picture post-run

At any rate — long story short — a routine test as part of my annual physical with my GP revealed that my liver was, as we say, seemingly fucked. My liver enzyme levels were through-the-roof horrible (like, 5 times what they should have been); it looked like there was something — some thing — on my liver; and if I were a) obese and/or b) a heavy drinker, all of this would make sense … but I’m not … so it didn’t. (For reference: the last alcoholic drink I had was a single mimosa. In October. Of last year).

Fast forward through the month of November, which included:

  • another set of bloodwork;
  • going off my colitis medicine (with the thinking that it might be contributing to the liver inflammation/enlargement and other stuff) but then
    • subsequently having to deal with the fun realities that come when you have colitis but aren’t medicated for it (read: lots of QT with my bathroom and/or the great outdoors, in emergency situations, mid-run, which is always a great experience and a fantastic way to meet strangers (mortified beyond mortified));
  • an ultrasound;
  • a CT scan;
  • more bloodwork;
  • and an MRI.

I’m still waiting for the final diagnosis (diagnoses? maybe?) to put all this to bed — and did I mention we’re switching insurance in the new year, and I’ll have to find a new GI to help manage this mess? — but it seems like we’re almost out of the woods with all of this stuff. I can’t do a happy dance quite yet, but I feel like I can at least get into position. I didn’t dare Google anything that my doctor said or what the radiologists’ reports indicated because I’d surely learn that my death was imminent, but let me assure you: all of this stuff was scary shit. I am so grateful to a) have insurance; b) have a doctor who listens to my concerns; c) have gotten a physical that caught this in the first place (moral: get your yearly physical, people! And when something seems “off,” listen to your body and call a real-life professional instead of trying to fix it yourself with remedies that aren’t scientific and are deleterious to your health, at best); and d) that my sister is a real-life medical professional who talked me off the ledge and helped me make sense of everything.

sister sister. she’s the best.

I’m not a medical professional, but here’s a quick and dirty lesson about your liver. It’s important. When it’s not working as it should, that’s a problem.

All of that said, there for a while, I wasn’t even sure that CIM would come to fruition. A lot of my runs this training cycle have been okay, meh, or kinda flat, and the fatigue was pretty killer; one of the liver’s many functions is to do the detoxing in your body — the real kind, not the “I’m gonna go on a juice cleanse to detoxify my body” kind. (Sidenote: again, another quick and dirty biology lesson. Your liver and your kidneys are your built-in detoxing buddies. If you hear that you need to “cleanse” or “detox” for some reason [barring something that’d actually warrant detoxing, like drug abuse], assume that the person doling out that advice just wants your money, and do yourself a favor and go set your money on fire. Either one suffices because they achieve the same end result. There’s no scientific merit to the idea of “detoxing” diets, cleanses, anything, unless — of course — you’ve been abusing drugs. Huge pet peeve of mine. Anyway).  My GP and GI both seemed to think that all that crazy fatigue I had been feeling could be attributable to my liver’s subpar status in that it was incapable of fully or adequately doing its job. It was even as late as the Clarksburg half — mid-November — that I was fairly torn about whether running, much less trying to race, CIM was a good idea (and conversations with my doctor informed me that me running or training wouldn’t exacerbate anything; provided I wanted to run and wasn’t having horrible unmedicated colitis-related issues, I could run my little heart out).

Clarksburg-ing. (PC: Lisa)

 

As we rolled through November and the final handful of weeks of training — running Clarksburg and XC Champs, doing the last hard workouts, getting race ready with more GMP-focused stuff, and running a little lower mileage than usual (about 190 for the month, my lowest all year) but with specific and deliberate intensity —  eventually — fortunately — things have seemed to begin to turn around. As of a few days ago, anyway, my labs on my liver seem to be indicating the same.

XC champs-ing (PC: Wolfpack Running Club)

A note about CIM training, generally speaking: when I first decided that I’d race CIM, I had just come off racing the SF Marathon in late July and then pacing the 3:33 group at Santa Rosa a month later, so I knew I didn’t need to start from scratch with my training. I decided to try something new and enlisted the help of Lisa — gracious and humble human being; devoted Wolfpack wonder leader extraordinaire; and badass and fast runner — to coach me. I hadn’t been coached since I did this stuff for the first time, back in 2007 with Team in Training in Chicago, so it has been a lot of fun to work under someone for once and not be the one calling all the shots all the time. Working with a coach this time around has meant “doing running” differently — different workouts, different mileage volume and intensity, different everything — and honestly, it has been great. I have hesitated to work with a coach because my running is so varied all the time — between running with my kids; pushing a stroller more often than not; run-commuting 1.5 miles, four times a day, four days a week, most weeks; racing fairly frequently, be it roads or XC; or needing/wanting to have the freedom to mix in trails with roads basically whenever I want — that I have more or less thought of myself as fairly uncoachable at this time in my life. I’m super fortunate to have had the opportunity to work under Lisa because she gets it in the broad sense, and more specifically, she understands my running and how it can (or can’t) look right now for me. It’s a relationship that I plan to continue, and I’m grateful that Lisa has gotten me to the starting line on Sunday ready to rumble (bizarre liver issues be damned).

she’s great. (PC: who knows)

I’m totally stoked and honored to toe the line at my 31st marathon on Sunday morning. Marathons are tough as hell, obviously, and I could have a fantastic day, a horrible day, or something in between, regardless of what time I end up posting.

