Running

This is to all the marathon spouses.

| cheriarmour

Time to shift the focus of the blog. There is someone I feel like deserves a great big hug, kiss, and a thank you from me.

And I think some of you marathoners out there have a similar person in your lives.

Saturday, as I barfed my way though the final 9 of my marathon, there was someone on my mind.  Austin had dropped me off in the freezing cold, held my things, and reassured me all morning as I worried in Elon.  I know it wasn’t warm, and he fielded two mid-marathon phone calls as I sobbed and told him that I was throwing up, in grotesque detail, with incredible strength and calm.

“Okay love you so much. You can do this”

“Almost there babe. Love you”

A few of the reassuring texts I received from him, not to mention the kind words he passed along as I called him from the port-a-john.  Yep.

I raise a glass to you, marathon spouses.  Those of you who encourage through training, show up for race day, hold all the stuff, jangle a cowbell, and act like you’re happy to see us, even though you’ve been waiting in the cold, bored for hours?  We love you.  We appreciate you.  And we can’t wait for the day when we can do the same for you.

kiss

Greensboro Marathon – DONE

| cheriarmour

I have never been so glad to be done with a race in my entire life.

Following the conclusion of the race, I kept running, and ran directly into the medical tent, where I calmly informed the EMT that I needed fluids.

Here’s how it went down. 

Saturday morning, I woke up around 5 with a stomachache.  SHOOT!  So I ran down to the car, grabbed some Tums and a Prilosec, and waited for them to kick in.  They kinda seemed to, and by the time we’d made our way to a very chilly start line, I decided that I felt okay.  And off we went.

It was cold, but not unbearably so.  I’d dressed perfectly. A thin, long-sleeved Brooks top, a Brooks Nightlife Vest, stuffed to the gills with goodies, gloves, and 3/4ths tights.  On the feet were the Glycerin 11 (an excellent choice of a shoe), and some Smartwool socks.  When it felt like my hands were going to fall off, I palmed my boobs under the vest, and as silly as it seems, the warmth made the ride really comfortable.

I stuck to the plan.  About 6.5 miles in, I started with my first bit of nutrition, and the nagging tummy ache that had been bothering me started to flare up.  I tried everything to push it away.  I breathed the cool, fresh fall air.  I house shopped.  I focused on music.  But it wouldn’t leave.  By the time another 6 had passed, and it was time for more nutrition, I couldn’t do it.  I nibbled at another piece of Clif Shot Bloks, and the stomachache started up, worse than before.

15 Miles.

The stomachache was too real.  Katy Perry came on with ‘Roar’.  And I dissolved into tears.  I’m not sure if I’ve ever shared this, but I get hyper-emotional during races.  It’s an introspective period of time, and the thought of the message of the song, the stomach pain, and the fact that I was over halfway in the race got to me.  Get it together, Cheri.  Someone is going to see you crying and think something is really wrong. 

18.1 Miles.

I literally pulled over in a field, and the stomachache was just too much.  I barfed in a field.  Everything I’d eaten, all the water, and all the nutrition was gone.  A cop looked on, sorrowfully.  But I couldn’t give it up, I was only like 8 miles from the finish!

So I knew that I’d lost all my nutrition and all my water.  And the thought of eating was producing more vomit.  So I kept up with my water, and trudged through the last bit of the marathon.

I did it. 

It was abysmally slow.  I was a little sunburned.  But I did it, run-walking that last 8 miles or so.  Once I finished, I med-tented, explained to them what had happened, and let them check my levels.  I was fine, understandably a little dehydrated, and not feeling like eating ever again.

I finished.  I’m a two-time marathoner!! And upon an appointment with a gastro, I am totally ready for the next running adventure.

Marathon Couple

Time to have some fun! #runchat

| cheriarmour

In the comments below, on Facebook, or on Twitter answer me this.

What should I think about on tomorrows long beautiful run? I’ll do my best do think about it and address it in a little post next week.  

The first order of thinking business will be about food.  That’s all I’ve got so far. 

Weather Obsession

| cheriarmour

Marathons are very much like weddings in that you do this…thing.

