Algebra

Sometimes you think you've got it together. Sometimes you think that since you've done the same race before that it will be easier when you do it again. But sometimes, a race just doesn't go the way you think it should and you finish it feeling discouraged, angry, and hopeless. You, my friend, had a bad run.

Bad runs happen to us all, sometimes in training and sometimes at races. This was my recap of the Sarasota First Watch Half Marathon in 2017. I think I was still in my truck in the parking lot grumbling, pouting, and venting about it on Facebook before starting the hour drive back home. It was my fourth running of this race, so SURELY I was going to have a great finish, right? Nope.

Race recap.
PRERACE: Psych myself into thinking I can hit a good time goal since I ran so well last weekend, post on FB. 
MILE 1: Going out a little fast, might regret it later, but push through, you're tough. 
MILE 2: Damn the bridge. Shouldn't have been that difficult compared to hills/elevation in Asheville. But it was. Not a good sign.
MILE 3: Walk break in St. Armand's circle. This is not going to turn out well.
MILE 4: There's the bridge again. Why is it so hot? Stupid bridge.
MILE 5: Coming off the bridge. Right leg annoyed with bruise from rough boating yesterday. Posture starting to wane early.
MILE 6: I'm already tired. Should have had fried pickles last night. Why is it so hot??
MILE 7: Don't make eye contact with the pacer behind you. Then he can't pass you. 
MILE 8: Shit (out loud). He passed me. Walk break.
MILE 9: Not feeling so tough now. Legs are lead. Annoyed I can't keep up. It's HOT.
MILE 10: Feet hurt. F@$& (out loud). Pacer 2:15 passes me. Walk break.
MILE 11: Body parts trying to organize a coup. Convince myself to stay in charge. 
MILE 12: Feeling sorry for myself. This race is awful. I feel bad. Now I'm hungry. Walk break. 
MILE 13: See the finish. Ready to end the misery.
FINISH: Where's my damn medal? Where's the beer? No, I will not pose for a picture with my stinking medal you nice photographer people. 
POST RACE: Drink beer, reflect upon how the bad races make the good ones worth it. Channel my inner Elsa, let that shit go, move on to getting ready for the next race. Run the Bluegrass in Lexington, Kentucky - see you in two weeks. 

Here's the thing. My finish time wasn't even all that bad considering the current "season". A 2:17 was in the average range of finishes at the time. So why did I not run better than I thought I would? Why did I not run a faster time, one I knew I was capable of? Why did it feel so stinking awful???

Variables. You know, those pesky little letters and symbols in math that are unknown. You have to do a bunch of figurin' and calculatin' to solve for them.  Or you use them in a formula where the answer changes depending on the value of each variable. They all relate to each other. It's Algebra, the bain of every parent's existence when their middle-schooler needs help for class and you realize you have forgotten everything you ever learned 30 years ago. Algebra uses symbols as variables or missing factors in equations. You have to mess with them ten different ways to Sunday to arrive at a solution. And to make matters worse, those slippery variables CHANGE, affecting other variables and the outcomes associated with them. I didn't take into account all my variables before that race. I didn't notice them. I pretended I didn't have any. I thought I had the solution and I didn't have to "show my work". I put my hands over my ears and sang la-la-la-la-la...

Fact is, there were several variables that made an impact on my race. They were quiet, remaining unnoticed by me. First off, I was just plain busy. The previous weekend I flew up and ran the half-marathon in Asheville, NC at the Biltmore Estate. It was 29 degrees at race start, there were hills (I'm a Florida gal, remember?), gravel, and dirt path. It was hard but I actually felt great. Two weeks before that, I did the Gasparilla Amber Challenge: 15k, 5k Saturday and half on Sunday. That same weekend I had a wedding to attend and a soccer tournament for my son (sleep? what's that?!?). A week before that, I had flown up to North Carolina to run Race 13.1 Wilmington. During that race, I went out a bit faster than planned but settled into a nice groove. Again, felt goooood running. I ended up with a faster overall time than I planned. In addition to all the races, there were all the training miles in between. With this big ol' chip on my shoulder, I went out faster at Sarasota than I should have. I was on a roll. I was all like, keep runnin' girl, you on fi-ah!!

Second, temperatures for those previous races were all over the place. I have since worked on running through heat a bit better, but for all 3 Gasparilla races and Sarasota, it was much warmer than I usually find pleasant for running. This nearly always leads to slower times for me. I used to be quite wimpy about running when it was warmer than a mild 70. Then, for Asheville, it was freezing. In fact, it started snowing 2 hours after I crossed the finish line. That was all fun and games to run the chilly weather, but trying to stay warm before and after was challenging. All those changes in temps really make the body work harder as it tries to get warm or tries to stay cool.

