Race Report: The Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon

Going into this marathon, I knew two things....
1. It was going to be a training run for me.
2. It was going hurt.

And now... two days later I can attest that it was both of those things... but it was also a lot of fun.

Every marathon I've ran has been an interesting experience. I LOVE traveling to new places and exploring them by running through them during the middle of a race. This is why the idea of running a marathon in every state is such an important goal for me. So, in my head... I kind of downplayed this race. No big build-up. Running in the same park I train in a couple times a month... nothing special. Just heading out to the park for a long training run.

I was wrong.

The packet pickup went very smoothly on Saturday afternoon... I picked up my packet and was pleased with the goodies I received for my minimal entry fee (I think it was a $60 race?).

The Loot:

1 long sleeve tech tee with my name printed on the front. No ads, very classy, my favorite race shirt to date! A short sleeve t-shirt (designed by my friend and running buddy, Matt!!) That is a spoof on Star Wars (May the hills be with you). Very cool! And then a monkey sticker, tattoo and some various granola bars and oatmeal from a company with the name Monkey (Monkey Bars= granola bars, Monkey brains=oatmeal). I thought the bibs were really cool. My number, 641, will always be my number now if I decide to run the race again. I loved the black color of the bib.

On my way home from the packet pickup, I stopped and picked up my standard pre-race meal of pizza from a new place in town (Jets Pizza: It was okay. Kinda of a mediocre crust and I didn't like the cheese on the pizza at all. It was like rubbery and gross). And settled in at home to watch the Vandy/UT football game before I retired to my own bed for the evening.

I slept well and woke up around 5:30. Since, I didn't have to leave my house till 7ish, I went ahead and guzzled some water, ate a yogurt and a banana and tried on about 20 different tops. The weather forecast was for perfect race conditions: Overcast, in the high 40s, low 50s, with a SLIGHT possibility of rain. After first deciding on a long sleeve tech tee, then changing into a short sleeve tech tee, I finally decided on a sleeveless top that is kind of thick.

Ahhhh the small race. I pulled up, parked literally about 50 yards from the start/finish line and made my way to the porta potties. There was lots of nervous chatter going on... just like any pre-race. But the best thing... we were all running the same race. And EVERYONE was nervous.

This race definitely carries a hint of mystique to it. It's a hilly course. Remember me always talking about the 11.2? Well, you not only get to run that bitch once during the race... you get to run it twice! In both directions! At least I had a vague idea of what to expect, being a home turf race.  Those poor out of town bastards... I'm sorry for you.

Before the start of the race... they had group pictures for Maniacs and a Running Ahead Forum Group and also for those people who've ran all 4 (now) of the Monkey Marathons (sadly, I missed the Maniacs photo op! boooo!!). After all the pics were taken, it was time to get started...

The first 10 miles of the race, FLEW by. I was consistently keeping around a 9:45/10:00 mile pace. I would pause briefly at water stops (starting around the 3rd mile, I consistently stopped at about every water station for a quick gulp of water or gatorade). Around mile 5ish I heard a guy with a bullhorn saying annoying things like... "it's a beautiful morning." etc. etc. (Annoying because I was in the middle of my least favorite hill in the park (the dreaded 9 mile hill) and the morning didn't feel that damn beautiful). By the time I reached the bullhorn man. I probably gave him a half smile (I did appreciate his enthusiasm) and a half eat shit look (I was wishing I was on the sidelines). A few moments after I passed him I heard him say... Amy?! and he ran up next to me... "Amy?! Twenty-six point two Amy?" Haha. Of course. I just gave one of my readers the stink-eye. Awesome. Anyway... it turned out to be Old Man (which... dude... with that name I was picturing you WAY older)! Thanks for volunteering and talking to me despite the eat-shit look I gave you! I promise, I'm normally a nice girl.

I was feeling good, despite the fact that I was climbing up what I always find to be one of the hardest hills in the park (the first mile if you're doing the 11.2). I was cracking jokes about a kid in a stroller having the right idea (the park was still open to regular folks and traffic). A couple of girls caught up with me... one girl said... "you look familiar." I looked at her.. and we realized that we had met at the Grizzly Marathon back in August! And the girl she was running with, I had met at the Beer Mile! I was secretly stoked to be semi-keeping up with these two fast and accomplished runners... and then I realized they weren't running the race...  ahhhh well. (And, I didn't keep up with them long... they smoked me).

