My 1st Ultra: The Niagara Ultra 50k

“Can I give just a little bit more?”

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The Ultra Decision:

“But I don’t want to get lost, get eaten or get injured.”

This past January I was between marathon training seasons and starting to wonder what would be next. Do I want to run another Spring marathon? Do I want to try and PR (your personal record) in a Spring marathon? Or maybe take a break and focus on a PR for the Brooklyn Half in May?

I was feeling burnt out on training for speed. I had just come off running my 4th NYC Marathon in November and a long year of marathon training: a total of 3 marathons for 2016 (Newport Beach, CA in May and The Hamptons Marathon in October). Running the Hamptons Marathon and then the NYC Marathon just four weeks later was a big indicator to me of what I am capable of achieving as a runner. Both marathons I finished in my typical finish time range (4:30 – 4:40). I recovered fast from the Hamptons and rolled into the NYC Marathon ready for a fun block party. 

My husband, who is also a runner and triathlete asked me what do I want to do next? I told him I just wasn’t sure. I love long distance running but I am tired of the same old speed workouts. I already had 9 marathons under my belt since 2012. Basically, I am always training for a marathon – in the Spring or in the Fall. Despite trying my best, all my finish times for every marathon tend to be in the same range anyway. What goal did I want to set for myself in 2017? He was flipping through a copy of Runner’s World magazine. There was an article featuring Ultra runners. He turns to me and says, “You know you could do this. You could run an Ultra. You are so good at running long distance and pacing yourself. You alway finish marathons feeling like you could keep going. Why not do an ultra?”

Yeah, why not? Oh I know why. I don’t like running rocky, lumpy trails where you can get lost, get eaten or get injured. If only there was an Ultra run where it was on asphalt and streets. Maybe I would do it. So he got my wheels turning and I started researching Ultra race options.

Any race distance beyond 26.2 miles (a marathon distance) is considered an Ultra distance. The first step up into the world of Ultra Running is a 50k distance (31 miles). I knew I could go 5 miles more. Who can’t run 5 miles more?

Next up was to figure out which Ultra 50k would fit my style of city running. I had recently visited Niagara Falls in Canada for the first time and fell in love with everything about the area. My runs along the river were spectacular and I knew they had a marathon in the Fall. I was looking for a Spring/early summer race. I figured there must be a local running club that has small town races in the area. Sure enough, I discovered Saint Catharine’s Running Club who organize the Niagara Ultra in mid-June (my race was 6/17/17… lucky numbers in my book). The race includes a 10k, Half Marathon, Marathon, 50k and on alternate years a 100k. This looked like a perfect fit for me!

The course starts at Niagara-on-the-Lake and has you run the asphalt roads and gravel paths along the river for 15 miles out to the Falls where you turn around and run back. Scenic, not too hilly, and most important: I would not be lost, eaten or injured along the course. I shared it with my running club friends (Sunrise Girls Running Club) and my friend Nicole jumped at the opportunity with as much excitement as I did.

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The Training:

“We’re gonna run a marathon distance in our neighborhood, just for training. An unofficial marathon.”

Ultra training was wonderful. It was like a recharge to my entire power system. It was everything I needed to get my running mojo back. I created a plan based on several Ultra coaching websites and my own experiences after almost 10 marathons. The biggest difference from marathon training is that we did not do speedwork. Everything had to slow down. The focus was to be on our feet, not about pace. We would constantly have to slow ourselves down and settle into an 11 – 11:20 pace. It was a lovely, conversational place to be running for 4-5 hours. And although a chunk of our training took place in the NYC winter months in the wee hours of sunrise, the running Gods were on our side and we were able to do almost all our runs outside although there were a few 16 miles we had to endure on the treadmill.

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We are part of a crew of women who run before sunrise (The Sunrise Girls Running Club) so the only major change to our routine was that we had to start earlier than our usual 5am start. Many times we were meeting at 4:30am or 4:45am. For those perplexed that humans function at this hour… yes, I wake-up at 4am. Sometimes even 3:50am.  On weekends we would run back to back long runs: Saturdays would be 20 – 26 miles and then the next day we would run 8 – 10 miles (depending on the week in the plan).  It was thrilling and empowering to plan to run a marathon distance in our neighborhood, just for training. An unofficial marathon.  We actually ended up squeezing an extra mile and made it 27 just to prove to ourselves that we can give just a little bit more.

In Ultra running you walk the hills with intent. This just means you pump your arms and keep your legs moving quickly but not in a jogging movement. However in all our training we always ran the hills in order to maintain our strength and form. We also cross-trained 2-3x a week with strength training, core and HIIT workouts at our local YMCA gym.

I had my training board pinned with my 20-week ultra plan that I customized for myself off several various Ultra training web sites. I loved seeing all the check marks and my notations next to every goal I set throughout the 20 week plan- from the short runs to the super long runs and the cross-training in between. The philosophy behind my Career, Executive & Personal Development Coaching company is inspired by my running:

1) Celebrate the little victories. 2) Find the joy in the journey. 3) See it. Believe it. Be it.

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My training board for the Niagara Ultra 50k.

By the time we got to the start line of the Ultra, I felt we had run the least amount we needed on our legs in order to be fully trained and ready to rock. In other words, we were not overtrained, tired or wiped out from doing too much. We did just enough, with plenty of fuel in our tank.

The Pre Race Experience: “Damn this is far.”

The morning of the Niagara Ultra we grabbed a taxi outside our hotel near the Falls.  The taxi drove along the Niagara Parkway which would be our race course. As we got close to the start line we both had a similar thought, “Damn this is far.” Yet we knew we had only driven about 13 miles. Why did it feel like a long distance? I shook the thought from my mind. I reminded myself how it feels at the start of the NYC Marathon, at the very start on top of the Verrazano Bridge in Staten Island, looking way out across the Hudson towards the skyline and knowing you would run 26.2 miles to get to the finish line in Central Park.

I can do this. I have done this. No big deal. I have run 26.2 miles 9x times now in marathons. And I ran 24 and 27 miles in training for this run. I reassured myself I would come alive along the distance. Just like I always do. Oh, but we are driving such a long time!

Our cab driver clearly took advantage of two out-of-town runners who were geared up for a race and told us it would cost $40 in American or Canadian dollars. Alrighty then. We intentionally didn’t bother to haggle.

Along the ride to the start line, we were passing a pretty wooded, park area. Nicole saw a coyote on the side of the road and let out a loud “Oh my GOD that was a big animal and it wasn’t a dog or a fox!” We both looked at each other, didn’t speak and had the same thought, What are we about to do? Or rather… where the hell are we about to run in this Ultra course? Were we mistaken with thinking this was a mostly-asphalt course and not a deep in the woods trail run?

Just as we were both questioning our sanity and what this course was actually going to be like, our taxi began driving down a very long, steep, winding hill. This part of the road also seemed to never end and our thoughts of “What the hell are we about to do? never quit either. 

Excuse me sir. Is this the only way to get to our destination?” We knew the answer. “Yes there is only one road to get to Niagara on the Lake. This is it.” Nicole and I began cracking up with laughter. What else could we do? Give up? Complain? Groan? What would have been the point? We had to face it. There was no turning back. I took one of many deep breathes I would take for the day and told myself I would get it done and love every second of it. That was all there was to it.

We pull up to the Race Start Line and see a few runners collecting their backpacks from their cars or stretching on the grass.  To me they all looked like real Ultra runners. They were geared up with backpacks, running belts, compression socks, headbands and scruffy beards in the fashion of Forest Gump. They all seemed to have this Ultra look about them. These folks were not high-energy, bouncing, jumping, sprinting to warm-up for their kill to a PR race time. They were chill. Reserved. Quiet. I felt like an outsider. And then I adjusted my own mini-backpack, and organized my fuel of salt tablets, Gu’s and protein bars in my pockets and I realized that I probably looked like an Ultra runner too! I felt calm, peaceful and strong— mentally and physically.  I did some easy stretches and then stayed in this mental ‘chill zone’.  I was conserving my energy because I knew I would be exerting myself for 6 plus hours.

Since the Niagara Ultra is a small town race, the ‘Race Expo’ was in a community center hall.  The Hall reminded me of the church in the TV series Little House on the Prairie.  There was no Ultra race expo happening in this tiny Hall.  No vendors selling running swag or giving out free merch.  We got our bibs from a single line and then got our sweatshirts from another man who was pulling them from the box. The Niagara Ultra organizers actually state in their race info that they distribute hooded sweatshirts rather than T-shirts because there is something twisted about giving out sweatshirts in June and we like that. Ok – that pretty much sums up the Ultra crazy mindset. I liked it too.

