Motivation

As much as I love running, there are many days I find it difficult to put on my shoes and get out the door. In fact, this has been my problem for most of the spring, in spite of three races, two PRs and a team to lead and mentor. Sometimes, I find motivation in goals--a new PR, a new distance, a new course, Boston dreams. Sometimes, I find it in people and community--in running with friends, in running for a cause, in running because I can.

Today, my motivation was a bit simpler. A beautiful day and a willing dog. Yes, I should be training for Peachtree; yes, friends have lost loved ones and our fight is not over; yes, it's good for me, and once I get going, I'll be glad I did. None of those worked for me. But I couldn't waste a pretty day and those pleading eyes. Sometimes, simpler is better.

Inspiration

This morning, I woke up early (yes, me, Monday morning, early--and yes, 9:30am is early for me!) to watch the Boston Marathon. For the everyday runner, Boston is the Holy Grail--the common athlete's Olympics.

Watching the coverage this morning was inspirational. I came to running through fitness, I came to distance running through charity, and I keep running because of my passion. I love running. And if I can't be out there running, I love to watch people who love to run run (yes, there will be a quiz about how many times I've used the words "love" and "run" in this blog)!

Kara Goucher was inspirational (and clearly, the woman never has a day like I did today--no visible tummy bloat in what is pretty much a bikini), making a great run for the win and finishing third. Ryan Hall was inspirational, and he also came in third. My TNT friends were inspirational. Jennifer placed 17th overall for females. Mike tore it up at 3:20ish. Amy and Kimberly both finished under four hours. Any athlete who was there today has proven him or herself to be the best of the best. And I want to be there one day. Yes, I'm putting it out there publicly. I, Laura Scholz, want to qualify for the Boston Marathon. By the time I'm 40. That gives me six and a half years to push myself and see what I can truly accomplish in this sport.

And yet, as I was out this afternoon running my measly four miles in Memorial Park, I thought not only of Boston, but of a 10K race a few years ago in Greenville, when I was one of the last runners to finish. As in, the motorcycle was following me. And how I could've gotten discouraged, because I was essentially in last place. It wasn't an incredibly slow pace--I think I finished around 1:22:00--but I was having a bad day. But I was having the best race I could on that day, and I was proud of what I was doing.

And yes, I've come really far from that day, but I think what matters in the end is that I dared to try. And every runner who enters a race of any distance at any level will tell you that the challenge is more about getting to that start line, rather than the effort to finish.

That's why I'm so incredibly proud of my Country Music Marathon team. They've seen their fair share of rainy days and cold days (sometimes both); they've tackled fundraising in a really challenging economy; they've persevered through job losses, injuries and illness; and yet, they'll all be there on Saturday morning at the starting line! And they've raised over $150,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Everybody wins.

Race Report: ING Half Marathon

I'm in love again. With running, that is.

I took a hiatus from blogging because I was burned out. That 10K took a lot out of me, and it was frustrating to miss my mark by just a few seconds. Of course, I found out a few weeks later that ALL Peachtree runners will receive a chip. So, I've decided to focus my efforts on the 10K again once I've finished the Country Music Half Marathon in April.

It's hard to believe that three weeks ago, I considered not running the ING because my training had gotten off course. A host of factors--Chattahoochee recovery, freezing cold weather, two nasty colds and little things like a wedding and honeymoon--slowed me down. Having not run more than eight miles all winter, I set out about two weeks ago for a ten mile run to see if I would be able to gut out a half marathon. I ended up doing eleven miles in the rain around at a respectable 10:30 pace and decided to run the half as just a long training run.

The morning was cold, but thankfully, not as freezing cold as it was last year. I didn't make specific plans to run with anyone, figuring I would just run into people on the course. I met up with TNT girls Mandy (pictured above) and Sarah in my corral, and they ended up being the perfect running companions! I went into the race with no time expectations, but once I started running I knew 2:15 was well within reach, so we set a goal of 2:10.

