Patricia

That Little Voice

November 17, 2015 by Patricia

The Philly Marathon is less than a week away. That means that little voice in the back of my head has started to add two cents to every mental monologue.

That little voice says, “Go, look at the 10 day forecast. It’ll probably be snowing or sleet and freezing cold. You’re going to miserable. There’s no way you’ll get through this.” I avoided looking at the 10 day forecast but finally caved. Guess what? As of 8 p.m. on Tuesday night, the forecast is calling for partly cloudy and 45 degrees.

That little voice says, “You had a stomach bug last week. You couldn’t eat for three days. There’s no way you’ll do this.” It’s true. I had a terrible stomach bug, but I’m making sure that I eat well and get a good night’s sleep every day. I’m refueling and filling my batteries to be ready.

That little voice says, “Who do you think you are? 26.2 miles? There’s no way you’re going to do that. You aren’t ready. You haven’t done enough work.” Instead, I listened to the voice of my friend Natalie. She said “Patricia, you should do the 8k on Saturday and the marathon on Sunday. That’ll be good prep for the Dopey Challenge.” So it’s true. I’m signed up for two races in two days.

That little voice likes to try to convince me that I’m not good enough or fast enough or smart enough. It doesn’t really matter what the situation is, that little voice has something to say.

In short: that little voice is a dick.

So I’ll ignore that little voice. I’ll stick my fingers in my ears and la-la-la until it stops. I’ll let other voices drown it out. I’ll speak in my own voice instead.

The Brutal Math of Marathons

November 10, 2015 by Patricia

Last year I rode in my first marathon and got a very respectable time of 4:13:00. My goal this year is to knock 13 minutes off of that. It sounds pretty simple until you start doing the math.
253 minutes to complete 26.2 miles is 9:40 per mile* which means that if I can do a 9:10 pace I can easily make my goal.

But wait…26.2 miles is if you run the course perfectly, cutting out your natural inclination to follow the line of the road. You must take every corner perfectly. You must drift a across the lanes when the road is slightly angled. You must have the perfect strategy for approaching a water station…and you must never, never, never have to go around or between other runners (that’s why the elite runners start at the front).

According to my gps, my marathon last year was 27.34 miles. That means my pace was 9:15 last year, not 9:40. It means that my average pace has to be 8:44, not 9:10.

Now let’s talk about hills: down hills** where I gain some time and the (dreaded) uphills. My fastest mile was 5:39 on a long slow down hill early in the race before lots of people caught up to me. My slowest mile was 12:19 a long slow up hill that just goes on and on and on.

And what about fatigue? The last 6 miles my pace was around 11:15.

HOW WILL I KNOW IF I’M GOING FAST ENOUGH?!?!?
I guess it all comes down to this:
• Gut it out.
• Don’t push too hard at the beginning and burn out.
• Work hard and steady the whole way.
• Get a good dinner and a good night’s sleep.
• Trust that you’ve done the work.
And aim for an 8:44 average pace.

In other maths:
Thank you for your support. I have reached 11.67% of my fundraising goal. My Dopey Challenge will be complete two months from today. If you haven’t yet and would sponsor me, that would be amazing. Click here to donate.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.

*Please forgive the rounding issues
**When I say “wheeeeeee” and “wheels on the left” and “get out of my way!”

My accidental half marathon

November 3, 2015 by Patricia

Who does a half marathon by mistake? ME!

This weekend was the last big ride before tapering for the Philadelphia Marathon on November 22nd, so I planned to ride 22* miles. I knew that the Rock n Roll half was going on so it might be crowded, but I rode forth…undaunted!

I saw runners going right past my door, but headed to 16th & Chestnut to meet Philly Achilles at 9:00 am. We headed out onto the path and started our mileage. I stayed with the group for a while but realized that I needed 18 more miles and I’d better get going. The loop is a beautiful 8.1 mile path from the Philadelphia Museum of Art along one side of the river and back.

I headed up Kelly Drive towards the Falls River Bridge which was following the trail of empty paper cups and shed hoodies. About halfway up, I ran into the sweep truck**. Then I started passing runners and walkers and bands and cheering and excitement. When I reached the bridge (at the tippy top of the map there) I wondered if I could lap the sweep truck. Could I do the 8 miles fast enough to pass the sweep truck again? There was only one way to find out: grind it!

As I reached the place I passed the truck the first time I thought I was out of luck. I couldn’t see anybody on the other side of the river and the clean up crews were sweeping the street. It felt like a sad party and I had stayed too long, but I still had another 5 miles to finish out. I made it to the bridge and they were just taking down the stage there (did I mention this was the Rock n Roll half?). I kept pushing and the next stage still had the band breaking down. Then ahead of me: I saw the truck!

There was one women limping along in front of it. She was NOT going to stop. She might be limping but she was still moving and moving fast enough to stay on the pace. I passed by a lot of people: some walking, some running, some laughing but most just gave off an air of determination.

It wasn’t far to the end of the course when I noticed a woman that I’d seen on the first lap. She was obviously struggling, but gutting it out. I did what other runners have done for me (especially on hills) and matched her pace and gave her a “way to go runner, you’ve got this.” She looked up and barely smiled but made eye contact and upped her pace. I stuck by her and didn’t notice that we had come to the chute*.

The chute is the end of the race. There are fences set up to keep spectators off the course and runners on the course. There is no way to turn around once you are in it. There’s a spotter so the announcer can congratulate people as they cross the finish line. He was pretty confused since I was unidentified, but he cheered me in. I crossed the finish line. Somebody handed me a bottle of water. Somebody else handed me a power bar. A third person handed me a medal. I tried to decline since I wasn’t registered but she asked if I’d done the miles. When I said yes, she said, “Then here is your medal.”

So anonymous woman who ran with me to the finish line: “Hi! Congratulations! You disappeared in the crowd so I didn’t get to tell you that.”

Anybody want to see my medal?

*I ended up doing 23.5 miles. I’m ready for you Philly.

**The sweep truck follows the back of a race. Anyone who isn’t on pace to finish in the time limit is swept up.

In the beginning…

October 27, 2015 by Patricia

There was fright.

Welcome to a little ride down memory lane. In May of 2011, I started a journey that I had no idea was leading to my Dopey Challenge.

I spotted my new ride:

I was a little nervous at first:

But got used to it pretty quickly:

The bike came home with me.

It took a little trip to the bike shop for a tune up and safety flags.

The first ride under the watchful eyes of one of Philadelphia's murals. — My first ride was under the watchful eyes of one of Philadelphia’s murals.

It’s been an amazing 4.5 years since that first ride around the parking lot. Here is to 4.5 more and I hope all of you do something that puts that big a smile on your face.

On the road again…

October 20, 2015 by Patricia

I didn’t go as far as I was planning this weekend, but there’s a reason for that. My friend Tom got his new handcycle!

Tom has been riding with Achilles for a few months on the Philly Achilles hand cycle. He is hardcore and decided that he needed his own cycle. After some fundraising and a generous donation, his new cycle was ready for its maiden voyage. I was lucky enough to get to go with him.

I recognized some of what I felt when I got to ride the first time. I’m betting that he thought some of these same thoughts:

Holy crow! This is amazing!
I’m going fast under my own power!
This hill sucks!
This could be addicting…what have I gotten myself into?

More people should get this opportunity. They shouldn’t have to do it the hard way. So this is one way to try to make it easier. I’m blogging and riding and asking for sponsorship so that we can have the equipment for smiles like these.

Sponsor me!