I asked the woman who gave us our bibs if we could pick-up our shirts after the race and she said no because they will be all gone. “But you can just leave them in a corner somewhere here. No one will take it.” So it’s the honor system. Nice.  We hung our shirts on a hanger, put a garbage bag over them (I came prepared with a plastic garbage bag in case I needed insulation from wind or rain pre-race) and hung the bag on a rack along the wall.

We got ourselves pinned with our bibs and put the old-fashioned chip tracker on our shoe lace. Nicole and I chatted with a few guys around us who were also attaching their bibs. One guy was from NYC and this was his first Ultra. The other guy looked like a lean Grizzly Adams.  We sized him up to be a force to be reckoned with. Turns out he was one of the top finishers of the 50k!

Looking around, I realized that any of these runners could become part-time running partners with me along the distance of the course. Unlike most races or marathons that I have run, where you get lost in a sea of runners, never to cross paths again except for the odd chance if you’re in the same pace range; with only 195x runners participating in the 50k, I knew I would be recognizing many of these faces along the course.

There were plenty of port-o-potties and we took care of business before heading to the grassy area of the start line to relax. Yes, relax. Everyone seemed to be relaxing. I don’t recall seeing anyone doing major runner stretches or the jittery muscle pre-race bounce. There was a friendly atmosphere of longstanding camaraderie.

We saw the inflatable START area and whipped out our phones to take selfies and pictures. I have seen many START lines since I began running races in 2011. This one gave me butterflies because I knew it was going to be a first for me. I felt very prepared. 100% ready. I just had no idea what was going to happen once I crossed the start line other than the fact that I would have to run for the longest amount of time I have ever run in my life. I didn’t bother to look at the flip-side of the sign to read FINISH. I only wanted to see that sign when I was about to hit 31 miles.

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Pre-start. I was reviewing my game plan in my head. Trying to stay calm and relaxed.

All of a sudden Nicole says, “We have incoming!” And her radiantly warm Canadian cousin, Adriana, comes running towards us with her hands waving. Turns out that Adriana’s mother lives just on the other side of the park where we were stationed. It was a very happy and loving reunion between Nicole and her dear cousin.

The Race Director begins prepping and corralling (more like huddling) the pack of runners. Where do we position ourselves? We knew better than to go up to the very front. At the same time, I didn’t want to be dead last because my one goal was to not finish last.

The race director – Henri – gave directions about how to run the course. “This is an out and back race. You will turn-around just past the Falls and there you will find your drop-bags. Remember you do not have the right of way on streets so you will have to stop to let cars pass.” This is all normal, small-town race commentary. Then he says, “We have put yellow duct tape on the paths to help you follow the course.” HUH? Duct tape? I had this vision of a long line of duct tape running along the sidewalk and streets, like the line they run for the NYC marathon. One more crazy thing to add to the growing list of surprises.

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Before Nicole and I had time to chuckle at the duct-tape commentary, the director shouted with a Canadian accent “Let’s Goooooo!” and within seconds we were over the Start line. There was no singing the National anthem or other pomp and circumstance.  Everyone was ready to dig into their long run.

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Ultra Ready. Sunrise Strong. Notice the old school tags we had to wear on our sneakers for tracking. I still have mine on my sneaker for a keepsake.

Course Experience:

“Follow the yellow duct tape”; “Cubes for your Boobs!” & “Good Vibrations”

Never judge a run in the beginning. It always takes a good 3-6 miles to feel settled into a long distance race. We started running our easy, slow pace. This is not race-pace time. This is Ultra-time. Our goal pace was between 11:00 – 11:20 minutes per mile. Everyone was just easing into their groove. No one went flying around us or pushing alongside us like they do in the marathon or other road races. Instead there were packs of runners starting to bunch up based on their pace and then very gradually spread out. The folks looking to win or place for their age group were probably way ahead of where I was running too.

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In the beginning of the race, I had a bottle of water I was holding like a silly security blanket because my survival instincts were in full-effect (after seeing that big animal in the woods as we drove to the start line) and I was fearful that I would get so hot that the water in my backpack would not suffice. I didn’t trust the aide stations would be competent. Boy was I wrong!

About a mile into the run I hear a man coming up behind me making a flop-flop noise with his feet. As he gets in front of me, I see he is wearing flip flops. They looked like the cheap rubber kind that you slip on between your big toe. I have seen all kinds of runners in funny, weird costumes and get-ups: barefoot, gladiator shoes, wearing tighty-whities, thongs, super-hero costumes or cross-dressing. This man was steadily flopping along in what looked like a pair of drugstore flip-flops. We stayed near each other for a little bit. Sometimes he was in front, sometimes he fell behind. He was amazingly strong and steady with his gait.

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At one point I hear a woman comment from behind me, “Wow, you are hardcore! Guess you don’t have to worry about black toenails!”  Well, that gave me, Nicole and the others around us such a laugh. It felt good to laugh. It took our minds off the pressure of what we were about to endure and calmed our nerves.

We come to our 1st aide stop and it was… charming?  I don’t know how else to describe it.  There was a woman cutting the packaging for chomps and lining them neatly in a dish. They had other snacks too but at this early in the race we just wanted some water, maybe a chomp.  The chomp flavor was perfect: salted watermelon. These race organizers know what a runner needs! Extra salt. We were the only runners at the aide station now that everyone had spread out.  We told them we were from NYC and a friendly male volunteer whips out his camera and says he wanted to take a picture of the girls from NYC. So of course we struck our tag-team pose.

A little later on we run into a guy and his girlfriend along the course. He was a seasoned Ultra runner. Has run 100mile races and averages 75 to 100 miles a week! We asked him for his advice. It was the best advice he gave: ultra running is an entirely different world from marathon racing. Never run a hill. Ultras always walk hills with intention. His girlfriend was chugging along and while she looks to be very fit she did not look like a seasoned runner, let alone an ultra runner. Turns out she only ran a half marathon and seemed to wake-up one morning and be convinced by her boyfriend to run a 50k.  

This friendly couple were guiding a blind runner. We realized this because suddenly she shouted “Tree!” with a second to spare and he moved to the side. I don’t think he was 100% blind because he didn’t have a leash guide.  Hours later he broke away from them and eventually we caught up to him around mile 18. As we gradually past him on a bridge along the Niagara river where there is a power plant on the Canadian and US sides, he said to me, “Isn’t it gorgeous here?” It truly was spectacular, every section of the course was gorgeous.

At the 2nd aide station there was an amazing buffet of candies, cookies, chips, Coke, Nuun hydration water, water and my fave- ginger ale! Being the Italian-American girl that I am, my instinct was to try everything and stock-up. Not that I needed anything. But it was there so I should just load up, as though I was at a wedding in Brooklyn’s Le Grand Prospect Hall during the Venetian hour of desserts.  I just stood there staring at the assortment of drinks in tiny cups and exclaimed: I feel like I should be doing shots! Nicole almost spit out her chomp at the volunteer.

Around mile 7 – 8 we hit our first whopper of a never-ending hill in a wooded park. We were ready to charge up it. This is how we trained all season. Run a hill. We remembered our ultra running buddy’s advice. Walk with intention on the hills! But did he mean this hill? Or something else? Then we saw the folks up ahead slow down to a walk. Ok, we are walking. That was an odd sensation to stop running and walk. I never do that in races unless I’m at an aide station. I had to give myself permission to walk. The hill was a mile and a half long and just kept winding and going up, on a very steep slope. I was happy not to run it. I pushed out of my mind what it meant on my finish time.  Must conserve my energy.

After the big climb, we picked up running again and passed the School of Horticulture, Botanic Gardens, Golf Course, vineyards, a vineyard with the sign “Ice Wine Slushies” that sounded so delicious, and spectacular mansions. At one point we were alone and didn’t know which way the course went. And then we saw it: a small strip of yellow duct tape. There it was, looking completely out of place. So off we went in the direction of the tape.

There were no mile markers so I used my watch to keep track.  We come to the 3rd aide station and again the volunteers were amazingly warm and friendly. Very attentive to our running needs. A young girl was spraying runners, unsolicited, with her water bottle. She just started spritzing me the entire time I was in the station drinking and chewing. It felt amazing as the sun was getting strong.

I love running a new course because the adventure of discovery is an awesome distraction from having to always pilot your body through the run.  We passed a heliport where tourists can get rides to the Falls (I did that the next day!), a zip line jungle gym that took you to the edge of the cliff leading down to the rapids, and a beautiful bridge for a water power station. There was a section on the road where helicopters continually passed overhead and the noise was like a drum-roll leading to our next destination… the decent down the road towards the main tourist area and the Falls.

