Karina Runs Boston

I have a lot of thoughts when I run. I decided to give them a place to live, outside my head. 

[karinarunsboston]

Take the Bridge

Four days later and  I’m still on a high from this race. Part of it is that this weekend was also the Boston Marathon and you can’t escape the thrum of excitement and energy in the city. But oh man, this race. 

For such a short race, it is SO impactful. First, there’s the mystique behind it - it’s an unsanctioned race, no course, no stopped traffic. It’s just the city, the energy, two check points, you and your run crew. Go time is in the dark, 8:30 at night.

Second, there’s the hype. There’s no information beforehand. You don’t know where the checkpoints are, and all anyone will tell you is that it’s a rush, you have to do it. Your bib is smaller than an index card, and just a number, plain, no text. There’s only 39 people running with you - 40 men, 40 women, separate heats, no waves. You know you need to book it if you don’t want to be last.

The start and finish is in the middle of the Longfellow. A huge crowd gathers, mostly runners from the run clubs being represented, some friends, everyone dancing and chattering and moving. Sid Baptista of Pioneer Run Crew, the hosts, rolls a huge speaker back and forth, to clear a path for pedestrians trying to pass, and to hype everyone up. The vibe is palpable, electric.

You have to get to the first checkpoint as fast as you can, however you can. The horn goes off, and everyone takes off. You know you’re not the fastest, so you seeded yourself towards the back, but the wave carries you and you’re already going faster than you’ve ever raced.

At the end of the bridge, the pack splits. There’s no way to describe how disconcerting it is to see women peel off to the left and right and disappear. In most races, you’re just following the pack, everyone is going the same way. You have less than a split second to decide who you’re going to follow, because you really don’t know this part of the city well, and then you just go.

Pedestrians leap out of your way and gawk at this pack of girls tearing down the sidewalk at full speed. Runners are jumping out into traffic, over benches and through lawns, whatever the seeable shortest route is. Girls who had turned down other corners pop up in front and behind you. You have no idea where you fall in the pack.

The first checkpoint is in Paul Revere Park, navigating the causeways in the dark, dodging skateboarders and late night dog walkers. You come up under the Zakim and tear down on the second checkpoint on the Cambridge Greenway, and then it’s a short(ish) sprint back to the bridge.

Coming up the bridge, you can hear the crowd and the megaphone before you see them. You run through the gauntlet of cheering, screaming, high fiving, fist pumping people, and then suddenly, you’re done.

I ran my first mile in 6:11, my fastest recorded mile to date (and in a race, no less!) The route I ran took me 2.85 miles, not even a full 5K, and I knocked it out in 19:30, just under a 7 min average mile. Very speedy for a someone like me.

All my thanks to the folks at @takethebridge for an amazing night, and to @pioneersrc for hosting. Race photo by @conorjamesphotography

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#bostonrunner #instarunners #runhappy #runlikeagirl #runnersofinstagram #igrunners #womenofrunning #runlikeagirl #runeverywhere #irunthisbody #ihavearunnersbody #heartbreakersrun #runboston #takethebridge @takethebridge @pioneersrc

[karinarunsboston]

Zion Half Marathon: Chill Zone

This race, man. When signed up, we had figured “Oh Zion, that’s only 2 hours from Vegas. It won’t be that cold.” Well - record breaking weather in the area. Zion Park got more snow than it ever has, and it stuck to boot.  ⁣ ⁣ The race was 6 degrees to start, warming up to a balmy 21 at the finish, with a headwind the whole way. ⁣ ⁣ 1:55:45, not a PR, but given the circumstances, I’m happy about it. And the views were unbeatable - chasing snow covered mountains all the way as the sun rose. ⁣ ⁣ I was also 23 seconds out of the medals (5th place) for my age group, which is a little maddening, especially since I recognized the girl’s name as the girl who finished just ahead of me. But also heartening, since I’ve never come close to placing in anything, ever. 139th place in all, out of 2200 people who started. ⁣ ⁣ The course itself is unbelievable. Worth the lining up at 6am in the freezing cold. You run from Virgin UT to Springdale, chasing the sunrise and, in my case, snow capped mountains the whole way up to the park entrance. 

Knowing I was unlikely to PR, I took the opportunity to slow down, really take in the sights, and even snap a couple photos. This mountain in particular was just breathtaking and I chased it down for the first 5 or so miles. I was sad to pass it by. 