There is something magical about running a race in Atlanta. The TNT support is amazing--purple jerseys everywhere--and I saw a ton of friends on the course, as both runners and spectators. It was exhilerating and inspiring. Angela at the TNT water stop; Mallory, Sarah, Mary and countless others along the course; and my favorite--the Peachtree Tri Club, led by triathlete extraordinaire (and neighbor and trivia partner-in-crime) Sarah McKibben, cheering us along that desolate stretch of Marietta Street.

The best part? My handsome hubby running along the course for the last half mile, yelling "I love you! You can do it! You're almost there!" and motivating me across the finish line in 2:11:44--more than ten minutes faster than my previous PR! It's just so symbolic of our relationship, of how I've grown by leaps and bounds--as a runner, and as a person--with his love and support.

This race also brought me back to the reason I started running such crazy distances in the first place. At the end of the day, I don't run for PRs or personal glory. I run for people who can't. Running down the streets of Atlanta with a sea of other purple-clad people yelling "Go Team;" hearing Tommy Owens, who lost his own daughter to cancer many years ago encourage us at the start and finish; knowing that our team raised over $160,000 for this race alone--makes every step a hopeful one, propelling us all forward to a new era when blood cancers are a thing of the past.

http://pages.teamintraining.org/ga/cmc09/lscholz

Running (A Dog's Perspective)

Hi. I'm Zoe, the cutest border collie on the planet. And I'm here to tell you about running with my Mommy.

First of all, my Mommy is a liar. Last Friday, she promised me that Auntie Jenn would take me to the park. But instead, Mommy and Daddy left me at home alone with the damn cat, and I was so stressed I ate cat litter.

The next day was really nice, too, but instead of taking me to the park, Mommy and Daddy were lazy and slept all afternoon. And I still had to spend time with that damn cat.

On Monday, Mommy told me were going to the park. I was super excited, but then Mommy and Daddy started saying a lot of bad things about Comcast, and then they left me alone with the cat. Again.

Finally, yesterday my Mommy took me to the park. I always get excited when she opens the dresser drawers with her running clothes, but I never know if she is going to take me with her.

But she told me she was, and FINALLY, she was telling the truth.

I can't decide what I love more--riding in the car or running in the park. I love the car. I get to run around and chase cars and talk to everyone and everything I see. Much better than hanging out with the damn cat.

Sometimes we see people we know at the park, like Miss Connor and her dog Harbor, or Mommy's running coach, Mr. Tommy.

We didn't see anyone we knew yesterday, but we had a great run. We did about three miles (usually, we just do two, and only know this because Mommy is constantly looking at her fancy watch), and this time, we ran a bit farther up Howell Mill by the school. One really fast runner told me I was looking good--which, of course, I know!

When we finished, Mommy took me with her to pick up the dry cleaning, which was really cool because it meant I got to spend more time in the car and--you guessed it--less time with the cat.

Race Report: Chattahoochee Challenge

My loyal readers (or reader, i.e. Sarah!) have requested a race report, which I would have done yesterday, had I not spent yesterday afternoon at Jeju Sauna in Duluth, which pretty much rendered me comatose for the next 24 hours. But that's another post...

I was super nervous on Saturday morning. I'm a racing veteran, but I've never really embraced the "racing" part of running. I enjoy being with friends and taking in the course, but I've never really run a race with a specific time goal in mind. The nerves were not helped by the fact that it was freezing cold, and we had to park a mile or so from the start line and were running a bit late (my fault, of course) and had to still pick up numbers and hit the potties (okay, I did; Tim was fine).

All this resulted in us being a bit further back than I would've liked, but I was just happy we made it to the start line in time (throughout my mini moments of panic, Tim was uber-calm and assured me that everything would be fine, which of course, it was).

As is normally the case with these races, the first mile was pretty slow. Just under 10:00 pace, and we were about 40 seconds off the actual gun time. After that, we fell into a rhythm pretty easily (with the exception of this super annoying loud guy who would NOT SHUT UP. Dude, if you're going to talk so loudly that people within a half mile radius can hear your every word, you could at least be amusing). Miles two and three were at 8:54 and 8:48, and I was really happy with the pace we were maintaining.