Around mile 11ish (?) I heard someone calling my name as I approached a group of people hanging out a Deep Wells. I kept looking around and couldn't figure out who it was and then I saw someone clapping and yelling and I realized that it was my running pal, Anonymous Commenter! I stopped at the water station for a quick drink and we chatted for a second, before I took off towards one of the worst hills in the park (3 mile hill). Seeing a friendly face definitely helped me get up that beast of a hill.

By the time I saw Matt at mile marker 12, I was still feeling okay... but, I could tell that I was losing some momentum. The miles between 12 and 14 sucked. Really sucked. It's generally one of the least favorite parts of the park for me, AND we ran a special little loop that I normally don't run and not knowing what to expect there and being out of familiar surroundings threw me for a loop.

At the half mark, I was at 2:16.

That's right. I ran a half marathon at Percy Warner Park in 2:16, with.. really... minimal effort. HOT DAMN.

Sadly... that's not the end of the story... it's merely the beginning of the story: wherein the wheels start falling off...

At mile 14, Matt had graciously volunteered (on his own accord!) to run the rest of the race course with me! So, that gave me a much needed spike in adrenaline. I had prepped him earlier in the day... "all bets are off dude. I can't be held responsible for any injuries you might sustain during this... be it physical or emotional. There could be yelling fits filled with expletives, I could hit you, trip you, or push you off the side of a hill if you get on my nerves, and there could be crying... that's right, I might make you cry." He accepted regardless of the warning.

I remember around mile 15 or so, we had a 9:30 mile. Granted it was mostly downhill... but I was kind of like.. whoooaaa nelly. Let's dial it back a bit. By mile 16... I was taking walk breaks. I literally held off as long as I thought I could (though... if maybe I could have made myself just slow down a bit, I might could have lasted longer) because I knew... once I started walking.. it's hard for me to get back into a constant routine of running.

Around mile 18 (at the stone gates) I heard my name being called again... and it was my NashMash teammate Lori!! Again, it was awesome to see a friendly face. It was also at this water station that I got a fistbump from a dude dressed up in a Confederate General Costume and I got hit on the head with a wand by the "endurance fairy." I started up the back side of a tough hill (9 mile) expecting it to not be so bad... it's usually not. That day it was. Then again... I'm not usually running it after running 18 miles.

We walked up the.whole.damn.thing. It was awful. I knew I couldnt maintain any kind of momentum running up the hill, so I just stuck to walking. Part of the problem for me... that I realized in this race... if people around me are walking (particularly late in a marathon) sometimes I feel like I have to walk, too. (Didn't happen in St. Louis, I was trucking it to the finish there). So... everyone's walking... and I'm like... well.. if that dude ahead of me, who looks like a fast runner is walking.. then... I should be walking, too! WRONG.

Anyway.. there was one minor hill towards the top of the hill and I told Matt... I'm running to the top. And I did. And at the top, I could barely jog down because that hill had trashed my legs. Ugh.

At this point in the race, I was probably walking more than I was running.. we had some 13:30 miles. I stopped at water station 23 to chat for a bit with two of my relay team members who were volunteering... and that was awesome. (Some other guy at that water stop tried to tell me that there weren't any more hills. He was lying and I called him out on it. Seriously... I found this race to be the worst about that. The volunteers were AWESOME, but they were all stinking liars about the hills. Luckily, I knew better) :)

I realized that I was going to have a chance to finish in under 5 hours. My main goal. The last 1.2 miles I ran the whole way. Matt was great. He ran a little ahead of me... like a rabbit and I just kept concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other... finally we made the turn off and hit the grass. I knew there was only a 1/3 of mile left at that point... I climbed the last hill and started kicking up any last bit I still had.

Here I am! Note... two relay teammates there!

It kind of sucked, because I didn't feel comfortable looking up and enjoying the finish line (although I did hear and see Lori yelling my name again!!!) because I didn't want to trip and fall (the grass). But I crossed the finish line and as they were tearing off my bib I saw my mom come into the shute followed by my dad! It was the first race that he'd seen me in and I was thrilled to see him at the finish line!

Finished!!

I was emotional. And thirsty. I hugged my parents... fought back the tears and sought out some gatorade. Which was empty, so I had to go to my car to get some. (Luckily I got that SWEET parking spot).

My official time was 4:57:03

I talked to a few people after the race, but was craving my celebratory milkshake so much that I ended up leaving fairly soon after the race.

It was a great race... and I'll tell you why... because of the people. Thanks to all the volunteers (especially the ones I know.. Matt, Grady, and Edward) It was awesome to have friends at water stations to talk to and get encourangement from. Thanks to Old Man for standing out there and encouraging us runners. Thanks to Steve,  Lori, the confederate dress up dude and the endurance fairy. Thanks to Tanya for making me feel like a pansy cause I wasn't pounding the beer like she was (in my defense, she had finished the race an HOUR ahead of me). Thanks to Elly, the Nashville Striders Photographer for always being positioned on a downhill or straightaway.

