MAC Championships and the Conclusion of Indoor

Today we finished up our indoor season at the MAC conference championships at Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti, Michigan. After bus troubles which resulted in a seven and a half hour drive on Friday, we finally made it to the field house to watch Day One of the weekend events. After an exciting 5K and 800, we all gathered to watch, what proved to be, one of the most exciting races of the weekend, the distance medley relay.

Ohio’s DMR was not the fastest seed, but was the favorite to win. The team had claimed the MAC title in 2011 and 2012, and was looking for a three-peat for 2013. Our 1200 runner got out to a quick lead, fearlessly leading the pack and putting our 400 runner in a great position. After a solid second leg, our 800 runner ran an incredibly fast 2:09, keeping the team in first place. Although our miler had some real competition for about 1200 meters, she had no problem cranking out a last quarter mile to claim the title. This was not only their third win in three years, but a new school record and a new MAC record (breaking their own record from last season.)

We headed to dinner and then back to the hotel for some shut eye (can I just say how much I’m enjoying sleeping in a queen sized bed every weekend?) We left the hotel at 11 this morning, Saturday, gearing up for round two. We had some great finishes in the combined events and field events, and our distance girls continued to impress throughout the morning. The 4×4, my only event of the meet, didn’t go off until 4:15.

I was a little nervous about only running one race. Typically, I will have at least one race, sometimes two, before I run the 4×4. Fresh legs were good, but I still had first race jitters. A few hours before the race, the coaches informed us that they were changing the order. Our fastest runner, who usually anchors, would be leading off, followed by our typical first leg. Third leg was staying the same, which left me, who usually runs second, to anchor. It was a smart move; it would keep us in contention for the first half of the race, and would hopefully keep us in the pack longer than we would be otherwise. I understood why we were doing it, but that didn’t make me any less nervous.

When I checked in, I was handed my hip numbers, and the man at the checkout table told me to “give those to the anchor.” I almost laughed out loud. He must not have thought I looked like an anchor either. We lined up, runners 2-4, on the outside of the track against the bleachers, as DeeDee set her blocks. They were off with the gun, Deeds running faster than she had all season, handing off in a 56. Kiley held her spot, running a 60, and Delaney received the baton in 4th place. When I got the baton, we were in 5th place; second to last.

I heard her footsteps before I saw her. She blew past me, 5 foot 7 at least, one of her strides equating to about three of mine. She ran fast enough to pass me, but then tucked into lane one and stayed only an arms length ahead of me. As we rounded into our second lap, she began to break and I thought for sure I had her. I pulled out on the backstretch to pass her, but right as I got on her shoulder, she dug in. All she had to do was extend her stride an inch, and she had me. It isn’t very often that I get beat in a 60m foot race at the end of a 400, but she did it. She beat me by about a half second.

I was okay though. I knew that I couldn’t have run that race any smarter or faster. I looked at the time and we had finished in 3:57.9: a season best. What else can you ask for really? Clay had my split at a 59, but a teammate of mine clocked me at a low 58. I like the sound of that much better. I later found out that Toledo had been disqualified due to a lane violation, meaning we finished 11th instead of 12th. I felt like Jennifer Lawrence earning a score of 5/10 in Silver Lining’s Playbook: I was ecstatic. It’s the little things, I suppose.

–

I have considered not running next year. Not only does it take away from time I could be spending on my studies, but it also prevents me from having time with my family. I’m alright, but not great, and I won’t be able to compete at a high level. If I didn’t come back, I bet a lot of the girls wouldn’t even notice. I bet a lot of them wouldn’t even remember my name.

This weekend changed my mind.

I never, in my wildest dreams, imagined that I would be anchoring the 4x400m relay at the MAC Indoor Championships for a Division 1 team. Standing against those bleachers, the shortest by at least six inches, I could have laughed out loud, had my nerves not rendered me silent. I feel like a girl among women, a little kid watching these athletes, and I cannot believe that I am one of them. I don’t feel like I am.

I am so happy.

Joining this team was the best decision of my life. I have never been more proud of myself. And I’m going to keep doing this until I am forced to give it up. I will not walk away again. Because I can’t move on. And I don’t want to.

So it’s been a while…

So it’s been a while…I apologize for my negligence. Unfortunately, since the beginning of December, I have been busy traveling, studying, studying some more, and taking my final exams. Wow.

Luckily for me, I am home to recoup. I have four weeks off from school this year, instead of six, which is rather bittersweet. The long break was nice, but being away from organized practices for that long, I fear, wouldn’t do much for my performance (plus, I want to get back to Athens to see the wonderful young man I like to call my boyfriend, but that’s a different story.) Four weeks is long enough for me.