At this point we start to see the lead Ultra runner’s coming back towards us. We were confused because doing the math it meant they were running a pace of around a 7 or 8 minute mile. Very impressive for a 50k!

By now it was hot and humid. There was a lot of shade and sometimes pleasant breezes but then the sun would burn bright on our shoulders.  We get to aide station 4 at mile 12 and a wonderful woman is pouring water on our heads and another is shouting the greatest phrase I have ever head in all my years of running marathons and races

“Come get your cubes for boobs!!”

“CUBES FOR YOUR BOOBS!”

Well I don’t mind if a do. Never did this before. She said to take a handful and shove them down my shirt.  I took a handful of the ice cubes and dropped them down my running bra. I immediately felt the relief of being cooled down. So I took some more cubes for my boobs.  And then I put ice in my hat and off we went towards the Falls.

We get to mile 13 and are in the center of Niagara for the tourist sites. There are no race marshals or fans cheering. We just had to zig-zag around tourists who had not a clue what we were doing there.  A few noticed we had race bibs on and stopped to stare in confusion. We just kept trotting along. Other 50k runners were coming back and we all high-five’d or encouraged each other in a nod of Ultra camaraderie.

Around mile 14 – 15 I saw my family waiting along the promenade to the Falls; my 11year old twin daughters, my sister, her husband and son. They were all cheering as they saw us coming towards them. It was a funny sight because again, it was just another tourist day except for a scattering of ultra runners. My little nephew (4yo) asked what took me so long. “Auntie can’t run that fast. I have to run a very long distance.” I guess he couldn’t stand waiting to see his Auntie. Seeing everyone was the best boost to our spirit.

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We get to the Falls at Table Rock and a volunteer points to a cone on the ground and says, “Make sure you go around this cone and then you can stop on the grass patch over there for your drop-bag.”  This is the most visited part of the Falls, lots of tourists taking photos. And then there were us Ultra runners, some on the grass stretching, other’s mini-picnicking from their drop-bags or changing their socks.  No one around us gave a damn or cared what we were doing. Obviously the Falls were more interesting to them. But we all felt like super rockstars and it didn’t matter what kind of attention we received. 

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We stopped at our Bag Drop area and picnicked with coconut water and a Powerade bar. We met a bunch of female Ultras who whipped out a cooler with watermelon, pepperoni and turkey sausage. They were very friendly and offered us everything.  The watermelon was refreshing.

A young girl from their group said she was going to head out and not wait for them since she felt good. They waved her goodbye. I remember wondering if she was rushing and not taking care to pace and fuel herself. Or perhaps she was feeling good and didn’t want to lose momentum? (We passed her a few hours later).

Heading back on the course we hit a pretty big hill just after the center of the tourist sites. Everyone was walking up the hill so we did too. Now we were starting to feel the distance and the time on our legs and a slight taste of the end coming since we were more than halfway there. So we ran up the second half of the hill while others were slugging it up in a walk. We were feeling strong and recharged. As we were running up the second half of the hill we caught back up to our couple friends who lost their “blind” runner (he broke away) and they were walking. He reminded us they were walking cause ultra runner’s don’t run hills. This time we ignored his hidden warning. We pushed on. Plenty was in our bank of reserves. Besides, we train in Staten Island where our favorite course is loaded with big hills.

We chatted with a few ultra runners who all made the jump to ultra running after many marathons and the common thought we all shared– I wonder what it’s like to do a little bit more?

At one point we passed a runner on a stretcher with a neck brace and a bloody nose.  It looked like she had an accident with a biker. The volunteers were amazing at tending to her comfort.

Around mile 20 we were starting to pass runner’s. There were only 190 ultra runners so we had been very spread out throughout the course and yet now we were closing in. A couple of times we passed runners who were on the floor sprawled in odd poses (half a stretch and half a badly cramped pose) and we thought they were in distress.  When we asked if they needed anything they perked up, “No, all good. Just stretching.”  I guess ultra runner’s die a few times along the course and then bounce back from a dose of mental toughness?

Once again we came to our Cubes for Boobs lady. This time I took a massive chunk and shoved it in my bra. The ice jangling like change in a pocket. I did not care. I needed to survive the heat.

We are about ten miles to go. As I always do with all my races, I broke it down into bite-sized chunks. Just 2 sunrise loops to go. A sunrise loop is the my daily course during the week with my Sunrise Girls Running Club. It’s 5.25 miles each loop. We knew it was game on from this point forward.

It was hot and sunny. Lots of open areas without shade. We had to dig in. Be a robot, as my triathlete husband always recommends. Autopilot on.  Just keep moving. My body felt strong. No cramps or hints of cramps. Just felt waves of heat and then I would shut it out of my mind.

Then we hit a big downhill for over a mile, in the shade. Our legs loosened up as we enjoyed the downhill.  We almost got lost as we came out of the hill but then we found the lonely piece of duct tape. Runners were spread out wide and we didn’t have anyone to look ahead towards. Just that little piece of duct tape indicating we were heading towards the finish line.

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Around mile 22-23 Nicole started to feel the mental load. I gave her a pep talk and reminded her that this is everything we trained for. Now is when it all kicks into gear. All those months of 4am runs, cross training, clean eating. All for now! Everything we invested in our running bank, it’s time to take a withdrawal and go big! Can’t throw away all that handwork just cause right now, when it really counts, we feel a little sluggish. This is our ultra and we are going to finish it strong. She stepped up her pace and fell into a healthy rhythm with me.

We came to mile 24 and decided to put on our music for an added boost. Turning on music this late in the game gave us a sugar rush and a bounce in our step. I cranked up my AC/DC “Highway to Hell” and “Thunderstruck”. And then I got down with a mix of RuPaul dance tracks, Hamilton soundtrack, Kendrick Lamar, Lisa Lisa & The Cult Jam, Katy Perry “Swish Swish”, Black Sheep “Choice is Yours” and Marky Mark & The Funky Bunch “Good Vibrations”. The last song was on repeat the entire final 2 miles. It became my theme song.

At mile 25 we did a quick stop at the aide station. The volunteer was so thoughtful and offered to unscrew and fill my water bottle. This sounds silly to a non-runner but when you have been running for as long as we were, our hands don’t have normal dexterity. It was a welcome service.

We had a strong groove in our step and as another small hill approached and others were walking, Nicole said, “No, let’s just take this puppy home all the way!” Alrighty, let’s go! Just as I pepped talk Nicole earlier, she pepped me with that one simple sentence. Thank God we had each other to motivate when we each needed it most.

At mile 27 I saw my sister and my daughters. They went driving by honking and shouting and then caught us along the course. My sister even had my husband (who was home working) on Facetime via her phone so I could say a quick hello.

We are down to just 4 miles to go. Two loops of Clove Lakes Park on Staten Island. No biggie. It’s a tempo run! Our energy was picking up with each half mile. We hit a quaint town with an old stone church. It was quiet and lonely. We saw one other ultra runner and no one else. Our pace was strong and steady.

I got a huge surge and started ticking off runner’s who were walking or trotting. I felt my legs go high and arms were pumping. Nicole was with me and then a little behind me. We dug deep. It felt like when you come off Fifth Avenue in the NYC Marathon with about 3 miles to the finish line. I did not wanna give in to the walk. I paced myself to finish strong. Most of these runner’s probably went too fast in the beginning, lost their steam and now we are ticking them off.

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We were holding a 10:15 minute per mile pace and volunteers who were ultra runners commented how great we looked for a 50k. That’s when I realized I was meant for ultra running. And that I might have found my hidden talent as a midlife athlete.

I turned on “Another One Bites the Dust” and “Good Vibrations” and found a third gear. I started singing out loud. It helped to control my labored breathing. I also felt really joyful and in a runner’s high — ultra high? — and singing felt silly and good to me. Something in my brain flips over to a very happy place whenever I cross over to 20 miles. I was passing a few runners who were walking or limping and I just kept my pace while singing. I knew I wasn’t going to enter into that dead-mans walk territory. I conserved my energy for the last 5 miles and tapped into my gritty mental toughness so I could finish strong.

It was open fields and sunny but I didn’t let it stop me or slow me down. I was breathing heavy but told myself today is a good day for a suicide pace. This is what you trained to do. Go do it! Nicole was not too far behind me and then at a certain point I must have stepped up faster than I realized because I did not see her when I turned around.  I kept pushing myself forward. There were no crowds but I just knew I was close to the end.

The Ultra Finish Line: “Smile Across The Finish!”