Thanks to Matt for sticking with me through those last 12 miles. Thanks for not being annoying and making me have to resort to pushing you off the side of Luke Lea.

Thanks to my parents for making it out! It was special to have you both you there!

And thanks to Trent, the race director, for taking the time to make this such a great event!

I have a feeling I'll be back next year!

Side Note: When I walked back into my place on Sunday after the race, I was greeted to this:

This is what trying to figure out what to wear to a marathon on race morning looks like.

F*%#! That was kinda hard.

Yes, I survived. (And yes, I was so ready at the end of the race that I forgot to take a picture until I got home. Ugh).

It was tough, but really fun, too.

Official time: 4:57:03.

Details to come...

# 8, on the clock...

Well folks, it's finally here. After months of talking about it, my 8th marathon is upon me. Sunday morning I will be running this little marathon: The Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon. It's slogan? "Not flat. Not fast. Not certified." The field is limited to 200, which is right up my alley. We all know I hate people and being around them (at races. well, mostly just at races).

I am running this as a training run for the 50k in January and for Rocket City in a few weeks, but I feel like it's necessary for me to come up with a few goals. Otherwise... I'm likely to walk the whole damn thing and be done sometime around 11pm on Sunday.

BEST POSSIBLE SCENARIO GOAL: Better than 4:45. This will only happen if the entire bottom half of my body is possessed by God immediately prior to the race. notbloodylikely.

AWESOME SCENARIO GOAL: Finish under 5:00. I mean, let's be honest... it's a training run. I dont need to be busting out 9:30 splits (hahahhaha.. like I'm worried about that). I just need to take it easy and get the miles in. It's just a training run that I get a shirt, medal and beer afterwards.

GOOD SCENARIO GOAL: Beat my Eugene Marathon time (which was something like 5:16).worstraceever.

LOWEST EXPECTATION GOAL: I'd like to beat my Madison Marathon time of 5:22. I mean, that race was was more difficult... PLUS I had ran another marathon the day before AND partied like a rock star the entire week prior.

But, overall... I just want to have fun.

Race report (or obituary) next week!

A Tad Overdue, I'd say...

So, yeah... the Team Nashville 10 miler didn't go so well for me. But, it wasn't a total loss. In fact, it was during this death march that I might have identified what my freaking problem is.

I haven't ran well or fast since I got back from my vacation to Montana. I hadn't really thought about it, until now, but it's true. My runs have been sluggish and fatigue-filled. I've been very pansy-assed. I've taken many walk breaks during runs, or skipped out early. It's not been good. And... I guess I've been in denial about it. Until about a month ago, I just blamed everything on the heat. But, that's no longer a pertinent excuse. There's gotta be something else going on.

And I realized two things...

1. Shoes. When I got back from Montana, both of my pairs of shoes were at about 700ish? (I can't really remember) miles. I kept thinking that once something started feeling tweaky (like my IT band) that I'd buy a new pair... nothing ever hurt and now both pairs are around at almost 1200 miles. Um... That can't be good.

2. High-blood pressure Meds. The week after I got back from Montana I was diagnosed with hypertension and started taking a very low dosage of medicine to help it (although... as of about 6 weeks ago, it wasn't helping to lower it, at all). I'm not sure if this could have any effect on my running or not... but, it is something different in my body.

It's not that I'm looking for an excuse here. Because I'm not (well... maybe I am a little... BUT, I want to fix the problem, not just use it as an excuse). I can just tell that something isn't right with my running. So... anyway... I decided then and there that I HAD to buy a new pair of shoes. After the race, I headed over to my favorite local running store and picked up a new pair of my beloved ASICS Gel Nimbus... and they also had some ASICS trail shoes on sale that I picked up as well...

I'm hoping that this proves to be the solution to my sucky running. I gotta say... it feels REALLY weird to have new shoes on (especially since I haven't ran in new shoes since like March). I've only worn them twice on short runs (taper time... ugh). But, they feel pretty good and my legs feel good. The whole time though, I feel like such a freaking clydesdale. I feel like my strides are soooo noisy. Like every step I take is a HUGE thud noise. I guess the cushioning was so worn down on my old shoes that they were quiet enough to sneak up on anyone. Anyway, I can't help but think that I need to invest in some Kitten Mittons for myself:



If this doesn't work... I guess it will be time to examine whether or not my meds can be having an effect on my running. I do think that this will make a huge difference... even if it's just a placebo-effect boost, I'll take it!

