GOTR: A Different Kind of Recap and What’s Really Important

I’m on the wellness committee at work. Yes, it’s as awesome as it sounds! Anyway, one of the programs we offered to company employees this spring was a Couch-to-5K program. My pal (and fellow committee member) Michele and I spearheaded the program. For anyone not familiar, Couch-to-5K is a very effective way to build up to being able to complete a 5K (3.1-mile) distance. Very cool.

The culminating event of our program was the Girls on the Run (GOTR) 5K, which was on May 17 (yes, delayed blog post, I know!). GOTR is an incredible program that builds confidence in young girls through all sorts of activities, which include training for a 5K. There’s always a fun, encouraging atmosphere on race day, which we figured would be perfect for our Couch-to-5K finale.

Unfortunately, a bunch of people who signed up for the program couldn’t make it to the actual race, but there were eight of us – some who had run races before and others who hadn’t – who were able to lace up on race day. We all lined up together in the crowd of race participants, who ranged from elementary-age kids to adults, and got ready to go.

The GOTR 5K isn’t the race that runners sign up for thinking that they’re going to notch their best time. The nature of this event is celebration and encouragement (plus, it’s packed with participants), so it’s rare for a runner to nab his or her best 5K time. I went into the race knowing that I wasn’t going to PR, so I decided I wouldn’t allow myself to get frustrated by my pace or my total time.

And that was a good idea. As soon as I crossed the starting line, I wanted to take off, but the crowds were so thick that I spent a good deal of time actually jogging in place. I eventually made it to a sidewalk, where I ran for a while so I could avoid the crowded streets. After a bit, things started to open up a bit, and I felt like my time wouldn’t be too bad. But remember you’re not worrying about your time, I reminded myself. Oh, right.

The fun and inspiration of GOTR is watching people of any age do something they’d never done before…and possibly never even thought they could do. I remember being one of those people a few years ago, completing my first 5K while beaming with pride; at every GOTR race I run, I’m proud of each and every first-time 5K-er, no matter how young or old they are. It’s so much fun to watch and be a part of. All along the way, experienced runners offer encouragement to the girls who are tackling 3.1 miles, and spectators cheer on the younger participants with gusto. Parents run with their daughters, and dads often don crazy costumes or put temporary pink dye to their hair prior to the run to support their daughters. And sometimes, the girls offer encouragement to older runners as well. I was running near a young girl and her mom at one point, and the following conversation ensued:
Girl (who seemed to be doing just fine): “You know, Mom, if you need to stop and walk, just let me know.”
Mom (a bit out of breath): “Yeah, that would be good, if you don’t mind.”
Girl (slowing to a walk): “I don’t mind. You’re going a good job, Mom.”
Me (internally): “Awwwwwww.”

That’s the nature of GOTR: it’s about others. Of course, everyone wants to do well (which is why I wish they’d use a starting mat in the future, so runners could have an actual chip time instead of just a gun time), but my focus always ends up being on something bigger than my own personal achievement.

After I crossed the finish line, I tracked down some of my fellow team members and then went to cheer on the rest of my teammates, along with the girls and their parents, as they approached the homestretch. I love watching people approach the finish line at all races, but there’s something extra special about this at GOTR. I think it’s the way girls’ faces light up when they enter the stadium, where the finish line is. I’ve run this race three times, and it always – ALWAYS – renews my passion for running. It’s awesome.

As for my teammates, we all crossed the finish line. Way to go, everyone! Keep up the good work!

Team EPC: Fawn, yours truly, Melissa, Michele, Ruth, Wendy, Karl, Rosa

Oh, and my time? According to my watch, I finished in 26:30, not my best time and not my worst. But this race wasn’t about me. It was about celebrating the joy of running.

Getting Back on the Horse

A little while ago, my friend Ann told me about the Shoe House 5-Miler race series, with races on June 14 (yes, today), July 12, and Aug. 16. At the time, I had kind of thought about signing up, but since I had already registered for the Red Rose Run, a 5-mile race that was last weekend, I decided not to do the Shoe House.

Well, then last weekend happened. As you may recall, I didn’t post a time that was very much to my liking. It wasn’t horrible, but I knew I could do better at the 5-mile distance. As I wished for a chance to earn a better 5-mile time, I realized that I could still sign up for the Shoe House. An opportunity for redemption? Yes, please!