Tim helped us pick up the pace around mile four, and I started to feel the intensity of run, whereas the first part of the race felt like a pretty comfortable jog. We ran mile four at 8:37 pace and mile five at 8:14. Tim says he started to hurt around mile four, but he never let on. He was there by my side, and I can't say enough for what that did for my confidence and state of mind.

I started to get a bit freaked out at the end of mile five, mostly because I knew we were cutting it close and also because I'd never sustained that kind of pace before (my fastest tempo run was four miles at 9:00, and I was seriously hurting). It was also disconcerting because we passed the finish line and still had to run up the road and loop back, and it felt like an eternity before the turn around--which was preceded by the world's smallest but most evil hill, which almost knocked the wind out of me and caused me to slow my pace just slightly.

After the turnaround, there was another small hill, which Tim sprinted up in front of me (hoping to push the pace) and then he yelled "go for it," and I ran as fast and hard as I could for another half mile to the finish (my Garmin says I hit 6:01 pace at one point, but I didn't have the energy to look at the time). My lungs were in so much pain that I was convinced I was going to collapse at the finish line and need oxygen. Considering that I have asthma, and apparently, the feeling you get from sprinting all-out at a finish is the same as the onset of an asthma attack, it was a pretty scary. Luckily, I recovered almost immediately.

When I crossed the finish line, the time was 55:07, so I was slighly disappointed, as I'm 99.9% sure that the official time will be clock time and not elapsed time (my elapsed time was 54:27), and it sucks to have worked so hard and come so close to miss the Peachtree cut-off by seven seconds. Especially since I could've easily gotten those seven seconds back by being closer to the front at the start.

And then I came to my senses. My goal was to run a sub 55:00 10Kand I DID! And in the process, shaved nearly seven minutes off my 10K PR. The secondary goal was a Peachtree chip, which I still have time to do, especially now that I know I can run that pace. Tim and I are thinking about doing the Silver Comet Trail 10K on March 14 (if I can get out of a TNT GTS I'm supposed to coordinate that day). We were going to do the Shamrock 'n' Roll on March 15, but Peachtree registration is online for the first time and starts at 7:00 am that morning, and I'm not sure if or how the League can coordinate results with the Atlanta Track Club AND guarantee Peachtree entry. Which kind of blows, because the race is right around the corner AND gives me a meeting credit--and a 10K goes by a lot faster than a Junior League of Atlanta general membership meeting.

So, I consider it a successful trial run and am looking forward to trying one more 10K this spring to see if I can get a Peachtree chip. But right now, I need to focus on half marathon training, as I have the ING coming up on March 29 and just found out I can run Country Music with my team.

All in all, it was a great way to kick off the 2009 running season, and I'm looking forward to what my coach has planned for me next!

Pre-Race Jitters

I have the pre-race jitters. Not of the anxious variety, but of the jittery, restless, stuffing your face, hating the pre-race taper variety. The only thing worse than an injured runner is a tapering runner.

I did two short, easy runs this week. I did my Pilates mat class. I'm dying for a challenging workout. My body's craving food like I'm prepping for an Ironman! It's a 10K, for heaven's sake.

But I've been here before, and I know that this energy will serve me well. Bring on the carbs!

Setting the Pace

I think today's run was the most important one in all of my training for the Chattahoochee Challenge 10K. The goal was 16 x 400's--essentially, four miles of speedwork--between 8:45-8:50 pace. A pretty narrow goal (2:11-2:12 per split), so I was actually glad my iPod decided to flake out during the first set, because it really forced me to pay attention to my body and get comfortable with the pace--which, as my genius coach had worked out--is exactly the pace for a 54:30 minute 10K. It felt easy and comfortable, and I held back. I'm really feeling confident about this race and looking forward to testing myself. It's hard to believe that two years ago, my 10K time was 1:17:43. I've already bested that by 15 minutes, and now, I'm trying to shave another eight minutes off my PR (set on just three weeks of training).

This training process has been easy and very, very rewarding. I don't feel tired or burned out. I'm excited about every run. I learn something at every run. And I'm anxious to prove myself---knowing that this is just the beginning of my running career!