Since my last post, we have run in our first two meets; the first, at Marietta College. Yes, the same Marietta College that recruited me to run two years ago. At that point in my senior year of high school, I was relatively sure that I wasn’t going to be running at the collegiate level, but one call from the coach had me reconsidering my decision. I was invited down for an official visit and an overnight stay with the team. After only 60 minutes, the duration of that phone call, I was sold.

Oh, Marietta, you almost had me, too, with your beautiful campus, indoor facility (and men’s team.) Unfortunately, first impressions aren’t your strong suit. My overnight was less than enjoyable (I’ll leave it at that), and half way through the night, my decision had been made to attend Ohio University instead. I sent the coach a very appreciative email, thanking him for the time and effort he put into my recruitment, but breaking the news that I would not be running for him the following year. I never heard from him again. With that, I knew I had made the right decision.

)That trip wasn’t a complete waste of time, though. Believe it or not, I met the young man I mentioned before during my Marietta College visit. Somehow, we both ended up at OU. I guess these things happen for a reason. But, like I said, that’s a different story.)

 

The meet was pretty low key. It was a “First Glimpse” meet for athletes and coaches to see where the team was in their training, and to see where improvements needed to be made. I was scheduled to run the open 400 and the 4×400. Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous. This was my first open 400 of my life, and I figured that no matter where I started, I could only improve.

Before the race, my coach smiled at me. “How does it feel to be back on the track?” he said.

“Interesting” was the only word I could use to describe it. Truthfully, it was like I had raced the weekend before; like I had never stopped. I was a little nervous, but it was the good kind of nervous. The excited kind of nervous; the kind of nervous that wins races.

I ran a 61.5 in my open, winning my heat and finishing second overall. Before the meet, I had made some pre-season goals, and with that time I had hit the mark right on the head. I split another 61 in the 4×400, our team running a 4:03 and getting the W. It really was a great day.

The Kent State meet the following weekend was equally as rewarding. It was a two day meet, so we left Athens at noon on Friday and made the three-hour trip in a tiny, cramped van. We arrived at the meet in time to watch the 5k and parts of the pent. At the end of day one, around 8 o’clock, we all loaded up and headed to a quirky little restaurant called Mike’s Place (hats off the the employees there for serving 20+ tired, hungry, and grumpy 20 year-olds). After dinner, we finally went to crash at our top quality hotel, where we were able to enjoy ice cold showers, which was just what we were all looking forward to. Being the weekend before finals, we spent the rest of the night studying…at least when the lights and internet weren’t shorting out. I was able to use my bed to lodge one of the lamp plugs into the outlet, which kept it from flickering too badly, and luckily nothing caught fire. Like I said, top quality.

After what was, as I’m sure you can imagine, a very relaxing night, we loaded up and headed back to the field house for day two. I was, again, running the open 400 and the 4×400, and hoping to break 60 on the 300 meter track. When I crossed the line, the clock stopped at 59.9…glitched out and the corrected itself to a 100.03. Better luck next time I guess. Our 4×400 team, having been thrown together at the last moment due to scratches, still ran a respectable time of 4:08. Both races ended in a 10th place finish overall.

I am definitely ahead of where I expected to be this early in the season, so I have set a new goal of 59. On a 400 meter track that should be attainable, but on smaller indoor tracks it will be tough. Hopefully these four weeks won’t hinder my speed too much so that I can stay on track toward that goal (no pun intended.)

A ten hurdle race is a ten hurdle race.

Above is a video that I made last spring during a particularly ambitious workout: my first attempt at the dreaded 400 hurdle. I set up and ran through the first three hurdles that occupy the first curve (hurdles on the first curve…terrifying, right?) It was a good way for me to feel out this race, to get a small idea of what it might be about. That was before I had spoken to Clay, before I had even decided to work my way onto the team. This was out of pure curiosity, and I was surprised. It occurred to me that this might not be certain death after all. I might be able to do it, and I might even be able to do it well, if I worked hard enough at it.

In high school, I was a mediocre long sprinter. In fact, I refused to run the 400 until my senior year. So, because I was running the 300 hurdle with mostly long sprinters (and, if I must say so myself, the OCC was chock full of top notch long sprinters), I needed an edge. I needed to find a way to compete with these sub-60 girls. Eventually, I found it. While the rest of the girls sprinted between but hung over each hurdle, I made up ground. I perfected my technique and I am comfortable saying that I had one of the best forms in the region. Getting over the hurdle faster meant covering ground faster, meant holding momentum and maintaining speed. It is what kept me in contention with those girls.

