Race #7: The Second Time I Ran The Famous Potato Half Marathon

Awww! Am I really going to do this AGAIN?

   After running the Salt Lake City (half) Marathon a month ago, I knew I needed to have a great run this last weekend at the Famous Potato (half) Marathon.  I was really hoping to get in some great speed training and a few long runs to help me get my confidence back before tackling the half distance again. Then, life got in the way. Between rained out long runs, long runs cut short by family obligations, and bad shorter runs, I was terrified about my race prospects going into Saturday. Then, like life didn't believe I was worried enough, I got a migraine Friday night. Yep, that is what I needed. But I was also determined that I would do this no matter what. So I still showed up, after migraine headache in tow, to the buses Saturday.

More runner gone wild!

Mark, Darren, and I waiting for the start.

   While riding to the start line Mark asked me how I was feeling about the race. I actually said "Well, I have to do it now. The car is back at the finish!" We talked about our time goals and Mark promised me that if I got 2:45 or under, he would shave off his beard. It was all the inspiration I needed to decided I needed to push it as hard as I could. But, I knew it wouldn't be easy. The weather was going to he in the low 80's. That is pretty hot for this time of year. And I still had a headache. This was going to be a challenge.

   When we got to the top, I met 2 nice women who were running the marathon and we chatted about racing and different races worth visiting in the Utah/Idaho/Washington area. They were so nice about my running goals and gave me lots of encouragement. At the top, I also found my brother, Darren, who was running his first ever half marathon. He is a speed demon who ran in high school and while in the military who was coming back the the sport. I was so excited for him! This is a great race to get his feet wet with, so I knew he was going to do awesome.  

   The race started 10 minutes late, and I could feel my head getting worse, but the race energy got to me and I was ready to go when the time came. I always start in the middle to back part of the start and have to push my way around walkers, who for some reason, always line up near the front. Mark and I ran together for the first tiny bit. Then Darren caught up to me and we ran for a minute together before his long strides left me in the dust. I found a nice pace and tried to keep myself from running too fast at the first. This is the only somewhat downhill of the race and I knew I needed to have a good run then to pad my time for the 9 flat miles, but I also didn't want to burn out, so I found a good pace and kept at that. 

   I ran the first 3 miles straight, then decided to run 7/1 intervals so that I would have the energy to push through after mile 10 came. That is usually when I fall apart and need all the help I can get to finish. I checked my time and realized I had been running 10:30 miles, a lot faster than I probably should have been, but I was making great time! I also ran back into my two new marathoner friends and, since they were hoping for a 5:15 finish, I knew they were going the pace I should to get a 2:30-2:45 time, so I started pacing with them. One of them also lost her first born, so we talked about hoe running helped with loss, death and spirituality, and our precious daughters. Miles flew by and before I knew it we were at the mile 7 watering station. I knew I had to eat some fig bars or I was going to die at that point, so they ran on while I ate and walked an extra minute. I kept them in my view for another mile, but then my darn body started rebelling.

   I was given the tip to drink half a Five Hour Energy before the race and the other half half way through the race. So that is what I did. It actually did help my headache stay manageable, which was good. But between the heat, the drink, and a post migraine tummy, I started having tummy problems. I stopped at the mile 8 honey buckets, and waited 3 minutes to get in, but I knew I didn't have the time to keep waiting, so I set off again. I was good until almost mile 10 where I had to walk to the next aid station where the next bathroom was. All together I lost 6 minutes because my tummy was acting up.

   But I headed out and tried to keep up my 7/1 intervals, but I started falling apart. Unlike past races, I was unwilling to allow this race to break me, so I decided to run 3/1 intervals. This was actually a really good pace for me. I recovered just enough in those one minute walks to run even faster than I was able to go during my 7/1 intervals. And I knew that I was going to be cutting it close to my 2:45 time, but was probably not going to make it because of my 6 minutes of pit stops. But, I was going to run hard and try to get there. At the mile 11 watering station I ran into my niece and sister-in-law who were nice enough to volunteer for the race. After the necessary quick pictures, I headed off hoping to stay strong until the end.