So I decided to get back on the horse, so to speak. Mom and I signed up for the whole series earlier in the week and met up with Ann this morning at 5:50 to carpool to the race site. The race itself wasn’t huge (I think there were about 130 runners), so it didn’t take long to pick up our bibs and shirts and drop things off at the car. OK, let me just say: I’ve run a lot of races, and this has got to be the coolest race bib I’ve ever had the privilege of wearing! Check it out:

YES!

The race was set to begin at 7 a.m., so I was glad to be able to get the run in before the weather got really hot. It was going to be an out-an-back from a local trade school to the Shoe House, so I was looking forward to seeing the structure up close. On the course map, distances were marked in kilometers, so I guessed that they’d be marked that way during the race as well. I’m not great at doing conversions from kilometers to miles in my head while running, so checking my time at the Shoe House, which was about 2.5 miles, would give me a mile-related clue as to how I was doing.

Before the gun sounded, I reminded myself of my goal: to run my best and, ideally, improve upon my Red Rose Run time of 45:37 (when I run on my own, I’m consistently in the 43-minute range, so I don’t know what happened at the Red Rose Run). Of course, I told myself that if things didn’t go well at the race today, I still had two more Shoe House opportunities! No sweat. Well, lots of sweat (that’s what happens when I run), but no pressure. You get the idea.

When the race started, I tried to stick with a group of people and not get stuck in no man’s land, which is how I refer to those gaps between groups of runners. When I’m stuck there, all alone with nobody near me, I slow down drastically without realizing it. I did a pretty good job, and for a while I was following two ladies, one in an orange shirt and one in a blue shirt (remember this; this is important). I wanted to pass them or at least stick with them and then pass them before the finish line, but they pulled away on a long, gradual-ish hill, which was on the early side in the route and was the toughest hill on the route.

Not long after beasting the hill, I saw a mile marker. “So, they aren’t using kilometer markers after all,” I thought, relieved. No math conversions for me today! Win.

Since I figured that the tough hill slowed me down quite a bit, I guessed that my time at the upcoming 1-mile mark would be somewhere in the nine-minute range. Wrong. It was 8:00 on the dot.

Uh-oh. Way too fast, especially considering that my time would have been faster if it hadn’t been for that long hill.

Even though I would have loved to try to keep that pace, I know my limits right now and decided to take my foot off the gas pedal a bit.

Mile 1: 8:00
Mile 2: 8:46 *I probably took my foot off the gas pedal too much, but I was feeling dramatic, wondering if I was going to run out of energy because my first mile had been too fast.

Before too long, I reached the Shoe House. I grabbed some water from some very nice volunteers and tried to enjoy the Shoe House property as I ran through it before starting my return journey. It’s a pretty cool structure, actually. It was originally constructed as an advertising gimmick for a shoe company owned by a pretty eccentric dude, and now it’s a museum (that’s the short story).

Anyway, with less than 2.5 miles to go, I was feeling pretty good. Not long after leaving the Shoe House, I passed Ann and then Mom, who were approaching the turnaround point. We cheered each other on, and that gave me some additional motivation. Thanks to both of you!

Mile 3: 8:56

Obviously, my pace had slowed from my first mile, which was somewhat by design. With only 2 miles to go, I decided I was feeling good enough to pick up the pace. Plus, since the course was an out-and-back, I was a little bit familiar with what was ahead of me.

Mile 4: 8:18

Hitting the 4-mile mark at an even 34:00 gave me a lot of hope. Even if I logged a 10-minute mile for my last mile, I’d still have improved my time from the Red Rose Run. “Give it a little extra,” I encouraged myself. I kept up my pace and noticed that the lady in the blue shirt (from earlier) was still a bit in front of me but was within striking distance. I targeted her, like I had early on in the race, as someone I wanted to pass before the finish line.

Before I knew it, I had reached the final incline, which crested to lead into the parking lot where the finish line was. When I reached the top of the hill, there were three people in front of me: a man in a white shirt and a lady in neon yellow socks were just in front of me, and the lady in the blue shirt was a little farther ahead. I had probably less than a tenth of a mile to pass them all. Challenge accepted.