Race Report: Team Nashville 10-Miler

AKA.. the race that humbled my cocky ass.

So, yeah... Friday I was feeling all high on my horse... that the reason I was running slow, wasn't because I am slow. No way... it's because I'm lazy. Which meant, in my mind... that all I had to do was flip the lazy switch off and I'd be back to PRing in races occasionally. And I assumed one of these such occasions would be at Saturday's Team Nashville 10-miler.

Folks, I was wrong. On both accounts.

It was a cool morning, so I decided to do a little easy warm-up to get my legs ready to go. I was able to get in 1.5 miles and then headed to the start line where I hooked up with Melanie and a friend of hers. I started off fast. In my head I was all... yeah, I can do this. I can run a fast race. And for the first 2 miles I felt okay. I kept telling myself... "of course you don't feel awesome. you're in a race. you're not supposed to feel awesome." But by about mile 3 I could feel that I was going to crash and burn and it officially happened somewhere around mile 4. I urged Melanie to go on without me, and she very nicely asked if I was going to be okay, etc... but I assured I was and told her to go on and get some points (grand prix points). She took off and I tried to keep picking up the pace every so often. But, it just wasn't there.

Around mile 6, as I was getting passed by men and women in their 60s and 70s, I thought about the last few races I've ran...
The Bourbon Chase
The Shelby Bottoms 15k
The Christie Cookie 5k

And there was a common theme throughout all of them... my running in them SUCKED. I've had dead legs, low energy, and ended up with disappointing times in them. So... my next thought was... why am I sucking at races this fall? I trained hard all summer with high mileage in hot temps... I assumed that that would only help me during fall racing season. Yet, it seems there's something else going on.

Something isn't right with my running, right now.

During the race, it dawned on me... I haven't ran well since I got back from Montana. And there are a couple of things since then that could be making some difference... (more on those things tomorrow).

I ended up finishing the race with a decent-ish time of around 1:33:18. Which is only 2 minutes slower than my last year's race time (although, last year I went into the race WANTING to run it easy). I also ended up being sore the next day (and still today!). Particularly the upper portion of my left quadracep. Booo.

At the finish line...

I didn't win any awards (obvs)... although Melanie picked up 2nd in our age group!!!!! But, I did manage to unknowingly get photographed a million times at the awards ceremony...

Sorry to all you winners out there... Sorry I jacked up your pictures with my squinty-eyed scowl.

 Although... luckily I didn't jack up Melanie's picture...

Kick My Ass, Please.

You know those runs where you feel like you're running so godforsaken slow? Where it feels like with each step you're running through a pool of molasses? You're too disheartened to look at your watch, cause you're afraid to look down and see that you're maintaining a minute per mile slower than your average?

I had one of those runs yesterday morning.

I got caught a red light with about 1/4 of a mile left and I decided to go ahead and glance down at my watch, since I was almost finished anyway.

And I was actually running about 30 seconds per mile faster than I normally do! That was an unexpected surprise.

But, it got me thinking... that 30 seconds faster, was still only around a 9:15 mile. And I can't help but think back to earlier in the year, when I was running 8:45 and 8:30 on my shorter training runs. Hell, I ran a half marathon averaging 8:30 pace back in February. (For comparison, the 15k I ran in September, I averaged just under a 9:00 mile)

Now, I realize that I shifted my focus from speed to mileage, but if I'm being honest here... I thought that in the long run (pun not intended), that would actually make me faster!  And, I think it will. But, I didn't dream that it would make me slower! But, I don't think it has... I don't think I've gotten slower, I think I've gotten lazy. I think I've just given myself the mindset (which is easy to do in the heat of TN summers) that... as long as I'm getting in the miles... who cares how fast it is? And that's fine. For LONG runs. But, I should be pushing myself a little more in general.

And, honestly, it doesn't bother me all that much. I truly do love running, no matter how fast or how slow I am. But, I gotta say... that this isn't the direction that I wanted to head towards. And I think I've identified the problem, because I've been in this same rut before and I shook myself out of it when I started running with Vandy-Montana last winter.

Sure, I have running partners now and they are all awesome to run with and they all have become friends that I can hang out with outside of running. They're perfect running partners. They slow down for me, when I need it, they join me for all of or part of my long runs. They encourage me and never doubt me when I come up crazy ideas. And they're all fun, cool people... more than running partners, they're friends. But, they don't kick my ass. And, honestly... it's not their job to kick my ass.

