But since then, I’ve been thinking about HOW I got those lines around my eyes.  About squinting through countless sunny days as a child, running and playing in my neighborhood. About all the books I’ve focused intensely on as the plot thickens.  How many times I’ve laughed so hard I cried.  The thousands of friendly smiles I threw at people sitting down at my bar at Clydes in the 7 years I worked there.  The thousands of smiles that broke the ice or highlighted the bond with customers in my sales job.  The countless smiles I’ve tossed out to people sitting down next to me in a plane as I travel all over the country for my job.  The millions of love-filled looks I’ve given and received from my daughter and husband.  And the many, many miles I’ve run squinting in sun, rain and wind and over finish lines – real or imagined.

And I wouldn’t change any of that, so I guess I’m OK with these.

- I <3 to Run

But without fail, seven times now I’ve reached the finish line of a half marathon and said ‘DAMN I’m glad I don’t have to do that again right now!’.  I run all out.  I end on empty.  I give it my all and 13.1 miles is about all I’ve usually got.  But…

I really want to nail a full marathon before I turn the big 4-0 next March.
But I’m CHICKEN.  I’m afraid I’ll run 13.1 miles and then just not be able to run another step.  Will I have to WALK the second 13.1 miles?  Will I crawl over the finish line?  Will I die?

I just have to click ‘send’ to upgrade to a full marathon for March 17th.
Bock bock.

…your Dermatologist decides there are two ‘suspicious’ moles that need to be removed, and you ask ‘But can I RUN if you remove them today?’ and she says ‘NO RUNNING FOR TWO WEEKS’.  Then you (I) seriously contemplate running OUT of her office when she goes to get her punch and stitch crap.  *sigh*

So in the end she got her way, and I am not allowed to run for two weeks.  I was on track for an 85+ mile month!   Booo (potential) Melanoma!

So here’s how my day went:

5:00 am:  Alarm goes off
6:31 am:  I actually hear the alarm
7:30 am:  Race start

Mind you, I live a good 45 minutes from the race venue.  Add in 1 minute to brush teeth, 2 to put on clothes, 1 minute to grab all my gear and 8 minutes to park, and that puts me at the start line (after a 2 minute full-on sprint from the car) at 7:29:59.  HOLY cow.  Not the way I like to start a race.  No coffee.  No breakfast. No water.

Race day conditions started off pretty good, but as the race progressed the dewey morning turned into a fairly hot and humid second half of the race.  Humidity is my nemesis.  The Frederick half marathon taught me that.  So by mile 5 on my Garmin, my average speed was 8:49 per mile but I was struggling.  My face was bright red, and I was basically panting.  So I put on the breaks and slowed it down a bit for the second half, knowing that there were some challenging hills ahead.  In the end, I finished in 1:38.  That’s 10 minutes faster than last year’s time, but much slower than I had hoped.

So I titled this entry “Race Every Mile” because around mile 7 it dawned on me that I messed up.  I should have planned to start slower knowing it was a humid day and knowing that humidity robs me of speed if I don’t really focus on pacing.  I should have been working the race plan mile by mile instead of running each mile as a separate race in itself.  I could have finished much stronger if I had banked some stamina for that mile long hill around mile 7.  And man, did I want a good finish line photo this year.  But I’m pretty sure my face read “screw running I quit” instead of “Yeah!  I kicked that course’s ASS” as I’d like.

So my lesson for myself is to plan better.  Break the race into one mile segments and build on each one to finish strong.  And smile when I cross the finish line, damn it.

I had started running in March of 2009 and ran my very first race in June that year – the Howard County Library 5K.  It was a P.R. race because the first time you race any distance it is automatically your best race time ever at that distance.  I love that.  So my next 5K wasn’t until a year later, same race (I ran 2 10Ks, 2 Half Marathons and a 10 miler in between).  That race started off as running perfection.  I was the female Meb Keflezighi. Super fast (7:30 miles at the 2 mile mark) feelin’ great, looking like a pro…  Then (dun dun dunnnnn) my bladder took the spotlight.  I had to go.  I had to go BAD.  (story here).  Suffice it to say that what could have been an amazing race turned into a mediocre (ha ha – get it?  Ochre? Yellow?) finish at 30:29.

So THIS year, I had my sights set on a BIG FAT P.R. because, well, that’s how I roll for every race.  I’m not especially well trained right now but I still run enough that I should be able to take down a 5K and then put in another 8-10 miles afterward.  Don’t get me wrong – I’m not exactly fast, but I am exceptionally competitive and that can get you faaaaar.

So I controlled my coffee intake (lesson learned) and ran my rear end off.  I gave a respectful nod to the Golden Arches as I passed, and finished my race in 25:25 (Garmin time).  That’s about an 8:14 mile.   And for this girl, that rocks.  A career P.R. for speed at any distance.

The lesson here is to USE those spot-a-pots!  Get in that long line when you GET to the race.  And then get BACK in line when you are finished.  A P.R. is best, and easiest, without the P(ee).