Liz (one of my beautiful nieces) and I at mile 11. 

Karrie (my sister-in-law) and I at mile 11.

   I had been running with about 6 women since my mile 10 pit stop and our intervals were just off from each other. They would run and pass me, then I would run and pass them. Just after mile 12 I decided to really challenge myself and get ahead of 4 of them who were running as a group during my next running interval. Isabel must have liked the plan and played Pharrell's Happy for me. There is something about that song. No matter how tired I am, I just have to run my heart out to that song. So that is what I did. I passed them and didn't see them again until after the finish line. 

   Just before mile 13, the course goes over a bridge into Ann Morrison Park and at the bottom of the bridge was my brother Darren and the rest of his kids there to cheer me on. They may not have known it, but it was EXACTLY what I needed at the time. I was starting to fade and I was praying I wouldn't throw up. I just had to keep it together for .2 miles. I knew I was almost there and tried running a little faster. FINALLY, I turned the corner to see the fishiness and race clock and just about lost it. I saw 2:58:something. WHAT? How did I lose THAT much time? I slowed down and almost walked when I saw the clock click to 2:51:00. AWWWW! I was going to beat my 2:56 time! It was then I saw Mark screaming for me to run hard for a PR. I sprinted up and got a 2:51:25 finish (I think that is the official time. The website has also said 2:50:something. It has changed a couple of times). I was actually pretty happy with that.

Selfie with the medal.

We finished!

   The course is a mostly flat course. There are a few little hills and some decline at the first, but for the most part, you better be ready to be the driving force for the race. It can get boring running a flat course and Mark really struggled with it this year. The heat was pretty bad too. But the race is so well organized and cheap, we can't help but so it again and again. I really love this race.

Mark showing his last two race medals to Isabel.

Showing my medal to Isabel.

Throwback Thursday: The Second Time I Was Pregnant.

Addison's first photo shot. I love this shot, I pictured her doing this every time something scary would happen in my pregnancy.

   After the passing of Isabel, Mark and I were not thinking straight and thought that if we were blessed to have another baby, it would be okay. I struggled with infertility before Isabel and our doctor thought we would probably need fertility drugs to get pregnant again, so we decided that we would forgo birth control and start fertility treatments again in June, just 6 months after Isabel's birth. 

   Then in May, when the numbness wore off and grief really sunk in, I realized that we were nuts to think about having another baby so soon after such a traumatic pregnancy and I decided that I should continue on the path that I was on to heal, both physically and mentally from my last pregnancy. I was working out 5 times a week and really starting to take care of myself (or work out all my demons from Isabel's hard life). But I was too late. I started not feeling great at all and after a blood test to figure out what hormones were making me sick, we found out I was pregnant again.

   It was shocking. And then, to add to the stress of worrying about one baby being healthy, my hormones suggested something was wrong with the pregnancy. We had an urgent ultrasound that actually confirmed I was pregnant with twins! Now there were two babies to worry about. I was very sick with morning sickness and worried about getting two babies out alive and healthy and Mark was panicking about  how we were going to afford 2 babies. It was a very scary time.

   Then, a couple of weeks later, I woke up not feeling sick at all. I knew something was very wrong and called my doctor. He said unless I started spotting, there was nothing he could do until my next appointment, which was 3 days later, and to take it easy. I thought for sure I lost them both and was angry with myself for ever doubting wanting either of them. It was awful, to say the least.

   It wasn't until my doctor's appointment that I had learned that I was still pregnant with one healthy baby. Addison's twin had passed and was no longer there at all. Apparently, vanishing twin syndrome is very common and my doctor told me that he had reason to suspect that it was going to happen in this pregnancy. I didn't know how to feel about the loss. I was relieved that if something was wrong with the baby, like anencephaly again, that I didn't have to carry to term again. This was easier on me that another funeral would have been. But I lost another baby. And I was, and still am, sad and disappointed. What is wrong with my body? What does it have against my kids?