As a Boston girl, and someone who lives at sea level, I forget sometimes that higher altitudes are a thing, and Springdale definitely has more altitude than Boston: 3900 feet more altitude, to be precise. No one bothered to remind me of this until after the race, so I’m going to go ahead and blame my lack of PR on that too.

The strange thing that I haven’t been able to figure out is that the elevation map for the course is uphill pretty much the whole way - not significantly, but the course claims to gain about 200 feet of elevation from start to finish. I kept waiting for that to kick in, but I swear I was running downhill the whole way. Not that I’m complaining, it was a nice surprise. 

Well, okay, not the whole way. When you hit the last 2 miles in Springdale, it’s all uphill to the entrance of Zion Park. That is definitely a rough way to end a half, but at least once you’re in the town, enough spectators have woken up and amassed to keep your spirts high to the finish line. 

All in all, a great race. Vacation Races did a fabulous job putting the whole thing together, and I definitely look forward to running more of their races in the future!

[karinarunsboston]

Philadelphia Marathon: Sub-4 and no excuses

If I look exhausted and puffy eyed in this photo, it’s because I’m exhausted and I cried hysterically into Ben’s neck after I crossed the finish line. Sub-4 marathon. 3:56:42, 9:02 min/mile pace.

I had three goals for Philly. One public (beat my Boston time), and two stretch goals: the first was to beat 4:15 and the second, my super stretch goal, was to break a 4 hour marathon. I didn’t tell anyone my two stretch goals.

In fact, I didn’t tell almost anyone I was running Philly. I was afraid. In a way, running Boston this year was easy - there was a built in handicap (the weather, a perfect excuse), and it was my first marathon; as long as I finished it, it was a win.

But Philly. I didn’t even sign up for it until 4 weeks ago. My training was shoddy. After Peru in August, it took me a while to get my mileage back up. I only had time for a 2 week taper. I didn’t do any speed or hill work.

I like excuses. I give myself a lot of possible excuses, so that if I don’t meet my goals, I already have a good reason lined up as to why. But I also have an obstinate, little, but very loud voice inside my head yelling, “Just do it! No excuses! Don’t be a wuss!” And she kicks my butt and keeps me going. I don’t like disappointing myself.

I wanted to run Philly, despite all of my self-sabotaging. The course is beautiful, the city is fun, and hell - I wanted to see what I could do with a marathon NOT run in a nor’ eastern.

And I showed myself. I negative split the marathon, the second half being 2 minutes faster than the first. I took almost 30 full minutes off my Boston time.  

It’s hard for me to math out how fast I need to be at mile 2, but at mile 13, I can figure how fast I need to get going to make a goal. I almost cried at mile 20 when I realized I could push myself to make a sub-4, but I didn’t want to waste the energy. And that little, loud voice keep yelling at me, the whole second half: “Not all pain is significant! Watch your form! Okay, you can walk through this water stop but then, GET YOUR BUTT MOVING.”

So, now that that’s done: Hey there, everyone, I ran the Philadelphia Marathon, and I FRICKEN RAN A SUB-4 HOUR MARATHON.

And as always, all my love and thanks to my bestest, most wonderful Benjamin, who’s amazing and endless encouragement and support and patience waiting for me hit the finish line makes this possible. I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you also to the wonderful Murrays for housing us for the weekend, feeding me all the potatoes and cookies, dealing with my weird hours and quirks, and showing up to cheer me on at mile 5. I already miss all the laughs and chucknas.

[karinarunsboston]

Boston 2018!

Worst weather since 2007: torrential rain and 30mph headwinds. Coldest weather since 1970: lows of 38F. I was soaked under my poncho before I even hit the start line and couldn’t feel my feet for the first some odd miles.

And it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I play it over and over in my head: the sudden downpours every time I thought I was “comfortably” soggy; the drenched volunteers and spectators who never stopped cheering; the glee of seeing my family and friends and getting powered up by hugs.

Hitting the half, hitting the 20, seeing the family at 22 and then flying. I felt surprisingly good: a few twinges, some discomfort, but nothing that stayed with me. I didn’t really feel the hills, I was surprised; maybe it was delirium. I did give myself a minute or two to walk one of the Newton Hills, but was afraid to give myself too much leeway, in case my legs stopped working.