Since week one here in Athens, we’ve been throwing hurdles into our workouts. I’m not a huge fan of cliches, but hurdling really is like riding a bike. Once you perfect it, no matter how much time you take off, it always comes back to you. Thankfully, I was no exception, and I have been running through these workouts without a hitch. We typically only run through the first five, the first 200, during any workout, whether it be 200′s, 300′s or 400′s. Once or twice, we’ve gone through eight; an entire 300 hurdle race. Doing repeats of this feels so strange, because it is what I ran on race day in high school. It isn’t strange because it is overwhelming, but rather because of how easy it is now. That race was torturous two years ago; it just goes to show how much stronger I am now. One day, we ran through eight hurdles and then cut to lane one to finish out the 400. It didn’t hurt nearly as badly as I expected, and it was really comforting to know that, on race day, I would only have to clear two more. I was hitting times that were faster than I would have expected, and I was hitting them consistently. Talk about reassuring.

Today, though, was a real first for me. Today, we ran through the whole race. That’s right, ten hurdles. Just once, just to feel it out. I ran scared, hesitant. I cleared the tenth hurdle and crossed the line at a pace somewhere between jog and sprint, but certainly not at top speed. And to my surprise, I hit the same time I hit off of eight hurdles, five seconds short of my race day expectations. I recovered quickly and thought “man, that wasn’t so bad after all.” I’ve come a long way from that morning last spring.

Contrary to what one might think, I tend to run more efficiently with a hurdle in my path. In a hurdle race,  I can focus not on the distance, not on the other runners or the clock or my pace, but instead on getting over the next hurdle. It is a race run in ten parts, one hurdle at a time. A ten hurdle race is just that, a ten hurdle race. Thinking of it in that way, it seems much more bearable.

That first day so many months ago, I devised a strategy for the race. Today, after running it for the first time, I have a new strategy. It looks something like this:

My first goal is to break 65 seconds. My coach says that I’ll do it on my first try, easily.
I hope I can live up to his expectations, as well as my own.

October 2012 Thoughts

Our first meet is officially less than one month away. How crazy is that! This was our last full month of strictly conditioning, and I think I speak for all of us when I say, “what a relief!” We’re really starting to feel it; the toll that nine weeks of training can take. But with the promise of our first competition just four weeks away, I am ready to push myself through these practices so that, by race day, I can be my very best.

It is interesting to me that, even at this level, the routine is too much for some runners. Whether it’s injury, sickness, or an opposition to the colder weather, there seem to be fewer people at practice everyday. I understand that it is the offseason, and that it is better to take precautions now that to be SOL come outdoor, but that’s not in me. If I miss going to MACs by two hundredths of a second, I want it to be because I reached my limit, not because I skipped out on a few 300s in October. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

I’m tired, but I’m growing. Noticeably. I’m hitting times now that shock me, and I can hit the same splits fresh or fatigued, hot or cold. I’m stronger, physically and mentally. I always knew that track was 90% mental, but it is so apparent now. I’m doing things I didn’t think I was capable of, and I know I still have room for improvement.

Come indoor, I’m hoping to run the  4X400 or open 400. I’ve never run an open, so I’m interested to see how I could do, now. My first goal is to break 60, which I think is attainable. I’ve never been one to explode out of the blocks and power through the entire race. No, any 400 I’ve ever run has been reserved, a quick first curve, a slower backstretch, and a hero sprint to the end. But that isn’t my strategy anymore. What I’ve learned this month is that if you can make the mental leap between what you think is possible and what is really possible, you’ll surprise yourself. If you can be brave for just 60 seconds, miracles can happen.

“The best pace is suicide pace, and today is a good day to die.”

–Steve Prefontaine

Also, I’m on the roster! What!?

Aches, Pains, and “The Question”

Well, here we are. Summer seems to be breathing its final breaths as we complete our sixth week of training. And as the novelty begins to wear off, other things settle in: primarily exhaustion. Some days, it feels like I am living only to make it through the next workout. I will wake up in the morning, sure that the devil himself has cut the night short, aware  that the only way to evade (what seems to be) eminent death is to get that workout in. The only cure, it seems, for this exhaustion is the run. It’s a vicious cycle.

One afternoon, after a particularly taxing workout, I returned to my room, sank to the floor, and stayed there. For 30 minutes. 30 minutes, curled up on my rug, mentally and physically unable to do anything else. Maybe this is what Bruce Denton would call “Breaking Down.” I have read the 17th chapter of John L. Parker’s novel, Once A Runner, so many times that I’m sure I could recite it for you verbatim. I keep my creased, crinkled, and thoroughly loved copy in the top drawer of my dresser, for those days, the dark days, when I am asking myself “The Questions” too many times.