And then I saw the finish line. I ran on the grass and had to watch my footing for dips and holes but I was still able to step it up. I saw my sister Jill and my daughters standing at the finish line! My heart was bursting with joy. I was so happy. I was running past spectators sitting along the grass as I ran the final stretch to the finish line. I heard the girls shouting – “Come on Mommy!” and then the announcer shouted “Here come’s Mommy! Smile Across The Finish, Mommy!” Hearing those words… the words that are my personal and professional mantra. The name of my coaching business (www.smileacrossthefinish.com), the foundation of my coaching philosophy, that is when I started to lose control of my breathing and feel a surge of pride and happiness burst through my eyes in tears.

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I charged across the finish line, hugged my family and then realized I could not breath. Someone gave me a medal (oddly it was of a tree and NOT the Falls. As odd as giving a hoodie instead of a t-shirt for a June race). I needed to find water to cool down and catch my breath.

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My sister was filming me come through the finish line chute. But in the excitement and cheering, she misfired and forgot to hit record. The race photographer caught the moment I came in and she realized she missed the entire thing on video. Oh well. I will never forget the visual in my mind!

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A few minutes later Nicole came charging for her finish line. We all started cheering. She kept raising her arms, or attempting to raise them high, in a victory pose. Afterwards she said she felt so bloated that even her arms were too heavy to lift over her head. No matter the bloat. She did it. We did it. 

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What did Nicole go for after she finished? Her coconut water and a vape. I went for water, a few sips of a beer and for the next 20 minutes felt as though I was sucking air through a straw. I sat against a tree in the shade while my daughters hung nearby and waited for my breathing to calm down. When I took off my hat, the ice cubes I had shoved underneath about 45 minutes earlier were stuck to the crown of my head!

Everyone was lying on the grass— some half dead and others just chilling drinking beer. It’s a crazy scene to look at ultra runners. They all push themselves to the brink of death, and bounce back again for more. Their bodies cramping, crumbling, sprawled on the ground and yet their spirits, their minds are in overdrive and they still manage to will their bodies to keep. on. moving.

Afterword:

My magic ingredient to make what seems impossible, possible

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My 50k Ultra Finish by the numbers: 31miles in 6:30 (my watch had auto-pause and put me at 6 hours). Ranked 13 for my age range. 3500 calories burned.

It is damn hard work to push yourself to do more, to get comfy with being uncomfortable, to build your mental toughness and a deep reserve of resilience, to MAKE the time to follow your plan and hit your goals, to be consistent and disciplined, to hold yourself accountable to each milestone, whether it’s to run 4 miles, or do cross training with weights, to always be mindful of your nutrition and how you fuel your body (especially when you’re well into your 40s and things don’t bounce back like they once did), and to make sure you get enough sleep! And if you have a family and a job, I know it seems so hard to do. But it is NOT impossible by any means. It’s a choice you make, and you start with one foot actually in front of the other. For me the magic ingredient is waking up at 4am and meeting my Sunrise Girls Running Club for our runs, before my kids are up and my day begins. I type all this because I hope it can inspire some of my friends to realize that they too can hit their health goals despite it seeming impossible.

The Niagara Ultra 50k was the best experience we ever ran and we plan to return again next year. Now I have my eye on what’s a little bit more? Maybe a 50 miler? I know I can do it. Just have to set the plan and go for it.

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My NYC Marathon 2013 Experience

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

THE FIRST TIME I EVER RAN

Back in August 2010 I could only will my body to run for fifteen minutes around a few blocks in my neighborhood.  One day in August, before my young twins would start Kindergarten and my morning gym routine would be rocked upside down, I had asked my Dad, an avid runner and marathoner, if I could try running with him.  We met on a Sunday and without any instruction we simply started to jog together.  I had planned to run a half hour except I couldn’t make it and stopped halfway because I was convinced I would pass-out and my knees would be damaged forever.

Every time we met I added a few more minutes to my run.   I didn’t know the distance or pace I was running. I didn’t know that my sneakers would have a huge impact on my legs. I didn’t think about nutrition or hydration. I didn’t think my clothes would impact my comfort level.  My goal was to run for however long I felt I could manage. I would tell myself to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, a little bit more each time.  It was hard and yet so much fun.

Fast forward three years later, I am running the first mile of the NYC Marathon across the Verrazano Bridge, and I remember how there was once a time when I couldn’t run more than fifteen minutes.  The thought gave me a wonderful sense of internal calm and joy that cocooned me from the gusts of chilly winds.

START OF THE NYC MARATHON

START OF THE NYC MARATHON

THE NEW YORK CITY MARATHON EXPERIENCE

Running the NYC Marathon was much more than a race, it was an experience.

The experience began when I went to the expo at the Javitz Center to retrieve my bib.   The moment I walked into the expo I felt a tremendous surge of emotions, my eyes welled up and suddenly I was crying.  Last year I went to the expo with my sister, just after Hurricane Sandy and having travelled through the dark, powerless streets.  While we were paying for some running clothes the official word came through from Mayor Bloomberg that the marathon would indeed be cancelled.  

Here I was again.  Two seasons of hard marathon training, now with two marathons on my legs (Philadelphia and Disney). I felt incredibly proud of myself.  My mom was with me for support. She hugged me as we wiped away our tears of joy and I got my bib.  When the volunteer handed over my bib it was as if I had just been handed a pass into heaven and an angel was telling me, ‘You did good, Tara. You made it.  Go on through.’  

There were giant maps of the course on display. Many were taking pictures while other’s were just staring at it in adoration and deep prayer.  I did both.

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

On my drive home to Staten Island I crossed the Verrazano Bridge and said a little prayer for strength and safety for  me, my husband, my Dad and my awesome running group friends who were all about to run the NYC Marathon.  The next time I would cross the bridge would be on foot.  Quite a mind-blowing thought when you really think about it!

MARATHON DAY

I live just a 10 minute drive from my home on Staten Island to Fort Wadsworth.  Preparing for the start of the marathon was the most relaxing and pleasant experience.  Since the marathon also took place on Daylight Savings, I gained an extra hour of sleep too.  I had concerns that starting late in the morning (10:30am) would throw me off since all my long runs are at 7am.  Not the case.  The later start time gave me the chance to properly eat, hydrate and warm-up before hitting the course.

Any aches and pains I had been dealing with throughout my training went completely out the window on marathon day.  What plantar fasciatis? What ham-string issues?  Calf pains? Not on me.  My body was wiped clean from all the adrenaline pumping through me.

The week leading into the marathon I could not sleep.  I would lay in bed and literally feel my muscles itching to run.  The night before the marathon I had the best night sleep.

My husband and I leisurely enjoyed breakfast before getting dressed for the race.  I ate 2 multi-grain waffles with some almond butter and a dash of maple syrup.  Drank some orange juice and a big glass of water.  And had my usual shots of espresso. All consuming was done about 3 hours before I would start running.  We blasted on our stereo AC/DC “It’s A Long Way To The Top If You Wanna Rock And Roll” and woke-up our young daughters with fanfare.

One of my obsessions for the marathon revolved around fashion and weather. What do I wear?  I know layers are the answer but what layers? The high would be 50 degress with 15mph winds.  I reminded myself that I always get hot once I start running so I layered a long-sleeve dri-fit shirt with a light tank-top. I was prepared to toss the top if necessary.  I wore hot pink sleeves that served me well once I eventually shed the long-sleeve shirt around mile 20.  I also had gloves that could be tossed.  Knowing there would be wind gusts I also wore my neck-scarf.  It’s great for covering your face in winds, or pulling over your hat to keep from blowing away. For the wait in Fort Wadsworth I wore a sweatshirt that I tossed aside at the start.

We were allowed to take a clear plastic bag into the Fort. I packed a Gatorade (to take a few sips just before starting), some toilet paper, a small towel to sit on and a large garbage bag where I had already cut a hole for my head.  In case it was very windy I would have put the bag over my body for insulation.

My husband’s start time was 10:00am, mine was 10:30am and my father 11:00am.  I went to the Fort with my husband while my Dad arrived later.  As a married couple with young children, training for a marathon added more challenges to our daily routine.  For more than six months we had plotted our running schedules around each other and the activities of our children.

Here we were on the verge of achieving our ultimate goal and once again, we would be on different schedules. We strolled through the Fort hand-in-hand enjoying the sight of thousands of runners from all over the world mingling about before he went off to his corral.

I then caught up with my running partner Ken in our corral. We sat on a grassy knoll off to the side of the bridge, waiting for our turn.  We heard the cannon blast for Wave 1 and looked up onto the ramp to the Verrazano Bridge to cheer on the runners. Such excitement to know that soon it would be our turn! We were in Wave 3 / Green and that put us on the lower level of the bridge. Of course I wished my start was across the upper level but there was nothing I could do about it so I accepted my course.