   The pregnancy progressed with all sorts of problems. At my 16 week appointment, we couldn't find a heartbeat with the doppler and had to do an ultrasound. Luckily, Addison was just being super active and we were able to confirm that she was healthy with a large round head and, in fact, a girl. Then at 20 weeks I developed Symphysis Pubic Dysfunction, or SPD. I was in so much pain all the time and forced to live in the recliner. I couldn't sleep in bed anymore. Most car rides did me in, let alone the pain of getting in and out of the car.  I would do the dishes and not be able to walk the rest of the day. It was terrible. 

   Then, at 32 weeks, Addison's large size again worried my doctor and we were sent to the specialist to see if there was something wrong, specifically with her head. The doctor reassured us she was fine, but was measuring a little large and was in the breech position. GREAT. My doctor started really pushing for a c-section at this point, but I worked hard to get  her back int he right position, which happened at 36 weeks. Thank heavens! I also started to have contractions when she flipped and continued to until she was born just over a week later. 

   The labor was very slow going. By the time we got to the hospital, I was only 4 cm, but contracting every minute and with dangerously high blood pressure (probably from all the stress!). My doctor insisted we do this and that and threatened we would have a dead baby if we didn't listen, so we did what he said, scared to death of what would happen if we didn't. After breaking my water and adding pitocin and this and that, my labor stalled and 20 hours later, my doctor came in and said "It is time for a c-section. I want to go home, and you wouldn't want a dead baby, would you?" 

    What can you say to that? We had ALREADY HAD A DEAD BABY. We wouldn't want that again. So I was wheeled into the surgical room, panicking and begging that they wouldn't do this. My anesthesiologist actually told me to "close my eyes and go to a happy place" and "pretend this isn't happening." Seriously. I have heard that these are common things rape victims are told. Then they started the surgery and my anesthesiologist reminded them to get my husband, who wasn't allowed to stand and support me. Then they pulled Addison and rushed her out, showing her to me from across the room, never bringing her to me. Why did they do this? No one knows. While in the nursery, Mark asked if there was something wrong with her and they told her no. That is just how they handle c-sections. Meanwhile I was full on panicking and wanting my baby.

   I didn't get her for 2 hours after her birth. Mark took plenty of video to prove they were literally dinking around with her in the nursery. Meanwhile, my blood pressure remained high and I just wanted my baby. When Mark finally was able to bring her to me and I was able to nurse her, my health totally returned. Imagine that. The whole thing was a horrible experience.

   I know, deep down, that I run to erase the pain of both my pregnancies and birth experiences. I have to prove to myself that my body is capable of all those things my hospital staff insisted it couldn't do.  If I can run half and full marathons, then I can have the birth I always wanted, with minimal interventions. And with a doctor that believes I can do it.  But while I work up the courage to go through all of that again, I look back on the couple of happy times we had with this pregnancy. These pictures remind me of those happy times.

I can't even imagine having this belly again. I am so glad I got a picture of it.

Me and my little girly. I was about 32 week pregnant

The View of A Race From The Other Side.

   Before I was a runner, I went to several races to cheer on my running friends. This weekend marked the first race that I went to since I became a runner that I wasn't running in the race. Since I ran the Salt Lake Marathon, Mark got to run this weekend's Provo Half Marathon. We spent the night in Provo so Mark could be at the race by 5 AM (Not an error. He really had to be there that early). Addison and I got up and was at the race just in time to miss the first couple of runners that finished the half, but it we still saw a large portion of the race. Armed with my race signs, Addison and I were able to cheer on almost every one of our running group finishers. That is a pretty amazing experience.
   You know what I have seen as a race spectator that I miss sometimes as a racer? I see family and friends who stand for long periods of time cheering on every single runner that passes them. I see kids wanting a simple high-five from the runners, all of them in awe of each passing racer. I see people who took time out of their lives to make race signs. Every race sign is amazing. I watched all the security, race workers, photographers, and all the people who go into making a race great doing little things to make sure each runner has a great experience. I think sometimes as a runner we miss all the little things as we chase our PR's and goal times, but, for me, I am always grateful for my time on the other side of the race. That is when I realize how grateful I am to every person who is there to make sure my races are an awesome experience.
  Here is a look into Mark's race experience through pictures:

Mark, Meridith, Josh, and Becca riding the bus to the top.

The Run Aways ready to run a 2:10 (or under) race.

Mark coming to give Addison and I a high-five before heading off to his 2:05:21.77 PR! 

I really strongly feel that if you are not running, you should be waving race signs. Here are mine. And I was photo-bombed by Monte.

The Run Aways post race. Many achieved a PR! I love our running group.

Throwback Thursday- Friends Addition: Ryan and Lola

Ryan, Lola, Mark, and I at the SUU Homecoming Parade 2010.

   I have been thinking a lot lately about all the people who have influenced Mark and I to become runners and be the people we are today. One of the biggest influences would have to be the power couple of Ryan and Lola. I met Lola my second day at SUU in my Nonverbal Communications class (although she doesn't remember me at all). It wasn't until later classes with both Ryan and Lola (where they started dating and eventually decided to get married) that we became friends.  

   Time passed and they moved north, then we moved next to them, then we moved again. In the first 2 years of us knowing each other, you would think that Mark and I would have caught onto Ryan's lifestyle choice to be a runner, but we didn't. He ran the 5k at SUU's Homecoming, but it never hit us he was a "crazy" runner (although, with a 20 minute finish time, it probably should have). It wasn't until he ran his 20 mile training run for the Salt Lake Marathon 2012 that we found out that all this time, we were in the midst of a marathoner. I kind of feel stupid now.

   He did work at a running store. And Lola talked about him out running here and there. But a guy who ran 20 miles in about 2 hours? This we had to watch. So on the morning of the Salt Lake Marathon, we trudged very early out of bed to be in Salt Lake in time to see our friend Josh cross the finish line in the half and Ryan in the full. It was totally worth the early wake up. 

Finishing strong. He is such a fast runner!

   As Mark and I stood there in the mix of runners that were finished, and other well wishers, we were in awe of watching all these runners, happy and finishing something so huge. Mark and I looked at each other in awe. We had only just began being able to run 2 miles together. These people were running 13 or more. And were living to tell the tell! We decided right then that we too had to do that some day. The next year we ran the 5k at Salt Lake and I ran the half this year. All thanks to Ryan (and Josh) and their incredible journey.

   But Ryan isn't our only inspiration. Lola too is a runner. She quietly goes out, sometimes pushing the jogging stroller, putting in miles that she never admits to. For her, running is her private time and she keeps her accomplishments pretty private. Only once did she ever brag. I received an e-mail from her post her first 5 mile run. It was amazing to read her running story.

   We all talk to Ryan about all of his running experience. Mark and I purposely go to Ryan to buy our running shoes so that we can also get all the running knowledge we can gather while trying out shoes. But lately I have had to rely on the example that Lola set for me when Ryan was training for his marathon in 2012. She was home with a baby all day while he worked and trained. I never heard a complaint. I have to remember that when Mark is out running sometimes. Marathon training is no joke. It takes hours and hours. Sometimes family and chores get forgotten. And while I know he needs this for himself, it is really easy to be selfish and want all of his time too. I am sure Lola felt the same way. But I never heard anything but pride when she spoke of Ryan's running. And that, to me, is just as amazing as Ryan finishing a marathon in lightening speed.

   By the way, if you want to really be impressed with Lola, she has a blog of awesome meat-less recipes. You need to go check it out.