This past weekend I ran the Chesebro Half Marathon at the Great Race of Agoura Hills.  It was my first real race since I began training again after taking some time away from training (and exercising really).  Even though I've been involved in triathlon and endurance sports for the past 6 years, I've never really participated in running events.  Prior to this year, I'd only done a handful of running-specific events:

2011: • Bandit 30k • Valley Crest Half Marathon • Pacific Palisades 5k

2012: • Bandit 30k • LA Marathon

2014: • Valentine's Day 5k

I was really curious to test myself to see how these past couple months of training with Fortius Coaching and strength work with Fitamorphosis would play out.  Along with what was written in my Training Peaks schedule, my coach Gerardo and I briefly talked about how I would race this half marathon (half of which was on road [miles 1-3, and 10-13], and the other half on trails [miles 3-10]) during a leisurely recovery ride through Griffith Park the day before the race.  I didn’t really have a concrete race plan set up.  I just planned to go out there and run hard at my threshold pace (around a 166 HR), try to pass people on the hills, never stop, then run as hard as I could (with whatever energy I had left) during those last 3 miles on the road and to the finish.  Simple enough, right?

The plan was to get to the race at 6:00am, pick up my bib and drop off my stuff and be ready to begin warming up by 6:30am for a 7:00am race start.  But of course nothing ever goes according to plan on race morning.  We got there on time, but didn't anticipate the check-in process to be so poorly organized and taking forever.  This is a big race.  There are 2 different half marathons, a 10k, 5k, and kids run all on the same day.  So large crowds were expected.  The half marathon I was running was the first to go off, at 7:00am, a full hour before any of the other races were scheduled to start.  So why would you have a huge line of people who are racing first being checked-in in an area with the smallest amount of staff?  It doesn’t make any sense.  All these staff members were on hand to check people in, and the majority of them were only taking in 10k and 5k participants.  By the time we made our way through the line, picked up our bibs, and got to the Fortius Racing tent to drop off our stuff, it was already 6:45am.  This left me almost no time to warm up and get to the start of the race approximately 2 blocks away.

This was a little frustrating since I know how long it takes my body to warm up, and I wanted to get a fast start and earn some time on those fast first few flat road miles (say that 10x times fast).  My shortened warm-up consisted of just running up to the start line.  It was mostly uphill, so I wasn't really going fast since I didn't want to expend too much energy.  But there was no time for strides or dynamic stretching, which I've come to love.  I’ve noticed that after doing strides and dynamic stretching in track practice, I’m able to really run comfortably and fast.  So I was pretty disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to do these before this race.  Lessons learned: if packet pickup is offered a day before and located within a reasonable distance, do it.  If not, plan to get to the race even earlier than initially planned.

I spent the next couple minutes in the start corral looking for teammates to run with.  I found none.  Then at the last minute, with literally like 1 minute before the gun went off, I found Steve.  We chatted for a second, but even he wasn't ready to run.  So once the gun sounded, I took off and he hung back until he decided what he wanted to do with this bag.  The race starts off all downhill, so you have almost no choice but to go fast.  I was running like a 5:30-something pace and feeling fine.  Once it started to flatten out I slowed back to a normal, more manageable pace so my heart rate wouldn't spike.  Within a minute or two, Chris passed me, and I figured I would never see him again (though I had hoped to catch him later on in the race), then Alex caught up and we ran together for the next 3-4 miles.  Having a teammate to run with in the beginning stages of a race was helpful.  It helped put me more at ease and gave me someone to joke with (see: complain to, or with).  Since Alex and I are close to the same pace (and complain equally), it was good having him there to keep me on pace, and sometimes force me to push it a bit when I started slowing down.  It was reminiscent of LA Marathon a couple years ago when he and I ran together for most of the race.

Those first few miles were tough for me.  My calves were really tight, and both my feet became numb.  My heart rate was right where it was supposed to be, but I couldn't make my legs go any faster (both because they were tight, and because I had no feeling in them).  People were passing me.  A lot.  I didn’t really let that bother me too much though.  I kept mental notes of those that passed me (what they were wearing) and who I wanted to pass later on once I loosened up.  The chubby guy with the stupid hat and fanny-pack.  The old guy with what looked like his high school track jersey on.  And the skinny soccer mom in black yoga pants.  I knew it would only be a matter of time before I flew by them (either on one of the climbs, the steep descent, or definitely in those last 3 miles back on the road).