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

Everything was nicely organized and very accommodating for the runners. There were Poland Spring tents with free bottled water.  A Dunkin Donuts table with free coffee.  UPS trucks collecting bags if  a runner wanted to reclaim a bag at the finish line.  And most importantly, the Royal Flushes were in great abundance.

We made our way over to our corral and were shuffled to the lower-level entrance ramp just past the toll plaza.  We were running on the left-side of the upper-level, closer to NYC. This is normally the lane for cars driving to Staten Island from Brooklyn.  The speakers blasted Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” to which everyone sang along and waved hands.  An announcement was made warning runners not to go to the bathroom on the bridge because it is dangerous and unpleasant…that gave us all a much-needed comic relief.  I was extremely relaxed. Ken and I mapped out our plan – take it easy, it’s a nice long 20-mile run and then we race.  I told Ken that although we will start the race together he should not feel obligated to wait for me or hold back if he starts to feel the need to push ahead.  No matter what happens, we need to run our own best marathon.

The gun went off and we started jogging, I hit start on my watch and stayed relaxed.  Not 100 feet onto the bridge we got hit with the first gust of wind. Oooo, it was strong! I hunkered my head down into my hat, tightened my form and nestled behind a pack of runners.  I figured being on the lower level probably had an advantage in that it buffered some of the strong wind gusts. 

We also didn’t have an incline like the upper level. I soaked up the views that I see every day going to and from work.  It was awesome.  I looked to my left in the direction of Manhattan and the upper-east side bridges and realized that in a few hours my little legs were going to bring me over there. It was such an overwhelming thought that I simply regarded it as no big deal. I knew I would do it.  

As we started to descend the bridge I could feel the marathon was really about to begin as I started to hear cheers.  I repeated my affirmation that I always say at the start of a race – I will finish this race. I will finish strong. I will run the entire race.  By saying these words it’s like I’ve mentally locked in a promise between my brain and body to achieve my goal. It works every time.

My wave ran the first 3 miles on a slightly different course in Brooklyn before joining the other waves on 4th Avenue. We were never without cheers.  As we approached 4th Avenue the crowds were loud and packed on both sides of the street.  Runners were pouring onto the street like rainbow-colored sand in an hour-glass.  As we merged into 4th Avenue I felt a wave of energy sweep me off my feet. I wasn’t running. I was gliding!

I had my name taped on my shirt and spectators were calling me. Go Tara! Tara! Tara! Strangers were cheering for me. It was an amazing feeling.  I wasn’t paying attention to mileage.  Suddenly we were almost 6 miles in.  I kept an eye out for friends who were to be stationed along this marker.  I saw my dear friend and screamed and jumped and hugged her tightly.  I ran off and not 2 blocks later a runner taps my shoulder and says I dropped my phone with my friend.

I froze.  Ken said not to worry, just go back.  So I turned around and started trotting back, against the push from the runners, looking into the crowds that were packed 5 rows deep.  I saw my friend, yelled out and she tossed the phone to me.  This ordeal took no more than a minute. I figured it was meant to happen so I didn’t get upset. Maybe this little interruption helped recharge my muscles or saved me from a fall that would have otherwise happened? We made up the time lost because in a few miles we past the runner that had initially helped us.

At every fluid station we grabbed water and Gatorade and took a few sips.  By mile 10 I took a few energy chomps just to be safe on my glycogen reserves.  After mile 10 it felt like there were quite a lot of hills.  We paced ourselves through each one, reserving energy so we would be strong for the finish.

When we got to the Pulaski Bridge between Mile 13-14 that was the first spot where I saw lots of runners falling apart. There were many off on the side stretching or walking and with faces of pain.  It was a very steep, although short, incline over the bridge.  I leaned a little bit forward, hiked my legs high and charged up and over.  As we came down the hill I increased my speed and let gravity replenish my lungs and muscles.  If there were strong winds, I didn’t notice. If there was a chill, I didn’t feel it.

NYC Marathon 2013 - Mile 13 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

NYC Marathon 2013 Mile 13

The crowds were everywhere and they carried me through every borough.  It was one big party on the streets of New York.  Anyone that had hands out I smacked with a high-five.  If there were little kids I made sure to give them a high-five too.  The feeling of connecting with so many people was phenomenal.  I remember how I felt as a young girl watching my Dad run NYC Marathons in the 80’s and 90’s. I would get dizzy watching the endless runners move past me as I stood crammed behind the police barricade.

As we made our way towards the Queensboro Bridge I felt its massive height looming above me from the roadway. I stared it down and thought, okay, I gotta run over that too. I’ll get there. I can do it.  One step in front of the other.  On the bridge more runners were crashing.  We passed them though we weren’t running faster. We definitely slowed down but mentally we were feeling strong and in good spirits.  There was a police helicopter hovering just off the side railing of the bridge. Runners were stopping to take photos.  I soaked up the amazing views.

I am a New Yorker so while skyline is a view I know very well, it never ceases to take my breath away.  I thought of the foreigners running around me and how the impact of all the tall, closely fitted buildings and bridges must captivate their attention.  Does it make them feel intimated and insignificant?  Does it overwhelm their inner-strength or motivate them harder?

The bridge was a steady incline and we all felt it.  There was a silence and just the sound of sneakers hitting pavement. I didn’t put on my music. I enjoyed the sounds around me.  Finally we peaked and started to feel the relief of running downhill.  I knew we were about to hit onto the streets of Manhattan and that thought made me happy.

Ken and I braced each other. We know that at  Mile 16, when you start to head up First Avenue, is where runners get into trouble because they feel the energy of the crowds and being in Manhattan and then make the mistake of going too fast and ultimately bonking out.  We kept our pace steady.  The crowds were back and a welcome sight. I’ve heard of the ‘wall of sound’ that runners feel as they come off the Queensboro Bridge.  What stood out to me was seeing mobs of people crammed along the barricades, waving and cheering every single runner.

First Avenue is one long incline. At first I was looking at each street number but after a few blocks I stopped because it was making me feel the distance I still had to run. Instead I focused on the massive crowds that were cheering. By now my name tag had fallen off my shirt. I wished I had come up with a better plan for getting my name on my torso.  It was the higher miles where I really needed to hear my name.

Ken and I were looking at the crowds seeking friends.  Somehow we missed seeing everyone.  Except at 86th Street where we spotted his family.  There is simply nothing like seeing someone you know amid miles and miles of strangers.  His wife gave us bananas that we ate as we ran off.  That banana was a fantastic energy booster.

As we hit the Bronx the crowds thinned out but there was a lot of fun music blasting.  I realized how depleted everyone’s energy levels were becoming because there were few runners waving hands or high-fiving spectators.  We were all reserving as much as we could to keep our minds focused and legs moving.  The party atmosphere we felt throughout Brooklyn and Queens took a very different tone in the Bronx and Harlem as the real race – the last 6 miles – was about to begin!

I saw the Willis Avenue Bridge and thought, “Holy cow! We are actually here now, already!  It’s gonna be over very soon.”  The Willis Avenue Bridge has always seemed extremely far away from my point of life on Staten Island.  

My nutrition for this marathon has been a different approach from the past marathons.  I limited my Gu and Gel intake to just 2 packets and only once I reached +18 miles.  In the lower miles I took a few chomps.  And I ate two bananas.  One around mile 16 and another around mile 22.  What I found I most needed was salt.  I sweat a lot.  

Ken had a few salt packets and gave me one at mile 18 as I started to feel my legs getting a bit stiff and my running posture trying to compensate.  As if I was doing a tequila shot, I licked some salt, grabbed a shot of water and boom! I was back in action. I had to do it again around mile 22 and it made a world of difference.  My legs were starting to get stiff again and I could feel that my calves might start to cramp. I didn’t chance it. Another salt packet and like magic my legs loosened up again.

Every new neighborhood we crossed into was amazing. At some point we were in a Mexican area and I found myself shouting ‘Viva Mexico!’ and then it was Indian where the DJ was blasting Bollywood music.  As we came down from the Bronx into Harlem there was a Latin band playing salsa.  I found the energy to give a little cha-cha-cha in my run.

