Labreque classic - confirmation, affirmation, lamentation

I think it's the bicycling that's doing it. While stretching today, I ran my hands down to grip underneath my calf and was surprised by an apparent increase in size and firmness. My thighs, too, have grown a bit. I could encircle them with two hands, finger-tips and thumb-tips touching, before, but no longer. They've also gotten firmer. Niiiice.

There is something sick about springing out of bed before dawn after only four hours of sleep in order to go run around a park. But it's less sick than sleeping a Sunday away, and so there I was, almost thankful the alarm went off, as I didn't sleep well anyway, and hustling my morning routine.

It was Thomas G. Labreque Classic race day and as usual, I had a grand master plan to follow. Despite my own doubts about them, I had set several goals:

• Wake up early enough to be able to get ready at a relaxed pace
  
• Do part of my chest PT before leaving the house (specifically the Pulmozyme and the Vest, but not the hypertonic saline)
  
• Don't forget anything vital to a good run, including being prepared for an asthma attack.
  
• Do a four-mile loop as a warm-up before the actual four-mile race
  
• Use pre-visualization before the race, along with the "highlight reel" in my head
  
• Use associative techniques during the run. No zoning out, no stray thoughts about work, house, cats, dance concerts, etc. Just stick to the here and now - keep track of distance, timing, the people around me, the signals from my body.
  
• Concentrate on good form and steady pacing, no unintentional surging.
  
• Last mile to be as strong as the first; attempt negative splits.
  
• Generate a finishing kick at the end.
  

Quite ambitious, but I felt they were attainable goals. Notice that "set a new PR" was not a goal; I had no unrealistic expectations, I think.

The weather was near perfect with bright sunshine and a mild breeze. Everybody I talked with made the exact same comment: "could be about five degrees warmer." After my warm-up loop, though, I was glad the temperature was cooler - I overdressed again and had to shed layers for the race.

I had heard my upstairs neighbor scurrying out of the house, but hadn't caught up with him until the transfer to the 6. We chatted a bit on our way up to 86th street; he was to take pictures of the Foundation kids, who were also running. It was nice to talk with him and I asked him how training for Boston is going. I am somehow ridiculously proud that I have a housemate who will be running the Boston Marathon! (He's still having plantar fasciitis problem.)

We went our separate ways at the park and I was the first person to find the baggage area and drop my stuff. It was all sand there, up in this little three-ring circus they had set up, and I was to later regret dropping my bag off so early.

I hit the road. The four-mile standard loop is not terribly difficult, even counting Cat Hill and the unexpected hilliness of the back 40. I took this leisurely and was enjoying being the only jogger out so early. I stretched my muscles at the one-mile mark, walked a bit while drinking water off the tables at the two-mile mark, and was in the middle of stretching again at about 2.5, when I was asked by a runner who appeared out of nowhere if I knew where the registration table was. I did, and tried to describe where I'd found it, but gave up and said, "Just come with me." And just like that, I had a running partner for the next fifteen minutes. We chatted a bit, me through my huffing and coughing, and I found out he was Canadian, but had been here for ten years. Running with him turned out to be the single greatest thing today, as doing so kept me going in that warm-up loop at a strong pace. We ran right up to the finish line and then parted ways, him to find his bib and me to find my bag, ditch my sweatshirt and get my bottle of HEED. I had started the loop at about 10 'til 8 and we arrived at the finish line at 20 'til 9. Good pace!

My bag was buried under a waist-high mound of luggage. It took some effort to crawl in, find it, and tug it out. The sand was getting everywhere. (Didn't help it was wet after yesterday's soaking rains.) Retreived my HEED, forgot to slug down some powersnot, and wandered over to the start line.

By my iPod's clock, the air horn didn't sound 'til 5 after 9. LATE. And then....we back-o'-the-packers (I was lined up at the 11 marker) ... went nowhere. For several minutes. Lots of minutes. There were over 5600 finishers in this race and the starting chute was narrow. Finally, we started to move, walk, jog, then really get going. It took most of the first mile to find a place in the pack where I could hold a steady strong pace.

And so the race went. I consciously kept my attention on my pacing and my form; I tried not to play the passing game and I tried not to let the hills get the best of me. Cat Hill did not defeat me, on either run! I was able to keep going today, even though after the second mile-marker (showing good splits might I say) I felt a great dip in energy and regretted not having swallowed some Hammer gel. I sucked it up and kept going, though the third-mile hills slowed me down some. I also began feeling the asthma clamping down at this point and managed to get a puff of albutereol in me (I remembered the albuterol for once!) Finally, though, we were into the fourth and last mile, which was almost all downhill. That felt really good and I was able to pick up the pace to where I'd been an hour and a half earlier. And finally, when the finish line came in to sight, I was able to ratchet up the speed and come blazing across the finish line with my hair a-fire.

Some of the other bloggers are saying the first mile was long and the fourth mile was short and in hindsight I have no reason to dispute that. The first certainly felt long, but I attributed that to the slow start and Cat Hill. The fourth felt short, but that, too, I thought was because of the downhills and because the last mile always feels short to me. But they're the ones with watches.

Eight miles! Check.
Stuck to game plan. Check.
Ran strong and true. Check.
Didn't walk (during the race). Check.
Negative splits. Check, I believe.
Feeling good at the end? Check, though my quads are very sore. (Next morning addendum: legs are sore, muscles don't want to move, even my elbows hurt. I need to make sure I stretch several times today and take it easy.)

After dry-heaving near a tree and more stretching, as I walked up the hill to retrieve my bag and go home, I decided this race ranks a very solid "Great" in the quality-of-run box. It didn't quite reach Excellent status, but this was a GREAT run! And at a mere eight miles, I am awed that my sister ran 20 yesterday. I think we will both be fine in our respective races in Nashville.

If the day was tempered by anything, it was by this morning's news that a fellow Cystic I'd known only via email passed away yesterday. Kelly Tucker finally lost her battle with CF (some months after her transplant) and she now joins her brother in peace. I found it oddly harmonic that today's run was for lung cancer research - much of which is a foundational-knowledge type research useable by other lung-disease researchers. In a way, I was running for myself today. In a very REAL way, I was running for Kelly, too. As I sat in the subway, both before and after the race, I reflected that if anything is worth doing and if its something other people can't do, then it is worth doing to the limits. Learning of Kelly's death just before heading for the race was more Sign than coincidence. It was a sign that I can't let up, that I can't go the way of Richard and Kelly and thousands of others. I can't let up in the race, or even on solo training runs. And during today's run, whenever I felt myself flagging and wanting to walk, I just didn't. I really think I have Kelly to thank for that.

Well, something went right. After so many weeks of no training, and these recent weeks of minimal training, I did a 40:23 out there, good for almost a 10-min/mile pace. (And astonishingly edging out fellow blogger Danny, who turned in a 41:17; I believe he had some shin trouble in mile 3.) Contrast today to my last four-miler three weeks ago and you'll see why I'm astounded: I shaved over seven minutes off my run time.

And I have continued to achieve today: I got my taxes done and filed! Woo-HOOOOOO! I am now enjoying my annual tradition of a very rare (for me) Jim Beam on the rocks. I deserve it.