I usually don’t kick it in so far ahead of the finish line because I don’t want to peter out, but this time I had to if I wanted to catch the lady in the blue shirt. And I DID want to catch her. So I began to run harder, and soon I had passed the man and the lady in neon yellow socks. The lady in the blue shirt was giving it a good push, and for a second I thought I wouldn’t be able to pass her. “Make it happen,” I urged myself, and I began sprinting. And I edged her out 20 or 30 feet from the finish line. Woohoo! Score one for my random competitive spirit!

I stopped my watch as I crossed the finish line: 42:30. Whaaaaaat?!?! Hey, I think that’s a PR, even including my runs at home!

Mile 5: 8:30

Filled to the brim with endorphins, I grabbed a water and a Gatorade and watched for Mom and Ann. It wasn’t long before I saw Ann, and I cheered loudly as she completed her first 5-mile race. Way to go, Ann! We both were there not long afterward when Mom came running down the homestretch on her way to a 5-mile PR. Nice job, Mom!

The three of us exchanged race stories before tracking down some post-run refreshments: grilled Lebanon bologna sandwiches on pretzel buns. Random? Yes, but definitely tasty.

Enjoying our sandwiches

Then we checked the results screen, where my time was confirmed:

Yours truly, fourth from the top. Also, notice the reflection…nice.

I came in 30th place out of 126, which was super cool! The fact that I placed so high (for me) got me wondering what place I earned in my age category, 20-29. Because the results screen scrolled, it took a few rotations for me to have an inkling that I may have won first in my category! Mom counted, too, and she gave me a little smile.

Surely enough, during the awards ceremony, I was announced as the first-place winner in the 20-29 age category! Woohoo!

So thrilled!

I had received age group awards several times in other races, but this was the first time that I won first and actually felt like I’d earned it (the other time I won first was at a 5K where I posted my worst (uninjured) time, but that’s another story).

And again, just because I’m still so happy about this!

Also, let me just say: I am so proud of Mom and Ann! They both exceeded their running goals, to my knowledge, and had a great time in the process. Keep it up, both of you!

Ann and yours truly

Another mother/daughter success

We love the Shoe House!

As runners, we all have good days and bad days. Last week’s race, for me, was a bad day, but today proved why I don’t let bad days stop me from running: because I know there are so many good days ahead! See you in July, Shoe House.

Setbacks and Progress

I like to run. That doesn’t mean I’m fast in a Usain Bolt, Mo Farrah, or Meb Keflezighi sort of way; it just means that I like to lace up my sneakers and go out there and put one foot in front of the other for a number of miles several times a week.

Of course, I do like to see progress. I love knowing that I’m getting faster. Once upon a time (in 2012, to be exact), I was convinced I could never complete 4 or more miles at a pace that was under 10 minutes per mile. Well, last October, I ran the Hershey Half Marathon (that’s 13.1 miles) at a 9:02 pace. Score one for progress!

Anyway, for the last year or so, I’ve been consistently running 5-mile routes in 43-ish minutes (under 9:00 per mile). So when I signed up for the Lancaster Red Rose Run 5-Miler, which took place yesterday, I was aiming for a time in that neighborhood.

It was a beautiful day for a race. Mom and I had signed up to run, so Dad dropped us off, parked the car, and came to watch us. (Side note: Dad had done the Red Rose Run when I was a baby – Mom and I had spectated – so it was very cool to be able to continue the family tradition!)

Getting ready to go in downtown Lancaster

One thing that’s fun about running locally is seeing people I know. I happened to bump into the Roehm family, including my buddy Jacquelyn!

Buddies!

Of course, I was representing Team EPC, so we got our most-of-group shot:

Team EPC, including (from left) Mom, yours truly, Jen, Emily, Wendy, Rosa, and Jocelyn. Michele and Clair were on the team also, but they somehow avoided being in the picture.

Soon we were all called to the starting line. I was feeling pretty good, but I’ve done enough races to know that how I feel (good or bad) doesn’t always translate to how well I race. Plus, I had heard things (bad things) about some of the hills on the course and didn’t know exactly how much they would affect my time.

The horn sounded, and I started my watch as I crossed the starting line. The race began with a small incline and took us through part of Lancaster city. At 1 mile, my watch read 8:26. We reached a water stop at approximately 1.5 miles, and I grabbed a cup. It’s not typical for me to use water stops during shorter races, but it was very hot that morning and most of the course was in the sun. (Side note: Unless I’m about to keel over, I always thank the volunteer who hands me water.)