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NYC Marathon 2013 Mile 20

Coming across Mile 23 I  looked ahead and saw the infamous Fifth Avenue.  It was yet another long steady incline.  I was expecting this moment after months of training.  I decided to ‘go fishing’ as I once read in a marathoner tip guide.  I’d spot a runner, reel him in and move on.  Runners were really hurting at this point.  Many were walking.  If I passed someone walking I’d pat them on the back and try to encourage them to keep on moving.  My pace was pretty steady throughout the entire marathon but here is where I really felt I was gearing up for a big finale.  I felt myself growing stronger.  As we started to get close to where we would enter into Central Park, Ken and I both began to really pick-up the pace.  The crowds were non-stop.  Our coach had trained us to get comfortable (although it’s never really comfortable. You just get comfortable with the uncomfortable) with running faster the last few miles of our long Sunday runs.  As we came to our final 5 miles our brains were doing just what it had trained to do.

I know the course in Central Park with my eyes closed.  We started to run past the museum and then down Cat Hill (finally a down hill!) and I could feel the finish line coming closer!  I was scanning the crowds for my family but never did see them. At this point Ken was also feeling juiced up from the crowds and surged ahead of me.  I watched him run off with his hands waving to the crowds shouting “Make some noise, New York!”  We were both feeling on fire. I was happy to see him charge off because since I had trained for many months with him step-in-step I knew it meant we both had the strength in us to push harder.  He inspired me to push harder.

I was now zig-zagging past runners as I came along 59th Street and just a mile away from the finish line.  Only when I got to Columbus Circle did I notice that daylight was starting to slip away.  I kept picking up the pace and smiling at the crowds.

I don’t think I could have been living more in the now than during the 4 hours and 41 minutes it took me to run 26.2 miles.  There was never a moment where I thought in the past, nor did I think in the future. I just kept focused on the present moment I was in with the bounce of each step.  Right up until the finish line.

NYC MARATHON 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

NYC MARATHON 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

I was so happy to see the finish line but also felt very sad because I didn’t want the marathon to be over.  I remember thinking the moment I saw the finish line that I could definitely run another 10 miles.  I looked around and made sure no one was blocking my moment.  I held my arms up with my hot pink arm-warmers, looked up to heaven, said thank you to God and my angels and smiled across the finish.

Ken finished a minute ahead of me and we both felt amazingly strong and pumped with energy.  We were handed our medals, took pictures, grabbed a tart apple, got a goodie bag (Gatorade protein drink, pretzels, protein bar) and made our way out of the park where we were wrapped in the most amazing NYRR Poncho. These ponchos were only given to those that opted not to check baggage.  I felt like a superhero being given her cape.

We met up with my husband (finish time 4:17) and compared stories.  Before Ken went on to find his family we said we’d speak later in the week and figure out our running plans for the following weekend!  Runners never stop.

SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

Me and My Husband after the NYC Marathon 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

My husband and I made our way back towards the finish line and waited for my 69-year-old Dad.  By now it was getting dark outside.  I spotted his stride and he was moving steady and strong.  For the first time I wasn’t just a spectator for my Dad.  I was a marathoner too.  We screamed and hollered for him, gave him a huge hug and watched him finish like a champ his 9th marathon in 5:48!

REFLECTIONS

Looking back on my marathon experience, do I have any regrets? Is there anything I would change or do differently?  Regrets, absolutely not.  Do differently? I would run a lot more hills in my training.  And every time I would think I ran enough hills I would turn onto another hill just for good measure.  The NYC Marathon course is packed with hills, a lot of sneaky incline hills like on First Ave and Fifth Ave and a handful of rolling steep hills especially crossing the bridges.

I would also reserve my energy during the first 14 miles. Brooklyn was such a rush and I loved high-fiving spectators and waving and smiling at everyone.  That act used up a lot of energy and probably also slowed down my pace when you add it all up.

I hope that my journey to crossing the finish line, over all the months of training and while in the very moment of running the course, inspires even just one person to do something they never dreamed possible.  When you make an authentic decision to do something, the universe conspires to make it come true.  If you remain determined, committed and give it your best effort, you too can Smile Across The Finish!

NYC MARATHON 1979 & 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

NYC MARATHON 1979 & 2013 SmileAcrossTheFinish.com

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November 30, 2013 · 3:16 pm

THIS IS MY HAPPY PLACE: Comfortable With Being Uncomfortable

The above picture truly captures me in my happy place: body mid-air, arms swaying strong, relaxed posture, music pumping, hint of grimace and determination on my face as I taste the finish line just ahead.  It was taken at mile 13 of the Staten Island Half Marathon last Sunday. 

Ironically, I was actually quite uncomfortable: my calves started cramping around mile 11 because I was lacking salt, I was sweating so much that my glasses were fogging, my toes were starting to get a little bit numb and my brain was trying to lure me into slowing down to a more comfortable breathing pace.  All that is not what was on my mind in the moment the picture happened.  It’s what was in the back of my mind, trying to takeover.  

What was front of mind is a very simple thought, “You are stronger than you think. The uncomfortable will pass.”  I kept saying these phrases over and over again and willing my legs to go a little bit faster, my knees to lift a little bit higher, my breathing to relax. I thought of my training runs where my coach would push me to run tempo pace for miles (a much faster pace) after an easy 10 miles. Even though I was uncomfortable I knew that eventually I’d settle down and get comfortable with being uncomfortable.  

 

Since January 2013 I have run five Half Marathons (13.1 miles) and all within a finish time range of 2:10-2:14.  I finished the Staten Island Half in 2:04. Not a PR (Personal Record) or the sub-2 hours I so very much long to achieve and not my best Staten Island Half time (last year in 2012 I finished in 2:02) but I gave it my absolute hardest effort. Can’t ask for anything more of myself.

I realized after finishing the Staten Island Half that my legs have two marathons on them over the past year. Although I’d like to believe this fact makes me stronger, it can also make me plateau and face more muscle fatigue. (And oh have I: shins, plantar fascia, calf pains, hamstring tightening!) None of this matters. Comes with the training. I need to just stay relaxed, listen to my body, rest when I should rest during taper, believe in my strength and go as hard as I can for that finish line.

Although I’m not smiling in the above picture, a picture that truly captures my happy place, as soon as I rushed across the finish line, I was smiling ear to ear with immense satisfaction and pride.  I just LOVE that finish line!

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You Know You’re Ready To Run A Marathon When…

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Today was my last longest run before the NYC Marathon.  As my Garmin watch beeped mile 20 I realized that although I was uncomfortable, I was in familiar territory. I could handle the uncomfortable. I knew I could find my way. Over the past several weeks I have visited the elusive neighborhood of +16 miles quite frequently.  Each time I became more familiar and comfortable with my surroundings.  I was no longer venturing into no-man’s land wondering whether my body could run as far as 16, 18 or 20 miles.  I knew exactly where I was going.   Any sense of self-doubt or fears evaporated with my sweat.   With each visit I felt more confident I would get there more efficiently. As I came to the end of my 20 mile run today I visualized myself finishing the marathon by racing those last 6.2 miles with all my heart and soul!

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One Month Until NYC Marathon 2013!

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This 2013 marathon training season has flown by.  I started phase 1 in late May and have been gradually building mileage and speed-work ever since.  Today I ran another 20 mile training run which tops off a total weekly mileage of 48.  My legs have been very fatigued and achy in odd spots. I know these aches.  They are the aches of marathon training.  Having already run 2 marathons this past year, I’ve learned how to listen to the moans of my body.  I know which sensations are muscle moans and which are yelps of pain that cannot be ignored.  I’ve complimented my training with bi-weekly physical therapy sessions.  Initially to treat plantar fasciatis (a painful tightening near the arch/heel of your foot) and now mainly for tune-ups… my left hamstring, my right ankle, my left shin, my right IT band…all runners have their list.

I also know when my brain is tired from building mental toughness.  Sometimes my runs are all just a long series of arguments with myself. It’s tired from arguing with me! My brain tries to coax me into modifying my training plan.  For example, it will tell me to slow down just a notch when I’m doing speed-work, or to make a  6 mile training run a 4 miler. Or it tells me to stop for 5 minutes to drink and stretch instead of pushing through the discomfort.  It will tell me not to run the hill or to stay in bed.

I’ve learned how to listen and decipher the nagging, negative voice.  I know when I need to shut it up and when it’s time to truly listen.  When I really do need that extra rest day and when I need to push harder and keep moving forward.  My technique is nothing fancy.  I simply tell myself at the start of a run that I WILL do this. I WILL finish.  (That Under Armor commercial was definitely created by an athlete!)  I think of this technique as being similar to when I turn on my internal alarm clock.  I can go to sleep and tell myself I must wake-up at 5:30am. It works every time. I am up just before the alarm sounds.  It’s the subconscious at work.