Then, the last 4 miles - I felt like I was flying. I was laughing in final deluge I’d run through, and crying, hearing and seeing the ecstatic, roaring spectators. I couldn’t believe how good I felt, how strong my body felt. My body and I have a tenuous, contentious relationship, so for us to be working in tandem, to be allowed to let go and just fly - I cried and ran with all my heart.

Right on Hereford, over the street I couldn’t see what with all the discarded plastic ponchos; left on Boylston, and the finish line that was so much farther away than I thought it would be. It felt like the crowd was there just for me.

I ran the last mile in 8 minutes and 7 seconds. I negative split the marathon, running the second half almost 11 minutes faster than the first. And despite the rain and the cold, I beat my time goal of 4h 30m, finishing with a time of 4:26:22 and a 10:10 average mile.

I couldn’t have done this without the amazing support of my family and friends. To everyone who listened to me last summer when I crazily declared I was going to do this; to everyone who gave me advice about long runs and fueling and bad weather dressing; to everyone who listened to me ramble on about running and training; to everyone who donated to my fundraiser to get me to Monday; to everyone who supported me and believed in me and turned up in the pouring rain to cheer me on - THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. 💙💛💙💛

I’d be remiss if I didn’t put forth a special thanks to two amazing people:

To Coach Don, who trains the Tufts Marathon Team with the most amazing dedication and love, waking up at 3am to post mile markers and make PB&Js. I wouldn’t have even had the opportunity to run if Coach hadn’t fought for me, reclaiming a bib that should have been forfeit after a TMT member dropped out in January. So, Coach, thank you for thinking of me, keeping me in mind and fighting so hard to get me on the team and getting me through my training.

And to my most amazing Benjamin, who let me run the marathon on our SECOND WEDDING ANNIVERSARY; who never once doubted that I could do this; who started running miles with me, despite his hate of running; who was always there to carry me up or down stairs after long runs, or drop me off at early runs or pick me up when I couldn’t run all the way home, or take care of prepping for parties or dinners or cleaning up because I couldn’t move; who never wavered in his love or support or encouragement or belief in me - you are the most amazing person in the world, and I would never have done this without you. I love you so much.

[karinarunsboston]

Days that I don’t run don’t feel right. The lack of movement feels stifling. My legs wonder why we don’t move.

[karinarunsboston]

20!

Omg, I ran 20 miles.

It’s amazing to me that the body can do this.

Today started cold, and drizzly. Not a day you want to do a long run. But since you don’t get to choose your race day weather, you might as well hit the road running.

The day turned colder and rainier. And the run only went from being downhill on the way out to uphill on the way back.

Thank god for running with people! I never have before and I don’t know how I would have slogged through the miles without the two girls I ran with. Pushing through the numbness and aches and pains while talking about nachos and running gear.

My thighs were freezing and by the end of the run, we were drenched. My jacket felt 10 pounds heavier and the cuffs of my sleeves and collar had frozen. I couldn’t get my body temperature up because I didn’t have the wherewithal to change into dry clothes, so I shivered uncontrollably the whole drive home with no feeling in my palms.

But you know what? I would totally do it again.

Which is good, since I am training for a marathon.

(And that’s why people think runners are nuts. Because apparently, we are).

[karinarunsboston]

Running Thoughts: Fueling

Fueling for a marathon is hard. 

First, it was hard because it’s so opposite from what you’re conventionally taught about “good” nutrition. When fueling, it’s all, “Eat more simple carbs” and “Minimize your fiber intake” and “Have more sugar” and “Gatorade is awesome, even if it’s Martian colored!” 

So much of my life, especially as a younger girl, has always been “Don’t eat any carbs!” and “Have more fiber!” and “Don’t have sugar!” and “The more natural the better!” Everything is opposite now. I get to eat lots of bagels and pasta. Potatoes are considered a super food. I’m calorie loading like I never have before, ever, in my life. 

Second, fueling is hard for almost the same reason - I’m eating like I never have before. In some ways, it’s exhausting. I had a pile of potatoes with chicken in peanut sauce for dinner last night. I had two bowls of rice with stew and kimchi at lunch (the kimchi was so I could feel like I was entertaining something healthier). Eating my pre-long-run bagel with peanut butter and honey feels like being force fed. I look at it resentfully when it’s only half way done - and I only eat half of the whole bagel. 

All I want at this point is a Green Goddess bowl from Life Alive. 

I know, I know. Hard life.