You check the weather incessantly, smiling when it looks good (about 10 days out), and progressively getting more anxious as you realize that things aren’t going to go the way you planned. That’s so life right?

You have to understand where I’m coming from here though. There was a point during training where I was running, in the mountains of Pennsylvania on a 94-degree day with like 77% humidity. I never dried off that day, btws. Never for a second did I think that I’d be crossing the start line in Greensboro with a starting temp of 32 degrees.

Weather

Of course, there are a few conflicting reports on what temp we’re starting in, but the truth is, it’s gonna be effing cold.

No matter, it’s off to the running store I go tonight. Objective? A better pair of gloves that actually fit my limbs, and those little hot hands thingies to stick in my gloves while we’re just chilling and waiting around for the gun to go off. And it’s time (now two days away) to plan a good outfit.

Here goes Buzzfeed, singing my life.

| cheriarmour

4 days away from the Greensboro Marathon, and I’m a little alarmed that I’m not freaking out or having a psychotic break. All I can think about is eating a biscuit from Biscuitville with an egg on it. 26.2 miles, and all I can think about is the fat I can consume immediately following. Oh well, have me arrested if you don’t like it.

This video though.  The one I related to the best was the isolation, which I distinctly felt at like miles 17-19 of my first marathon.  Justin Timberlake Pandora was playing, and I remember wondering where everyone was.

What I didn’t relate to, however, was the wall, and knock on wood for my amazing co-workers who guided me through the nutrition needed to prevent that exhausted feeling, I hope I don’t hit it this time.  4 days!  Eep!

Bull City Race Fest: A Review

| cheriarmour

I think today actually feels like the first day of fall I’ve felt since fall started almost a month ago.  I write to you from my apartment, zipped into a jacket, toes freezing, with that weird burny smell coming from the heat because I’ve barely used it yet.

Today, I participated in the Bull City Race Fest, Endurance Magazine’s race festival.  It was a fun way to get in a few miles in before next week’s 26.2 (eek) which looms at just about 5 days away now.

I was terrified.  I haven’t raced since the spring, and even though this was a 5-miler, nothing scary, and nothing I haven’ t done before, but getting back into it felt kind of like I was running a first race all over again.

Medal

The race featured a 1-miler, a 5-miler, and a 13.1, all winding through Durham, about 25 minutes from where I live in Raleigh.

  • The Improvements:  I don’t want to say “the bad” because there was really nothing bad about this race, especially for an inaugural year, which usually is a mess.  The only thing that kind of caught me off-guard, which could have been my fault, was that I was not 100% clear that the 5-miler didn’t finish where we started.  So, when I finished, I wasn’t aware to tell friends that I’d finished and I was on Duke University’s campus.  No big deal.
  • The traffic.  Almost 6,000 folks ran, and it created some congestion on the course.  I’m a little concerned for next year, which I’m sure will be bigger, especially if they keep it up with all the food trucks.

The Awesome:

  • The race was extremely well-organized.  The expo, the refreshments, the buses to transport us from the 5-miler line back to the start, everything seemed to come together pretty well.
  • The food trucks.  The race ended with a food truck rodeo that was pretty cool.  By the time we got to the trucks, literally every single truck was out of coffee, which would have been nice, especially considering the cold, but my breakfast biscuit and hash brown patty was tasting so right to my senses.
  • Packet pick-up.  Nice.  No complaints here.

    • And unrelated, it was good to see a ton of friends at the race from Raleigh and Durham, and I felt super lucky to run into some coworkers, one of whom won the whole dang thing, and two of whom were running their first half-marathons. How cool to witness that experience for someone else!

Don’t do this annoying thing. Please?

| cheriarmour

I cannot stress enough the importance of going to a running specialty store and getting a proper shoe fitting.  You may think you’re getting some kind of steal online or at Dick’s, but if you don’t know what you’re looking for, or if you’re buying a model that’s three cycles old and already breaking down, you’ve kind of screwed yourself.  If you’re getting a pair of sneaks for like $54, you might be making a mistake.  Not you might, let me stop with this passive language.  Something isn’t right.

Okay so anyways, I love working in running retail.  It’s exciting.  The technology is always changing.  It’s interesting.  And working around all those runners is truly inspiring.  They’re cool peoples.