Yesterday I ran 8 easy miles.  I debated running just 4 but when I got to the park I hit 6 miles and decided to just go for it and squeeze out 8.  As my coach likes to say – money in the bank.  It wasn’t my best run, it certainly wasn’t my worse run but I still got it done. What did I expect? Why bother worrying? I still got it done.  Money in the bank.

Today’s 20 mile training run began at 7:00am in thick fog and high humidity. I train with an awesome group of runners. We pair off into various pace groups. I have a running partner who is a great conversationalist and a strong runner who helps make the time fly by.

We ran along the Staten Island boardwalk, starting at the Fishing Pier, went out to Miller Field, Cedar Beach and then turned around in the opposite direction and ran along the boardwalk towards Fort Wadsworth (which was closed due to the government shutdown) so we ran Lily Pond Avenue down to Bay Street, all along the water down to the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, past Staten Island Yankee Stadium and the 9/11 Memorial, and further out to the promenade near Jersey Street, turned around and ran back to the boardwalk’s Fishing Pier.

It was extremely humid and we were soaking wet from head to toe.  My hair was as wet as if I had jumped in a pool.  By mile 16 we did a quick pit stop for water, I took an energy Gu and we decided to crank on our iPods and stepped up our pace for the last 4 miles.  It felt amazing!

I’m especially happy with the strength we had to finish strong.  This was one of those runs where I finished feeling like I could run not just another 6.2 Miles (Marathon) but easily 10 more miles! I could actually imagine myself running an Ultra Marathon!  This is the kind of thinking I had after finishing my very first Half Marathon (Brooklyn) in 2011. I was astounded that I had just run 13.1 miles and looked beyond the finish line thinking, hmmm, maybe I could run a marathon.  Maybe an Ultra is in my future?  Anything is possible.

Here are my splits:

Total Runtime: 3:28  Average Pace 10:24

Mile 1  10:35

Mile 2 10:21

Mile 3 10:30

Mile 4 10:36

Mile 5  10:22

Mile 6  10:42

Mile 7 10:41

Mile 8 9:24

Mile 9 11:00  – Stopped for water (2min break)

Mile 10  10:38

Mile 11  10:52

Mile 12  10:41

Mile 13  11:21 – Stopped for energy supplement (2min break)

Mile 14 10:41

Mile 15  10:25

Mile 16 11:19 – Stopped for water (2min break)

Mile 17  9:26

Mile 18  8:50

Mile 19  9:00

Mile 20 10:00

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Bronx 10-Mile Race: Best Race Ever!

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I boogied down hard in the Bronx 10miler this past Sunday!! By far the coolest and most fun course in all NYRR Races. Felt super strong, finished with a PR of 1:35 (9:30pace). Best part was digging deep in my soul to hit negative splits & get faster with each mile! Refused to let the ‘I can’t’ voice win. I kept calm, relaxed and let the finish line pull me in! 

I went into the race relaxed. 10 miles is nothing but a mere warm-up when you’re average weekly mileage is 45-50miles per week and your easy daily runs are 6-8 miles.  The course runs most of the Grand Concourse (think the Park Avenue of the Bronx) a swings out to a park and little of the Mosholu Parkway before you head back the way you went out.  There were a few hills and inclines but they all were manageable and did not drastically slow me down.

I did a 1 mile warm-up before the race with a very easy trot.  Got my heart-rate up just enough so that I was sweating (it was also about 80% humidity).  The urban landscape of old apartment buildings and views of the subway running on the elevated tracks were quaint and reminiscent of the roots of New York.  

For the first time I experienced what it feels like to have an imaginary cord pulling you towards the finish line.  On all my past races I had felt myself moving away from the start or that I was moving forward, inching towards the next mile marker, not necessarily the finish line.  In the Bronx 10-mile my mind entered a new frontier.  I kept digging deeper in my mind to relax and go a little faster.  Just push a little more. It’s only 10 miles after all. I didn’t have that far to run.

So I kept pushing myself and by mile 5 I started to feel something pulling me (instead of me pushing myself) forward, faster, towards the finish line.  I focused on that sensation, all the while trying to stay calm in my breathing and in my muscles. My legs have been weary with fatigue with all the marathon training!

The runners around me kept changing and I realized I was moving into a faster group, passing a lot of folks. At around mile 8 I’m back on the Grand Concourse and I see the road drop under an overpass and then a steep climb back up to street level.  I used the opportunity to gain some ground and let myself float quickly down and charge in tiny pitter-patter steps up the hill.  My breathing stayed fairly steady.  I hit a few more hills and although I saw them approaching I actually didn’t realize I had even made it up the incline until the road was flat in front of me and I couldn’t recall ever feeling I was working up a hill.  There were scant moments where my mind tried to tell me to stop or slow down.  I shouted back, I will finish fast!

About a mile to the finish line I stopped to grab water. I wanted to make sure I had fuel in my engine for a strong finish.  Stopping 10 seconds to drink water helped drop my heart rate.  I tossed the cup and kicked off briskly. I knew the finish line was approaching even though there wasn’t a large sign that read “FINISH”.  I let my mind zone in on that imaginary cord that I had been feeling for the past 5 miles and enjoyed the sensation of letting it pull me in.

For the last 500ft I sprinted.  As I crossed the finish line I let out a huge yell of satisfaction, stopped my watch and took a sweaty, joyful picture.

Here are my mile splits off my Garmin, overall 9:26 pace:
1. 9:28
2. 9:43
3. 9:43
4 9:33
5. 9:13
6. 9:36
7 9:38
8 9:13
9. 9:20
10. 9:07
Last 500ft 7:17

After the race I enjoyed the most delicious cup of Spanish coffee at Molino Rojo (161st Street), a visit to the Yankee Stadium gift shop and back to Molino Rojo for a 2nd cup of coffee.  This was the perfect race and perfect New York day!

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WHY DO YOU RUN?

Run for Life

This is a common question to runners. “Why do you run?”  Folks will presume I run because I want to live longer and that somehow through exercise my days will be extended.  Not the case for me.  There are plenty of examples of perfectly healthy athletes that died too young or have fought to survive against disease and illness despite running countless marathons. 

I don’t run because I want to live longer. I don’t run because I expect each mile will add days to my life. I have faith that date has already been decided in a divine plan with God. I run because it helps me feel I am enjoying life to the fullest by pushing strength through my body, energy through my spirit and absorbing the beauty of the earth I run across.

I run because each step, each breath, each mile adds a beautiful life to my days.

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The Joy of Running

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The restart button worked.  After a much-needed two-week rest from running, I am relishing my runs again.

A rest period did not mean I was doing nothing towards my fitness. I still enjoyed other activities like spin, weight training and even skiing. However, not running was bringing me down. I started to feel lazy. I hate feeling lazy. I had to constantly remind myself that proper rest is not the same as being lazy. It is all part of the training. Like when you need a great vacation after a long period of hard work, not just the break of the weekend.

On Saturday I looked forward to my first morning run with excitement. I didn’t have a plan for distance or course. I just went for a run. Spring air could be felt on the kiss of a cool breeze with the temperature at +46 degrees. I didn’t look at my watch. I didn’t try to go fast or pace to other runners.  I just ran wherever my legs and heart felt like going.

I ran the hilly streets near my house and over to the park for a loop around the lake. I did a second loop without realizing. I forgot I was running. I saw a path for a hill and suddenly was halfway up the incline. I saw a road I hadn’t run in a while and pranced on over to run it without giving a second thought about the distance, gradation and terrain.

My mind was clear and relaxed. My legs had a spring again. I could hear the inspiring musings of the infamous painter Bob Ross from the PBS television show The Joy of Painting calmly reminding me that it’s my world. I can do whatever I want in it.

Moving in a peaceful flow my mind started to paraphrase Bob Ross’s popular quotes to running: “The road is your canvas. It’s your world, run wherever you want. In running you have unlimited power.  See a happy little tree or a titanium white cloud floating by in the sky.”

The Joy of Running

Reflecting on The Joy of Painting lead me to think about the art of running. I was reminded of the philosophical phrase- Does life imitate art or art imitate life?  Is there any separation between running and life or are they mirror images of each other? Sometimes life is reflected in the run and other times the run is reflected in life. Or does everything come from the root of life?  A deep philosophical question to ponder during a run! (And one that has been poetically expressed in the works of Oscar Wilde.)

If I have a great run, my day is always better. If I have a lousy run, my day is never quite balanced. If I’m under a lot of stress or pressure from life, my run can sometimes imitate that sentiment causing me to drag my feet and have a tough run while other times it helps me to process and cope with stress.

When I finally got back home I had run 8 beautiful, easy miles. I felt amazing and the runner’s high stuck with me throughout the entire day.  To me, life is always better after a run.

