Running Commentary

Many people ask me why I run, especially long distances.  Do I like running?  Mmmmm... some days.

I'd never been a particularly fit person, though my parents made me participate in sports in school.  I ran track (so I could sit around in skimpy clothes, get a tan and flirt with boys), played a few seasons of volleyball (no boys, so I quit) and even was a cheerleader (again, so I could sit around and flirt with boys--can you guess what was on my mind in high school?  I'm not proud of it.;)

My black belt presentation with a broken foot.

As an adult, I didn't really do much exercise either.  It wasn't until I split from my first long term relationship after graduating university that I took up martial arts.  I wanted to become more confident and able to take of myself, so I started taekwondo and tai chi.

 I started hanging around with a lot of people who ran.  "Sarah, you should race a 5k!"  they said... every single bloody day. Finally, tired of the nagging, I signed up for a 5k.  From there, I got a brief pat on the back from my friends before they urged me onto the next race.  Just 4 months after running my first 5k, I signed up to run my first marathon.

My first half marathon.

When I ran in the U.S. it was a great way to have some peace and quiet in my hectic day as a preschool teacher and after school nanny.  It gave me time to think and relax and listen to good music.  It was also pretty easy.  Marathons and shorter races don't require a lot of gear or special planning--all you really need are clothes that don't chafe and good shoes.  You don't have to buy a gym membership or pay for lessons.  It's portable--you can run anywhere, anytime.  You don't have to have any special skills. Can you put one foot in front of the other?  Great.  Let's run!

Like many newbie runners, I got cocky and made the fatal mistake of over training.  Determined to qualify for Boston, I focused all my energy on exactly how that could be accomplished.  Just when I'd finally gotten my half marathon time down to qualify for the New York marathon, I splintered my third metatarsal in my left foot.  The doctor said I most likely had multiple stress fractures in the bone that went unnoticed, which is why it shattered to pieces when pushed too far.  My doctor wanted to put a plate in it, but not having health insurance at the time, I had to let it heal naturally.

Though I did follow the doctor's instructions fairly well (by my standards) I still ran the Chicago Marathon the week after I'd been cleared to get out of my cast.  Obviously, I didn't tell him I did that.  From here was a downward spiral of trying to come back too fast, causing me innumerable problems in my left leg that sidelined me from competitive running for 3 years.

Ibigawa Marathon

Last year, I ran my first marathon since 2011.  My goal was just to finish.  I learned that if I run
slowly, and train less, I don't have as many problems.  But with these restrictions, the appeal of the marathon was lessened. If I can't run any faster than my PR time, what's the point of running yet another marathon?  So I put running on the back burner, until I started hanging out with a new group of people--trail runners.

My first triathlon, 2009.

In the U.S. I have many triathlete and marathon running friends. I've done two triathlons, one long and one short.  I despise swimming, and find the fast pace of triathlons uncomfortable.  I'm the kind of person that doesn't hit my stride in any activity until a couple miles in.  By that time in most triathlons, it's time to switch to the next activity. So triathlons were out.  Road races--also out, as per above.  In the Midwest, we don't exactly have a lot of mountains, so I'd never met any trail or
ultra runners before coming to Japan.

Just as with my friends in the U.S., my Japanese friends and other ex-pats made trails and ultras sound not only totally doable, but easy.  I realized I had found a way to re-visit running in a way that was both challenging and new!  Having trained for the marathon last year without many injury-related problems, I signed up for the Noto Hanto Suzu Ultra marathon 60K race (we'll leave out the drama surrounding the race I got "kicked out" of that I was supposed to run instead:).

I chose this race because according to the race description, it was run along the coast line of the peninsula, offering amazing views of the Japan Sea.  Living in a landlocked prefecture, I thought that sounded like a nice change of pace.  Since I was nervous about increasing my distance in combination with mountains, it also seemed like it would be flat--I mean, it's a coastline, right?

Wrong wrong wrong.  The elevation profile for the race was never uploaded to the website.  I saw it the night before in the official race guide at the explanation meeting.  It looks like this:

Having a minor panic attack about the big mountain in the middle, I decided that because it was just after the half marathon point (where I usually hit a wall anyway) it would make for a good walk break.  I planned to walk up, and run down.

It was a lot longer than it looks.  Up to the half marathon point, I was about 20 minutes ahead of schedule, with a split time of 2:12.  I climbed from 21k to 25K, and when I reached the top, my time was 3 hours.  I'd lost almost 45 minutes in 4 kilos!

The way down was even steeper than the way up, with a 14%-16% grade most of the way.  However, once reached the bottom, I turned onto the coast line and picked up some speed. Happy that the worst was behind me, I hit the 35K point in time to put me at about a 4:30 marathon.

Then I saw the mountain.  On the elevation profile, it's only a 100 meter elevation gain, but it looked like the tallest thing I'd ever seen.  And it lasted for 5 kilometers.  Called "racket road", it's known as the most difficult part of the 100K course. Yes, it was scenic, but I didn't have time to look at the scenery, because I had to get up this *&^% hill smack dab in the middle of my race that I wasn't at all expecting.  About halfway up was a photographer sitting on the side of the road taking pictures of us going up.  He motioned impatiently at me to run, and if I would have had the energy, I would have thrown something at him.  I managed to run for a few seconds, he snapped his pics, and he mistakenly told me that this was the last big hill I'd have to run.

Racket road from the top (from the race website).

Heartened, I re-planned my strategy to accommodate this unexpected time suck, realizing it was still possible to make a decent finish time as long as I didn't have to climb and descend any more mountains.  As you can see from the elevation profile, from 50K until the end of the race was rolling hills, climbing and descending almost continuously.  After walking the second big hill (the last pointy one on the elevation profile) I'd changed my race strategy to just finishing before the cutoff time.

I also discovered that anger is a powerful fuel.  I was so angry by about 50K: at myself for running a race without seeing the elevation profile, at the race director who designed the course (I also killed time imagining all the fun and painful things I'd like to do the director), for all the poor people running the 100K who had to deal with the same end to their race that I did, but for them it was from 75K to the finish... etc.  I almost lost it when we had to walk up an almost vertical hill just to see a stupid lighthouse and reach the last checkpoint.  I think the look I gave the checkpoint people when they told me I had to go all the way around the lighthouse actually frightened them.

When I saw the sign for the last 4K, all I wanted to do was finish.  I kicked it in gear and ignored the pain pretty much everywhere, and sprinted (relatively) to the end.  I passed no less than 15 people, including one incredibly annoying man who had apparently picked me out as the person he would beat.  If you run any sort of race, it often helps to set your eye on someone to either overtake later or stay ahead of.  It gives you something to do and motivation when you're feeling weak. I was apparently this guy's "someone" and it was adding to the list of things I was pissed off about. So I blew past him just after the 4K mark, and didn't see him for the rest of the race.  I also ran

Finished!

into a couple of people who had been very encouraging to me earlier in the race when I was walking up the hills and cursing everyone and everything, so I did slow down for a second to give my regards to them.  But mostly, I just imagined the start line, and stopping, and the food I was going to eat, and how good the onsen would feel and pounded through the last kilos without breaking stride.

If it wasn't for the elevation gains, I think I could have run a great race.  It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, distance-wise, and my training must have been pretty solid to be able to do a race of a difficulty level that I wasn't really prepared for.  So, it gives me a little confidence for the race I'm most nervous about--my first trail (almost) marathon, with a 3000 meter elevation gain.  From here on out it's trails and more trails in preparation for that race, and after that, we'll see about possibly tackling a 50 miler or 100K...