Spoiler: it will be fantastic.

from Sunday morning with Janet and Saurabh in Alum Rock. That sky!!! (PC: Janet)

—-

 

Reading: You Are a Badass (eh) for Lindsey’s podcast’s book club; Kevin Hart’s Book (I Can’t Make This Up), also eh but actually fairly funny and moderately inspiring; and I’m partially through Elizabeth Warren’s book and Hillary Clinton’s book (both very good and highly recommended, especially HRC’s). Oh, and this is a great CIM-related read. Hat-tip to Mario for sharing that gem.

Listening, Watching: I should just omit this stuff because I’m a horrible consumer of entertainment and am basically eons behind the rest of humanity. How awesome was the NYC Marathon though?!!?!

Enjoying: So much in November, including our ten-year wedding anniversary, my birthday, and my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. Oh, and this tea. (Not an affiliate link or anything; I had it for the first time on the Hoka trip and have been hooked ever since. I asked for some for my birthday because I’m weird and ask for tea for my birthday every single year).  

 

It’s CIM time, baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2017 USATF PA Clarksburg Country Run half marathon race report – Clarksburg, CA

2017 USATF PA Clarksburg Country Run half marathon race report – Clarksburg, CA

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One of the remaining road races on the 2017 PA USATF circuit was the Clarksburg Country Run Half Marathon, a good two+ hour drive from San Jose, and not coincidentally, its timing aligned pretty perfectly with CIM training (three weeks out). My plan was to run the half and use it as some sort of assessment tool in advance of CIM, but life — as it often does — had other plans.

I’ll save the details for another time, but coming into Clarksburg, I felt like I had a lot on my plate and was carrying a lot of bodily stress, for lack of a better term. I’m not injured, nor am I dying, but I had some less-than-desirable results come back from my annual physical that subsequently have created an onslaught of additional follow-up tests. It’s probably nothing, but I’m letting the medical professionals make that diagnosis, not me. It’s scary and a little unnerving, but I’m trying to not get too far ahead of myself.

More than anything, I’ve felt pretty knackered during this marathon training cycle, so my goals and expectations for Clarksburg were minimal. My Clarksburg goal was to get in a solid, supported long run and just to do the best I could on the day. Oh, and historically speaking, half marathons in the thick of marathon training are torturous for me. More often than not, my GI goes to shit (literally); I’m sufficiently whipped from training that I can’t do much better than GMP, if I’m lucky; or some other stupid variable pops up that throws things awry. Since moving to California nearly four years ago, I can think of two half marathons that I’ve run where more things went well than wrong. Half marathons are like a wicked Achilles for me.

Come race morning, I carpooled up north with Lisa (who wasn’t running, as she had just totally rocked NYC the week before) and three of my other teammates, Oscar, Jeff, and Greg. I’d be the only female Wolfpack harrier racing that day, and those guys, plus Tony, Ray, and Mark, would comprise a full male team for us. I overslept my alarm but had luckily woken up with just enough time to get ready — I had just hosted a sleepover for 10 of my first-grade Daisies the night before, so it’s no surprise I slept so deeply Saturday night — and once we got to Clarksburg, it was like we were in a different era: think super small town USA. In one block, I think we passed the town’s elementary school, post office, library, middle school, and high school. 

The race featured other distances as well — a 20 miler (which many people training for CIM, who weren’t racing the half, often do), a kids’ run, and a 5k and 10k. It was a “California crisp” morning — maybe about 40 degrees when we got there to warm-up — and the temps were what you dream of during the hot summer months: a little cool just to be milling around outside but just perfect for running and racing. My teammates and I easily got our bibs, and before too long, Lisa and I set out for a 2 mile warm-up, where we talked strategy, goals, the course, and the like. Running into Jess and Chris — both doing 20 — was a nice bonus.

shamelessly stolen from Chris’ IG. friend, you’ve got something on your face!

As the “Country Run” part of its name suggests, Clarksburg really is a run through the flat countrysides; that’s an accurate race title if there ever were one. There’s not much on either side of the roads you run, save for a winery, a farm, or an open field. The half’s topography was fairly pancake flat, and the course itself was pretty straightforward with just a couple OABs. Each distance started at different times, too, which was a smart way to alleviate potential congestion. As I was finishing my cool-down, I ran into Robin, who was there with a slew of her Impala teammates, all doing the half that morning in prep for CIM. It was wonderful to see her (always is) and to talk about what we wanted to do that day, how we were feeling about our CIM training, and to otherwise talk shop for a bit. Before too long, we were off.