Right after the water stop, the route took us into Lancaster County Park, where I hit 2 miles at 16:52-ish. I’ve run there many times before, and it’s a beautiful location. The race course stayed beside the river that runs through the park, and it avoided the park’s intense hills. Thank you, race organizers…for now.

I felt a bit warm and tired as we left the park and approached the 3-mile mark. The killer hills were coming up, so I was concerned about how tired my legs felt. “You’re almost at the fun part!” one spectator shouted, almost ominously.

I reached 3 miles at 26:15-ish, so my pace had already slowed before I got to the hills. And it slowed even more once I encountered them. Let me tell you: tough. They weren’t your average hills; they were more like a series of never-ending gradual inclines broken up by small patches of flatness and, on occasion, a brief downhill. I’ve gone up against some serious hills, but these almost did me in for some reason. At one point, it felt like I was running a 30-minute mile (I wasn’t). Remember when I thanked the race organizers earlier? Yeah, well, I take it back!

I reached 4 miles at 36:30 or something. By far my slowest mile in a long time. Bummer. I kept running, and the course took us back into Lancaster city. “Wow, how can we NOT be at 4 miles yet?” I thought, frustrated. Then it dawned on me that we HAD crossed the 4-mile mark. Clearly my brain wasn’t quite with it.

A good portion of the last mile was a straight shot into the city on what happened to be a long, gradual, not-quite-worth-mentioning incline. I felt so slow, but I kept pushing on. One spectator, a guy who had already finished the race, yelled, “It’s all downhill after the turn!”

I looked up and saw that the course turned a few blocks ahead. In theory, all I had to do was make it to that turn and then coast the whole way to the finish line…if I believed that guy. It’s been my experience that sometimes spectators and even fellow runners give inaccurate information, either because they forget the details or because they’re generalizing.

But it turned out that this guy was 100 percent correct. The course WAS downhill after the turn! I saw the finish line ahead and began to speed up. Then I saw my dad on the side, cheering me on; that really gave me a boost! I grinned, pumped my fists, and set my sights on a girl ahead of me whom I wanted to pass. Bingo.

I kicked it in, but as I was just about to pass the girl, a guy came sprinting up beside me, bent on passing me. Wanting to keep both the girl and the guy behind me, I picked up the pace and crossed the finish line ahead of both of them. Yes!

My official time was 45:37, so I hadn’t even come close to the neighborhood of 5-mile times I knew I could do. To add to that, I had just posted my slowest 5-mile time in more than a year. Bummer. (Side note: There are plenty of people out there who would be dismayed at a time like mine, but there are also plenty of people who would be overjoyed with that time. I’m not busting on anyone’s pace; my frustration comes from knowing that I didn’t race to the best of my ability.)

Runners on the homestretch

I grabbed some post-race snacks and went to find Dad so we could cheer Mom on along the homestretch.

Go, Mom! Go!

She acknowledged us and then noticeably sped up:

There she goes!

She finished in 55:07; way to go, Mom!

Another mother/daughter race experience is in the books. 🙂

The more I thought about the race, the more frustrated I got with my race effort. Keep in mind that I’m someone who wants to PR every single time I run. Although I was a little grumpy with myself, I came to the conclusion that a bad race time isn’t (really) the end of the world. Plus, I was able to take some lessons away from my Red Rose Run experience:
-I need to learn how to conquer long, gradual inclines. I can do steep hills like crazy, but anything gradual typically presents a problem.
-It’s OK to recognize that race results may have been affected by various circumstances. For example, I had just finished a week that was busier than usual, which I know took its toll. I don’t like to make excuses, but there’s a difference between making an excuse and understanding/acknowledging (but not blaming) circumstances.
-No matter how poorly I feel a race is going, it always brings a smile to my face to be able to speed up and pass someone at the finish line. I’m just competitive like that.
-Not every race will be my best. Hey, anybody can be off on any given day. It’s OK. The important thing is not to let those off-days stop me.

In keeping with that last point, I went out and ran 9 miles with a buddy this morning, and I signed up for the Hershey Half Marathon. Oh, and I’m planning on trying the Red Rose Run again next year. Because I’m not letting any off-day stop me.