51%

From Saturday, 12.22.2006:
My plan was to run a 16-miler with the team, shower, get in the car, and be in OKC by 4 p.m. for Christmas with the Farrells. A tight schedule, but doable.

A River Market run is among my favorites. It's pleasant to start and finish in the hustle and bustle of downtown. When we head out in the dark at 6 a.m., vendors are just arriving with their wares. Upon return, the market is hopping with customers. Runners trickle in and then linger, debating about what treat to buy inside...cookies from Community Bakery? Mochas from Andina's? It's all so tempting when you've created a 1000+ calorie deficit by 9 a.m.

Also, on a long route like this, we get up into the hills of Cammack Village, which are literally a pain in the butt, but rewarding to conquer.

Tom and Chris were both there and I ran with them. Despite a comfortable 11:00 first mile, followed by a relatively easy 10: pace up Markham and Kavanaugh, it took an awfully long time to get loose. Hamstrings were tight. Not painful...they just felt like rubber band balls in the backs of my legs instead of the long, sinewy, graceful muscles I wish them to be.

Somewhere in Hillcrest, around mile 5, we had fun testing the digital speed warning sign on Kavanaugh (in the big uphill curve before Cantrell). It blinked back and forth between 5 and 6 mph as our group passed. Still, I was thinking pretty hard about turning around. "Screw this," I thought, "It's Christmas. I'm not feeling great and I need to get on the road anyway." (Little did I know I was probably carrying cold virus germs that day).

Fortunately, when running with others, I can't wallow in self-pity very long or I won't keep up. Keeping up takes as much mental focus as it does physical discipline. I shoved the whiny voice to the back of my mind and kept going.

Up on Sunset, around mile 7, the voice piped up again. This wasn't fun and I still wasn't loose. I said something about this out loud and Tom smarted back:

"Farrell, you know what your problem is? You always feel bad and act all slow and stiff until halfway. As soon as you hit that mark, though, and your brain knows that we're no longer running away from the car, but toward it, you get all cheery and feel just fine."

He grinned. I grinned. He was right. I'd never really noticed it. It's good to know. If I can complete 51% of any course, I can hang.

I need to remember this when we hit the 13.1 mark at the Capitol on race day and start that steady 3-mile elevation gain up Markham and Kavanaugh to the Mount.

At mile 9, I "miraculously" felt better. Found a groove. Even with a long water/stretch stop at Kavanaugh and Cantrell and a long walk up the Markham hill in front of the School for the Deaf (Chris was having a cramp), we did our 16--16.2 actually, because I believe Tom's Garmin--in 2:47.

There really aren't words for the sense of accomplishment I feel on days like this. It's not about bragging rights for completing the mileage or hitting any certain pace time. This just about me beating me. It feels amazing when I am able to overcome all the doubts and anxiety that creep in and tell me to give it up.

I owe a ton of gratitude to Tom and Chris, for letting me tag along with them this year, and for pushing me. Especially to Tom for all the encouragement. I am so fortunate to be able to run, and to have the opportunity to train with good people who will stick with me 100% of the way even though I'm only decent company for the second half.