Life is Always Better After a Run

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NYC HALF MARATHON

It had been almost 8 weeks since my last race, the Manhattan Half Marathon so I was looking forward to the NYC Half Marathon on March 17. My Race-iversary was this month too. Two years since running my very first race, the NYRR Colon Cancer 15k Challenge. I have since run a total of 27 NYRR races plus two marathons (The Philadelphia and Disney Marathons) that equals 311.5 Total Race Miles.

It all started with one step.  Every single mile has been a precious blessing. Some of those miles have been magical, where I feel as though I’m floating just above the ground for miles upon miles. And of recent, the miles have been tough, sloppy and hard on the ground.

Many months ago when I first signed up for the NYC Half Marathon I had hoped to PR under two hours.  Being stuck in a runner’s rut, I realized that goal was just out of my reach.  So I changed my expectations. Just because I’m having a tough time with running doesn’t mean I have to give up all my joy and enthusiasm! I switched my focus on the goal that is at the heart of every race, even every run, that I tackle one step at a time: to smile across the finish.

I went into the NYC Half Marathon with excitement and weariness from winter running.  The morning of the NYC Half it was 28 degrees with a bone-numbing wind.  Wake-up was for 4:00am in order to start prepping.  My father, husband and I were all running the race.  We drove into the city from Staten Island at 5:00am.  Parked uptown on the east side of Central Park.  We walked with herds of runners in the frigid cold to baggage check and then walked across the park to the west side for the race corrals. I couldn’t stop shaking from the cold air.  The corrals closed at 6:30am and I waited another 45 minutes before I actually crossed the start line.  The cold was torture.  I knew once we started running I would warm-up. The start could not come fast enough.

The course was one full loop of Central Park, down Seventh Avenue, through midtown and across 42nd street, and then down the West Side Highway, past the World Trade Center, into a tunnel that was completely flooded during Hurricane Sandy, and then to the finish line at Wall and Water Streets.

The loop in Central Park was smooth sailing.  I kept a steady pace and tried not to go too hard as I wanted to tackle the Harlem Hills with an energy reserve.  As I hit the steepest hill on the north west corner of the park I pushed myself to pass runners.  At one point I was so determined to get the hills over with that I even shouted, “Oh how I LOVE hills!” which gave me a good boost up the final climb.

There were two funny moments I encountered along those hills.  As I past a fluid station a friendly volunteer was shouting, “Get your Gatorade on the rocks here!” The Gatorade was more like a slushy and the water cups had to be squeezed a few times to crack the top layer of ice. I also had a runner’s celebrity moment.  I ran past the infamous NY weatherman Mr. G who is also a lifetime marathoner.

From then on it was time to relax and enjoy the fun.  I came out of the the park, down Seventh Avenue, where there were crowds of cheerers.  The feeling of racing in the streets of NYC are like nothing I have ever experienced on any other race course.  There is a natural energy that comes up from the street and bounces off the buildings. I felt it in my legs and easily picked up my pace. There was even a moment where I was on pace to come in just under 2 hours.  I was working very hard to keep consistent.

Around mile 8 my sister met me along the sidelines and helped pace me to mile 13. Running across 42nd street towards the West Side Highway the winds were relentless.  Whereas at the start of the race I was freezing, now I was freezing and sweating.  If this had been January, I would have been enjoying the challenge of the new season.  But after months of this cold weather I just could not take it any more.  I had decided that after the NYC Half Marathon I would take a two week break from running.  I had never taken a proper break from running since running the Philadelphia Marathon in November and then the Disney Marathon in January. Like it or not, it was time to rest.

Passing the World Trade Center site I started to slow down. I used each water station as a chance for a brisk walk in an attempt to recharge my batteries.  We headed down into the tunnel to loop around towards the finish line.  That tunnel seemed to never end.  And then I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  I had to push up a final short and steep hill.  That was where I felt as though I was running through mud, dragging bricks behind me.  My sister was pushing me to move.  She would say, “You only have a two miles to go!” “Just one more mile!”.  The problem for me was that because of my struggles with running, two miles felt like an eternity to run.

As I came out of the tunnel downtown and approached mile 13 I became very emotional and tears swelled up in my eyes.  I was pushing my legs to move but they just didn’t want to go any faster.  My breathing was staggered and my chest was burning from the cold air. Although the Half Marathon (13.1 miles) was a distance I had raced countless times and run on countless Sunday runs, the NYC Half was a true challenge for me.  I reminded myself to pull it together and finish strong because after this race it was rest time.

So I took a huge gulp of cold air into my lungs, pushed it quickly out of my mouth and charged for that finish line as though I was in a fight for first place. I crossed the finish line (2:08) with complete relief that it was finally over, exhaustion from the challenge and  a total joy that I accomplished yet another race. Now it’s time for a two week vacation. I can’t wait to see how I feel on the other side of it.

Photo: 3 highlights of today's NYCHalf Marathon: 1) Running last 5m w/ my sis who pushed my to finish strong 2) Sharing entire experience w/my Dad (finished in 2:34) & husband (1:48) 3) Seeing the infamous Mr. G twice running loops in Central Park and having him shout at me: "Hey Baby! Lookin' good!" both times!!

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Stuck in a Runner’s Rut

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These past few weeks of winter training runs have not been the most inspiring or motivating. I’ve given over to my lazy voice and have taken more rest days and shortcuts on my runs than I ever did throughout my marathon training season (May-Jan).

As someone who loves to run races, I like to fancy myself as always in training. I had planned to treat Feb – Mar as maintaining a half-marathon training schedule.  Coming off a marathon training season for the first time, I found it hard to restart a new training season.

On weekdays I have been forced to hit the dreadmill at my YMCA because I don’t feel safe running alone outside in the dark.  The dreadmill is fine for working on speedwork. It holds me at a steady pace and within a timeframe. However, for those nice, easy 6m runs, the dreadmill is utterly dreadful. And with daylight savings time the morning’s have just become a whole lot darker.

After months of training in winter weather, Spring cannot arrive fast enough! I am bored with running indoors, staring at a dark parking lot. I am done with the cold weather and biting winds. I am sick of running around black ice patches or through snowstorms where the snowflakes disrupt my breathing. I want to retire my three winter jackets and simply go outside for a run without having to winterize myself.

I am nostalgic for my marathon training season. I miss running 6 miles almost daily and to regard it as an easy run. I envy anyone running long 18 milers now as they prep for a May marathon.  I miss feeling ravenously hungry, legs achy and body depleted of energy after a week of hard training and a long run (i.e. 10miles Saturday, 14+ on Sunday). Although I long for marathon training season, I also know that I need to rest.

Sometimes my runs start out bad and then flip to pure elation by around mile 3. Sometimes I’m like a race horse and immediately get started with a strong energy that holds to the end. And every so often, although not frequently, the entire run simply sucks. My legs won’t move smoothly. My breathing is uneven. My head is weighted with every negative thought and stress in my life that finds its way to my legs. My stomach feels either bloated or hungry. My lips are too dry. My ears are cold. My neck is too hot. My legs are chilly. Nothing feels right. Everything is off. These past few weeks have been very off.

I am told this happens to all runners eventually.  It’s part of the process and makes for stronger mental training.  I think it happens because our body or mind needs to properly rest. As runners, we need to allow time for our muscles to regenerate tissue fibers and our mind to clear itself of ‘runner’s clutter‘.  Runner’s clutter are all those nagging negative thoughts that are leftover after months of hard training and races.  They are the thousands of no’s and i can’t’s that our mind tries to scream at us while we push our legs forward mile after mile. Eventually they become a pile of clutter blocking our positive flow of thoughts.  The only way to clean them out is with proper rest. Sometimes rest is a day, sometimes it’s two days and sometimes you really need a good week or two for Spring cleaning.

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Sometimes my Sunday Long Runs are with a friend.  Having a running-mate makes a world of motivational difference. We keep each other moving.  We help each other forget about our legs and think about life.  The simple act of talking helps us improve our breathing as runners.  This past winter my solo Sunday Long Runs were a big challenge. I would wake up late (8:30am) and eventually drag myself outside for a run. As I stepped outside and got blasted with the cold air I immediately wanted to go back inside.  Normally I relish being outside for a run, no matter the elements, no matter the company or being solo.

I have a few bad runs and suddenly the drama plays out in my head that it’s all over, I’ll never have a good run again, I might as well just give up.  My biggest fear is to lose it all. To never be able to run again.  So when I miss even one day of running or encounter even one bad run I start to panic. It feels like the end of the world!  But I refuse to listen.  I have faith that it will get better.  I never, ever give up trying. I know tomorrow is another day to hit restart.

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