But contrary to what a lot of people thought, we don’t make commission selling running shoes.  And we like it like that.  It keeps our motivations clean and honest.  But there was one thing that was so annoying, I could rip my own hair out. 

Let me make this clear.  We never minded if you went through the process to get a fitting and decided you weren’t ready to buy anything.  That’s fine, and that’s what the whole process of “shopping” is about.  Go home, think about it, maybe read up on it, and decide if that’s what you want to do.

But when folks would come in, get fitted, and tell us, usually at the end of the process, that they were going to go see if they could find the shoe online cheaper, and snap a iPhone pic of the box, complete with the name of the shoe and style number? My blood would boil.

Why this is Problematic

  • I understand everyone is looking for a deal.  I get it.   I have student loans, and I have to limit my fancy times to stay afloat.  But this isn’t Best Buy, and you’re not going to really find the exact same model any cheaper.  You might find an older model, and that’s not gonna be the same as the shoe you tried on.
  • You’re not paying taxes in some states (well not up until recently).  Sorta shady.
  • We just provided you a service, and you took the service elsewhere.  That kinda sucks.  Would you like it if I did that to you?
  • It’s just kinda not nice.

If you’re at the place where you feel like you need to do this, do a few things.  Be upfront with the person helping you, and understand, that there’s probably no way you will find the same model for cheaper.

Quick Example and I’ll let you go. 

The Brooks Glycerin 11 retails for $150.  In-store, and on Zappos.

Glycerin

What you will find online for cheaper?

Glycerin 10

The Brooks Glycerin 10, which is pretty different.  It was heavier, and it still had the plastic piece in the middle, which is called the midfoot shank.  If you were to try the 11 on in the store and purchase the 10, you’d be pissed.

Anyhoo, just be NICE and don’t do that annoying thing, okay?

Job Search.

| cheriarmour

Running came to me at a really….tumultuous time in my life.

I graduated from NC State University in 2011 with my Masters.  I was a Social Worker!  Werk, right?  Wrong, kinda.

I spent the next like, year, searching high and low for a job that would apply, even vaguely, to what I’d spent years studying.  And thus, began the infamous job search, and by default, how I became a marathoner.  Running kept me from tearing all my hair out, one loc by one, each time I went through the following process, one that would take you from hopeful -> despondent in a matter of weeks.

The black hole.

I started, like any job-searching dumbass, by applying for jobs using those online forms.  Then I’d get really, really, really upset when I never heard anything for like 100 years from whatever agency it was.  It completely escapes me why any agency/company would utilize these forms when it’s pretty clear to me that a million people apply using these things, and not a single one of them gets a call back.  The key, I found, was filling into the form, exactly what the form wanted to hear.

The courtship. 

Once I started figuring out the system, there was these incredible awkward experience called “the phone interview” that would befall me.  Here’s how it would go down.  You schedule a time with an interviewer, usually over email, to do the interview.  Say it’s like at 8:30 am.  You’ll do what you’re supposed to, find a nice, quiet place, and sit with your phone, waiting on this call.  Usually the interviewer won’t bother to call until 8:36.  This means that you will have been staring at your phone, on high-alert, for 6 minutes.  The phone rings.  And your heart jumps out of your chest.  Usually, at this point, you’re all, how the eff am I going to answer this, and sound professional?  I know!  I’ll use my racially ambiguous voice for this one!

“This is Cheri!”

So I’d chirp through the entire phone interview.  I’d usually fly through this part.

Froyo

The in-person.

After I’d nail the phone interview, it was time for the in-person interview.  Stress city.  This was the tricky part.  What do I wear.  Ugh, is my natural hair a little too “ethnic” for the position?  Too late, it’s nearly 10 years in the making.   What if I don’t look like what my voice sounds like? Have I done enough research on the company?  What might they ask?  What do I say when they ask if I have any questions.

The Break-Up

This, by far, was one of the most emotionally damaging parts of the entire search process.  You’d do the interview.  And you never really know how you did.  There’s the wait.  And then you sense that you’re about to be broken up with. There’s the email break up, days after you’ve sent your stupid thank-you note.  And the email reads like this.