Third, my day-to-day habits had been off. Remember I said I had been busy? I was. Work was in high gear and weekends were full with all manner of activities: running, soccer, family, friends, chores.... the list goes on. Meals were either late, light or skipped, especially the week just before Sarasota. Good sleep was hard to come by. The day before the race we'd gone out boating and fishing most of the day. The water had been a little rough so I'd used far more energy maintaining stable footing than I thought. We were out in the sun and wind, so extra hydration was probably in order but I didn't really increase my intake. It's an atypical thing for me to head out for a day on the water before a race. Maybe the phrase should be, nothing new the day before race day.

There are probably a few more, but I simply wasn't paying attention to the variables, any of them. I expected to run better than I did because I 'felt' like I was doing well. I was over-confident that a familiar race would be a piece of cake and I would just continue business-as-usual. I was kinda feeling invincible there for a minute. I didn't think about the fatigue from the extra miles. I didn't think about what type of miles I was putting in that were different than "the usual". I didn't think about the calorie expense, the whole "glycogen stores" thing that smart runners and scientists talk about. I didn't think about the recent changes in my daily activities. The variables were there, but I didn't see them. Variables will sneak up on you with a wet towel and snap you on the backside when you're not looking.

This was one of those races that, in retrospect, has taught me to pay better attention to the variables before the race so that I have the right expectations of my performance during the race.  My expectation for Sarasota was that I had found some racing momentum, was feeling great, had been there and done that, so obviously I expected to have a great race. Right? When things started to go south, my mind couldn't wrap around it. I wasn't prepared for it to feel like a mess. Judging by my finish time, the race really wasn't a train wreck, but in my mind it was a disaster. I started drowning in my own self-pity. I became unable to enjoy any of it. I suffered. Feeling all crummy and sad after a race doesn't make you want to do another one. I didn't want to feel that way. Who wants to do all this work just to feel like Eeyore when it's over?

Since then, I've worked on trying to set myself up with more realistic expectations on race day. I've tried to pay better attention to all the pieces of the pre-race puzzle. It's kind of like putting together a first-aid kit. You put in all this crazy stuff: tweezers, antibiotic cream, rolls of bandages, iodine, scissors, ibuprofen, alcohol wipes... On most occasions all you really need is a Band-Aid. But by having it all in the kit, you're ready for anything. If I go into a race knowing all the "possibilities", I'm better prepared for whatever comes my way. I won't get ruffled when things don't go as I envisioned because my "first-aid kit" is ready. I know what could happen and I'm mentally prepared for it. I've paid attention to how I got here, I know what's possible, and I've got some strategies in my "bag" to help me get through the rough patches.

The thing is, if I had begun Sarasota 2017 with all my variables in mind, it probably still wouldn't have changed my finish time. But what would have changed was my attitude. I would have expected the fatigue and paced myself better. I would have graciously 'given' myself those walk breaks if I needed them. I would have started myself with a slower pacer knowing that I could always speed up if I felt good. I would have brought along more fuel or tried to eat a little more before the race started, or taken some extra Gatorade somewhere along the way. I wouldn't have tried to push so hard through the times when it felt awfuI. I wouldn't have been so grouchy when the pacers passed me because I might have just expected it. If I had more realistic expectations, it wouldn't have felt so much like suffering. I would have just thought it was another tough day. Although there were problems, I could still enjoy the day's journey.

As a closing thought, expectations and goals are two different things. You might be thinking after reading the above, is she saying I should set low expectations for myself? No, not at all. An expectation is "the degree of probability that something will occur". A goal is "the result or achievement toward which effort is directed; aim; end" (Dictionary.com). The probability of me having a faster finishing time wasn't strong based on the variables at the time (you know, all the the ones I ignored). For example, if I set a goal to run a sub-30:00 5k but don't add any speed work to my training, I can't "expect" to reach that goal. Is it possible? Yes. Is it likely? No. Setting expectations also allows you to manage adversity when it arises. You've already thought ahead about what can be done, what is possible, and what to do if it does or doesn't work. That's what allows you to make it through tough runs without falling apart.

As you prepare to tackle your next race, take some time to ponder your variables. Consider the possibilities of what could go right and what could go wrong, and what you're going to do with it when it does. That way, during the race, you can stay in charge of your head instead of letting a bad day hijack your racing joy. Sometimes us middle-of-the-pack recreational runners don't keep detailed logs for our daily lives. I don't necessarily think most of us need to. But deliberately taking a few minutes before a race, contemplating the possibilities and considering the variables, can do a world of good for your mind and prepare you to get through the rough spots in a run. Then, while you're sipping that ice-cold post-race beverage, you can start doing the Algebra for your next race.