The difference, I guess, is that Vandy-Montana is one of my best friends. We bust each other's balls incessantly about everything. I know, without a doubt, that if we're running and I stop to walk... he's going to get pissed (not pissed in a bad way... pissed in a good way) and so I always push myself as far as I can go before I stop to walk. He keeps me from being lazy.

So, this is a plea*. A plea for an intervention. I know my running is my responsibility and I LOVE that my friends are so nice and understanding. And I know that I always give you some lame excuse**, but from now on... anyone who runs with me, please break the cycle. Stop enabling my slow ass-ness (because, let's face it... I'm holding you all back when we're running). In other words: kick my ass. Please pick up the pace on me. If I can run 13 miles at an 8:30 pace, I most certainly can run 6 miles on a Tuesday at 8:30 or better. Summer's over... I can't use the heat as an excuse anymore. Don't adjust your pace to run with me. I know you're trying to be nice (I do the exact same thing when I run with people with a slower pace than me), but I'm lazy when people are nice to me and I abuse and take advantage of the nice-ness. And in return for kicking my ass, I promise to buck up and not bitch and moan and talk about how I'm going to die, etc... as much as I usually do (or at least I'll try).

*I am soooooo going to regret this, aren't I?
**Except stomach excuses. Those are real, unfortunately. I never cry wolf on stomach issues.

Another lesson of Ultras...

As you all know… (because I’ve mentioned it non-stop since I signed up), I’m registered for a 50k race in January. The SwampStomper 50k outside of Memphis. This is my first attempt into the ultrarunning world. And while I’m super scared out of my freaking mind excited about the race, I realize that this going to be almost like starting out in running again. There are lots of things that are different about ultrarunning and even more things that are different about trail running. So, yeah, I’m excited to get into it and learn more about it (yeah, I’m excited to learn more about it… not necessarily excited to run 50k on a single track trail).

I figured the first few things I’d learn while thinking about my training would be things like… how to fuel up, how to train, how to recover, etc. So, I was pretty surprised that my next lesson (after learning to sign up for the races early) was in math. Or, in a lack thereof, I should say.

How many times have you been asked the question that all non-runners love to ask… “how far was that marathon?” or its various other incarnations (Did you run that 5k marathon this weekend? Et al). A zillion right? I mean, it doesn’t bother me. Why should non-runners know how long various races are? (Although, come on… at least know that all marathons are the same distance. Am I right?).

Now… I’m no math whiz*, but I do know this one basic calculation:

1 kilometer= .62 miles.

So, using that knowledge… I can easily figure out how long a 12k race is, or a 20k. 7.44 miles and 12.4 miles, respectively. Easy, no?

I used this knowledge to calculate the distance of a 50k. 50k= 31 miles. Awesome. Less than 5 miles more than a marathon. No biggie. Right? So, the other day I was perusing the FAQ page for the event and I saw this question:

What are the true distances of these races?

Ummm… ok, I think to myself. That’s an odd question for a race FAQ. And then I see the answer…

The 50K is 32.6 miles, and the 25K is 16.3 miles.

Ummm… excuse me? What’s that?

I read it again,

The 50K is 32.6 miles...

WHAT THE HELL? 32.6 miles is like… a… 52.5k! Where did that extra 1.6 miles come from?

Amy: Welcome to the world of ultrarunning… it’s not an exact math.

So, apparently, ultrarunners don’t give two shits about bragging to their friends about how far they’ve ran like I do. Apparently, calling it a 50k and just completely forgetting about those last measly 1.6 miles is standard procedure. What universe is this??? Are you serious? The tee shirt that I receive from this race (that I will probably wear for 10 days straight after the race) will be LYING to all those people who see it. Because… guess what? I’ll be even MORE bad-ass than that tee shirt implies. I didn’t just run a 50k. Hells no, I ran a 52.5k! (This is all assuming that I survive the race and finish it, obviously). Don’t deny me any of my bad-ass-ness!!

I mean, I get it… it’s cool. These ultrarunners are totally chill and aren’t out there to brag and get their props. They’re just out there to run and be in nature and all that shit. But, I’m not like that… I thrive on bragging to beotches about how freaking hardcore I am.

I’m thinking I’ll just use some masking tape… cover over the 50k and write in 52.5k on the tee shirt**. I mean… just to be accurate, ya know?

Nevermind the fact that I’ve got to run another 1.6 miles***. Sheesh.

Lesson #2 learned: Always read the FAQs or look closely at the course map before you sign up for an ultra race.

*No comments from the peanut gallery, please.
**Classy all the way, baby. That's how I roll.
***Lest I forget the REAL issue at stake. Another 1.6 miles? Ugh.