Cheri,

I wanted to let you know how AWESOME I think you are.  You’ve been such an asset to this company in the capacity that you work in, and you’re SO good at what you do, we want to KEEP YOU THERE!  That’s right, we went with this other guy for the position that you interviewed 3 times for! (Sorry about the humiliation!)

I know it seemed like the interview went really well, and we even showed you where your future office was going to be to tease you, but we really really, really wanted to fool with your emotions, that way, when you open this email, you’re absolutely sure to burst into tears.  Hope to embarrassingly see you around the office!

Awk

Oh. Gonna drink anything that’s a liquid now.

This happened to me really too many times for me to recount, and in the most painful, and humiliating off ways.  I’m not lying, once I was interviewed like three times for a position, and I didn’t get it.  Once, in a lunch interview, one of the guys interviewing me asked me how I do my hair when I run.  I believe he was just intrigued by my locs.  I didn’t get that job, and I found that out when I called the woman in the interview back after she’d left me a chirpy sounding email.  I was pumped! She’d called, all happy, to let me know that they’d given the job to some guy, who ended up resigning a few months later.

The Resolution

All of this was eased by a few things.  I never really accepted the situation, and it would be a lie to claim I had.  That might have made things a little easier, but my parents are successful, my friends are successful, and I compared myself to that.  Plus I have student loans to pay off.  But what did make it a little easier was Fleet Feet, running and generally working off the jobless anxiety, and eventually finding a job in my field.

I’ll leave you with the one and only Job Search Tip that you’ll need.

You guys know all the tips.  Your resume is top-notch, you have degrees, and you’re qualified,  In the time when you’re unemployed or underemployed, be good to yourself.  Work out.  You’ve got more time than most working people, so take advantage of it.  Go the the gym.   Do some yoga.  It’ll render you a little more ready to take on your situation, plus, you’ll have a 6-pack and look like a friggin supermodel when you actually do get an interview.  It’s tempting to sit around and gain 1000 lbs while going through this, but don’t let this process win.  And when you do experience rejection, and you will, chalk it up to another frustrating experience.  You know there are better things out there for you. 

We Found the Culprit of the Stomach Upset

| cheriarmour

I wouldn’t say I cruised through the first 13.1 of my first marathon back in March. I was running unsustainably fast, as you do in a first. It was windy and cold, and I’m pretty sure, by that point, that I was missing a glove, which is like the kiss of death for someone is Raynaud’s. But considering, it was good. (Get ready for the tmi, but this is so necessary.) When I passed the 13-mile marker, the tummy-ache started. And I have a nearly medically diagnosed aversion to porta-johns. So I was in trouble. I figured it out, eventually and it involved a skanky public restroom. But what the heck had caused that gnarly, acute stomach upset?

20-miler

I ran my last 20 today before the end of October’s marathon. It wasn’t fast, but it was consistent, which is what is important to me. Even if I run this race slower, as long as I’m consistent, start to finish, I’ll have learned something, is how I feel. But I digress. I began my nutrition plan with two non-caffeinated items (Shot Bloks and and raspberry PowerGel), all about 6 miles apart. And then came the deadliest catch.

20131006-220744.jpg

I found this at REI. And going down, it was pretty cool.  For the consistency to be as raunchy as it was, it actually tasted kind of like what the label said, coffee. And the caffeine was amazing. 10 minutes later, I played raunchy Latin music, clapped, sang, and let out a “WOO” on more than one occasion. And then it hit. I couldn’t wait another minute without finding a bathroom. And I was sort of lost, as the trail that I was on abruptly ended, leaving me in a fancy neighborhood.  And this time, I had to use this traumatizing public park men’s restroom.  I was positive that when I entered the facility, I was going to find a body, but luckily, it was just a restroom that smelled of…I can’t even say it.

Long, and gross story short, I can’t do the caffeine, which makes me totally sad, because prior to the upsets, I’ve always felt awesome, and like 20 miles was no problem.  But something about that combination really doesn’t agree with me.  So Shot Bloks and decaffeinated Gels it is.  Luckily, 20 miles felt totally awesome, and is leaving me feeling positive about my slow, slow race on October 26th.