I made sure to not worry too much about those that passed me.  I tried to stay within myself, trusting the math that my training numbers produced, and running my own race.  Keeping an eye mostly on my heart rate, I powered up the hills, and occasionally used quick bursts of speed to pass people on the single track or up a steep hill.  Taking a look at my Garmin file, my heart rate managed to stay pretty consistent throughout the race, and my average pace was right on target for what Gerardo had estimated before the race.

I finally started feeling good and warmed up at about mile 5 (pretty standard for me), and was able to really turn it on at mile 6 and increased my pace and started passing people and leaving others behind that were with me up until that point.  I took my first (and only) Gu at about the 50 minute mark (mile 6.4), just a bit before the steepest part of the course, the Palo Comado climb.  Once we made the hairpin left turn to start the Palo Comado descent, I was able to see everyone I wanted to pass.  I knew I'd be able fly down this descent, channeling my Chumash descent at Bandit 30k from two years ago when I set the course record for that segment on Strava (it's since been broken).  I’m not sure how many people I passed, but passing them was just what I needed to build back some confidence and gain some momentum to carry me to a fast finish.

I'd run the trail portion of this course a couple weeks prior, so none of this was really new to me.  In that training run, I just did an out and back of what I though was the trail portion of the race.  I guess I turned around too early in that training run, because I was not prepared for that final little climb out of the trails and back into the neighborhood on race day.  It didn't really matter though.  I was feeling good, it was there, I had to run it, and it was another opportunity to pass more people.  And what goes up must come down, right?  There was a small descent that brought us back to the road and that helped me pick up some speed for the final 5k.

Making the left turn onto Kanan Rd. was both a welcome and painful sight.  I was happy that I only had 3 miles left to run, and I knew there wouldn't be any more climbs.  Then I realized that I had to run those last 3 miles harder, and faster than I had run all day.  I was hoping I still had something left in me to run the pace I wanted (something in the low to mid 6 min/mi range).

The one thing I always repeat to myself every race I run is, "If I can see you, I’m passing you." Easier said than done.  But I still tried to overtake and pass every person that I saw in front of me.  I might have gone a little too early, because I found myself slowing down and tiring at about mile 12, but I still managed to keep the pace under 7 min/miles.  I kept thinking to myself, "when is all that strength training I was doing gonna kick in?"  As if my body would just flip a switch and the strength training afterburners would turn on and I'd fly past everyone.  Though that didn't happen, I did use the fact that I was doing strength training as a method for passing people.  As I was picking out people ahead of me to pass, I kept telling myself (whether it was true or not) that I had one more gear in me that they didn’t have because they don't strength train and I do.  Lame I know, but it helped keep me focused, and I was eventually able to pass the elusive "Yoga Pants Soccer Mom" I was chasing all race in the last half mile.  Whether I PR'd, beat Gerardo's projection, podiumed or not, all was good in my world once I passed her (race results show 9 women finished ahead of me.  Good for them).

Right before I passed her, at the corner of Kanan Rd. and Thousand Oaks Blvd., I saw in the distance a familiar face.  A face I had been looking for all day.  Deirdre’s co-worker, Alex, is a reservist Sheriff's officer, and he was working the race that day, but we didn't know where exactly he'd be positioned.  I was looking at every law enforcement officer out there that day trying to see if it was he.  And finally, on one of the last turns, there he was.  "Officer Waddles!" I yelled out as I came into that turn.  A high-five and some words of encouragement and that was all I needed.  That little bit of adrenaline was enough to give me the push I needed to pass "Yoga Pants Soccer Mom."  Thank you "Officer Waddles" for making sure cars didn’t hit us that day, and for giving me that last push.

As I was coming into the last stretch before the finish, I looked at my watch and knew it was gonna be close.  Gerardo's projection was 1:40.  I gave it everything I had left.  Long strides, sprinting, arms pumping, weaving through the 10k finishers with strollers and kids holding their parents' hands.  I remember thinking to myself as I made the last right turn onto the grass of the finishers chute, "just don't fall."  I came across the finish line and almost barreled over an older gentleman who was volunteering.  I grabbed onto his shoulder to keep from falling over, gave him a pat on the back and walked off to get my medal, still trying to catch my breath.  I looked at my watch and I somehow managed a smile.  1:39:51 (7:38 min/mi pace).  Beating coach's projection by 9 seconds and good enough for 6th place in my age group.  Awesome!