My initial plan was to conservatively begin around 7:15s/7:20s for the first 4 or so miles and then begin to cut down and get closer to HM pace, somewhere in the low 7s or 6:50s. I felt pretty well the first three or four miles and was hitting the prescribed paces fairly well — and chatting with the other Impalas and other runners around me — but as early as mile five, I could tell that things were going to head south; I just knew. Feeling pretty poorly that early in a half marathon kinda (really) sucks, so instead of wallowing, I switched my watchface to show the time of day and decided to run purely on feel for the remainder of the race. Truth be told, when I’m training — and often even during races — I rarely look at my watch (and infrequently see my splits), but I had convinced myself that symbolically (and literally) switching my focus would help me stay out of my head for the next eight miles. I could choose to be pissy and wallow in I can’t hold 7:teens, much less drop down to 7-flats or 6:50s for the next 8 miles, or I could flip my perspective and focus on running as evenly and smoothly as possible, despite feeling pretty sub-par. The rest of the race became less a pity party and more of a game.

LOL at thinking I had managed to sidestep my way out of the team pic mid-run. This was around 3 or 4, IIRC. (PC: Impala Racing IG)

 

somewhere in the first 5 miles, I think. (PC: Lisa)

 

Clarksburg treated us to a beautiful, autumn morning, and the few times I saw my teammates on the OABs, I felt totally inspired by their energy and effort. Somewhere on course, as we changed directions, it felt like we began running into wind tunnel — no doubt exacerbated by my already not feeling great — and I tried to hang near other (taller) runners, again more for the mental game than anything else. By about mile 8 or so, Robin caught up to me, and we had a good time bemoaning the state of our races going less than desirably and running’s general mercurial nature. Together we cheered for our teammates as we approached them on the OABs, and I tried to hang with her as long as possible. By about mile 9, though, my good ol’ stomach was sending me an SOS, so I began to hang back in search of a safe place to drop trou. Like I said, HMs seem to wreak havoc on my GI — and no doubt, being at a sleepover the night/day before and eating stuff outside my usual food repertoire, and being off my colitis medicine for a week-plus because of the aforementioned health issues all didn’t help my case much — but luckily, I was able to quickly get in and out of a porta-potty around mile 10 or 11 and only lose about 70 seconds in the process. I am nothing if not efficient.

somewhere before mile 8; that’s Robin right behind me. (PC: Lisa)

 

smiling and trying to enjoy the ride. even when it doesn’t feel great, we can always smile because we get — not have — to do this stuff. (PC: Lisa)

It’s pretty disappointing to be so close to the finish line (relatively speaking) and have to stop, but when it comes down to either shitting myself or losing time (in a race where nothing is on the line but my pride), I, uh, yeah. I’m gonna spare myself that indignity if I can help it. The good news is that while I still felt pretty knackered, I felt a lot better (understandably!), so I tried to finish the last two miles as strongly as I could and tried to pick people off until the very end. I hadn’t been clock-watching at all the whole race, but I figured that I’d be pretty close to a 1:40 and wanted to try to sneak in under that. Mission accomplished: 1:39:11.

It’s hard not to be disappointed when shit happens (literally, figuratively, whatevs) in races, but it’s part of the game. Every day isn’t going to yield a PR, life-changing performance, and expecting otherwise will set you up to be enormously saddened (or angered) more often than not. I ran a slow-for-me half marathon, but FFS, I still just ran a half marathon for the fun of it, not because anyone was forcing me to, or because it was going to pay my mortgage, or anything like that. I did it because I could, because I wanted to help my team, and because it’s fun, even when it’s not. I’m grateful to be able to do this stuff at all, and I don’t lose sight of that. Sometimes running/racing is great. Other times, it sucks. It’s part of the process. 

with Lisa, captain awesome. fitting that I’m standing near my friends, the outdoor toilets.

By the time everything was said and done, it was a 17-mile day (2 warm-up, 2 cool-down) and a fun morning with my teammates. It was awesome to have Lisa out biking and cheering for us and to celebrate my teammates’ performances, including Greg, who had run his first half ever. The race gave a big post-race spread (none of which appealed to me, unfortunately; it takes me a while to warm-up to food after racing or hard efforts), and soon enough, we were on the road again back to the Bay Area.

the harriers at Clarksburg. L-R that’s Greg, Oscar, Lisa, Tony, and Ray (PC: Wolfpack Running Club IG)

If you’re in the market for a flat and fast half, Clarksburg is an excellent option. The aid stations are about every two miles and are well-supported, and if you’re in the throes of CIM training, the timing of the race really couldn’t be better. Alternatively, if you want longer (20) or shorter distances (5k, 10k, kids’ race), the race can help you out there, too. It doesn’t offer much in the way of crowds or scenery — you’re running through a pretty rural area — but if you enjoy quiet, distraction-free running, it’d be an excellent match. My race wasn’t what I wanted it to be, but I still had a good experience and would recommend it.

And with that, we inch ever-closer to CIM.