“…his life was most certainly focused on the Task…But at this juncture, many a runner begins to reexamine some of the previously unexamined premises. The question that plagues the runner undergoing breakdown training is: Why Am I Living Like This? The question eventually becomes: Is This Living?”

And when runners begin to do this, begin to ask themselves “The Questions” too often, they begin to, in Parker’s words, “chicken out on themselves.” I’ve seen too many people take the easy way out of a workout. I’ve witnessed too many incredible runners fall short of their own expectations, simply because they can’t handle “the gloom.” I hope to never be one of them.

My shins are bruised; not from hurdles, not from falling but simply from the run. My knees are unusually sore after last week’s agility workout in the sand pit, and don’t seem to be getting any better (if you know me at all, you know how troubling this). My lower back, which has never given me trouble in the last 19 years of athletics, has decided to protest during every session of lifting. I know that the only way for these things to feel 100% again is to take time off, but that is not an option. So I’m going to have to, as Denton would say, “‘run through’ the thing”. It is important to know the difference between “hurt” and “injured.” I hurt, sure, but until injury strikes, I will just remain hyper-aware of any changes. ”The old Injury Evasion Fandango. Did it ever end?”

Tomorrow begins week seven of fall training. In less than 50 days, I will run my first collegiate race. I mustn’t fall prey to the darkness, the gloom, the loneliness. As always, I must run on.

September 2012 Thoughts

Since I am no longer logging my miles the way I have been over the past year, my monthly recaps are going to be a bit different. I’m sure my coach wouldn’t appreciate me running through every detail of his workouts, so instead I will share what I’ve learned and how I feel about my progress. I said a sad goodbye to my hefty GPS and opted for a much more practical accessory (with the real time and, prepare yourself, a stopwatch). I’ve never trained for time, only for distance and it is an interesting change. I no longer have the ability to compare numbers, but instead I get to compare how it feels. Which is good in its own respect, I suppose.

I couldn’t be more pleased with my first month of training with this team. Not only have I met some great girls, but I think I have really proven that I belong here. I have never considered myself to be a strong runner. Smooth, maybe. Quick, sure, but not strong. Now, though, I can power through 600s, 500s, 400s, and still have the leg speed for a 200 at the end of the day. Two years ago, if my coach asked me to run these workouts, I would have–

a) laughed in her face

b) sat down and cried, or

c) all of the above.

Now, every workout is a treat. I never dreamed I would enjoy training this way, but it really is true what they say: the bigger the challenge, the bigger the reward.

Speaking of challenges, that’s what this month has been full of. The first time I really felt it was when we ran our first day of hills. Going into it, I wasn’t nervous. Hills, I thought. I can do hills. But this was no hill. This was a mountain: a 89 degree climb to an unseen destination– and that was just our warm up. When we got to the hill, it took my breath away. A field, empty and unmowed, surrounded by trees and bathed in the golden morning sunlight. It was as if the sky had opened up and the angels were singing (you know what I mean, it was an ahhh! moment). And no matter how terrifying it was, no matter how daunting this task seemed to be, lurking behind my adrenaline waiting to take me down after the first 10 steps, I smiled. What a challenge, I thought. And we ran…

I think the most important thing to remember while training is to be tough mentally and physically. In between your sets, during those few minutes of recovery time is when champions are made. To break during these moments is to false start at the big dance. To break is to hang that trail leg over the last hurdle, to break is stumble out of the blocks, to fall out of stride. You do not hang your head, but most importantly, you do not drop to your knees. A champion is not one waves to the crown before the gun, but rather one who stands the tallest at the finish, even in the face of defeat. To do any less is to disrespect the track, but even more, to disrespect yourself.

If I could give any advice, it would be to respect yourself. Respect yourself by pushing yourself every day. And I don’t mean pushing yourself toward discomfort, I mean finding that discomfort, rolling around in it, accepting it. I mean falling so far into your discomfort that there is doubt; doubt that you can’t run any faster, run any farther. I want you– no I challenge you– to run alongside that discomfort, look it dead in the eye, and beat it to the line. Because you can.

 Something in me needs to record these days, document the hours I spend training, carefully write it all down. So that, maybe someday, if or when I can no longer do this, I can look back and remember what once was possible; what I once was capable of. The extent of human potential is startling, and I choose to push it to its furthest limits, for as long as possible. And I won’t stop; will not, cannot. Refuse.