After checking my gear bag we jogged around the parking lot area trying to warm up. I check the sock on my left foot, feeling like it was bunched up under my toes. The sock was fine; the weird feeling was some numbness in my extremities. We jogged until I finally felt like blood was moving to all areas of my body, then we went over to the corrals.

My estimated finish time was 1:40, so I was assigned to Corral number 2, right near the front.

Warming up before the race, it's still pretty dark at this point.

At 6:00 Bill kissed me goodbye and headed off to the tram. He was going to wait for me on the walkway over the street and try to take pictures. The race director did a big lead-up to the National Anthem and proudly introduced Celine Dion as… Cher! Oops.

The starting gun went off and I shuffled over the starting line about a minute later. My goal was to start slow at an 8:00-8:30 pace, then drop 0:45-1:00 about half-way through and then another 0:15-0:30 the last 5K.

Billboard proclaiming that Runners Rock the Strip!! Yea baby!

At the 5K marker I checked my Garmin and was dismayed to see that the distance had registered only 1.5 miles. The timer was still going and the pace looked reasonable as well, in the 8:00 range. I shook my arms to loosen them up, looked at the Garmin again, and it had turned off! I turned it back on and re-synced it, but now the pace said I was trotting along at a 6:00 clip.

 At the 10K marker I stopped at a porta-potty for a quick pee and nose-blow. I went inside, sat down and proceeded to fumble for a good minute with getting the paper off the t.p. roll. I was the first person to visit this potty! That’s NEVER happened to me before.

There were a few bands playing, but their sound systems didn’t carry the music much past the stage, so music was not the happening thing the brochures touted when I signed up. That was kind of a bummer, as well as there was NO roadside entertainment at that hour of the morning. Some of the casinos were still lit, but as the sun hit the buildings on the west side of the Strip there was this feeling of standing between two dimensions; Vegas reality, and runner’s reality.

Right around mile 8 a pacer came up from behind. I picked up my tempo a hair to let him pull me a few miles, when I heard a girl say to someone that the pacer was going too fast for his 3:30 marathon time; he was 1:30 above pace, according to her watch. I checked this info with my Garmin and found that it was fluctuating between 9:20 and 6:50. In frustration I shook my arm and again, the thing turned off.

My calves were tight by now, and I didn’t think I could pull off a sprint. My best option was to keep a fast pace and just ride it out, figuring I was now doing a tempo run instead of a race. A runner started pacing with me and we chatted for a while, which was AWESOME. I confessed to him that races are too quiet for my taste; I’m used to being in a pack of chatty women, with conversation happening all around. His Garmin was tracking just fine, so we used his to keep our pace steady. He was a marathoner and was turning off at mile 10, while I was continuing down the Strip. We bemoaned the fact that we were doing different races, as it was an instant friendship and we each wanted the other to continue with OUR race. I gave him my Twitter info, and am hopeful that Dave from New York finds me so we can keep chatting.

The last three miles were hard. My calves were super-tight, my left Achilles was talking to me, and I could feel blisters forming in the usual owie places on my left foot. Lungs felt fine this entire time, though I was astounded at the slow pace, feeling like I was slogging through muck. I had no get-up-and-go, and at some point during mile 11 I slowed down and walked for a minute, hoping to stretch out my calves a little. This actually helped, and I started running again with a little relief.

Bill was waiting near the finish line, and I was so tickled to hear him call my name as I ran up to the finish shoot. There wasn’t a lot of spunk in my step at that point, and I was just thrilled to get over the finish line and start walking out the sore muscles.

Crossing the finish line

I proudly accepted the finisher medal, received a Mylar blanket, and collected a ton of food from the finisher area (some for me, some for Bill). He was waiting for me near the barricade, so I didn’t have to go to letter Q to find him. Here’s a photo of me holding my stash, looking tired but happy.

Me with my finisher medal and stash of food.

Bill found my finish time (Bib # 2919) on Active.com’s website .  I finished in 1:42:30, a full 2:30 slower than what I was aiming for. 

Stats:

Bib #: 2919

Chip time: 1:42:30

Clock time: 1:43:27

Overall: 801

Sex Pl: 154

Div Pl: 34

Age Grade%: 65.3

When I got bummed about my time Bill laid the smack-down on me and informed me that I did GREAT and that I have nothing to be unhappy about.  So with that in mind, I will duly say that I did a fantastic job, even though I didn’t hit my goal of 1:40 or 1:35, and I know that I’m a strong athlete, and I get better all the time.  See, Bill?  I listened!

Jill and her Mom started running after her  mom was diagnosed the second time with breast cancer.  They decided to run a marathon to celebrate her recovery and crossed the finish line of the 2008 PF Chang’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon in Arizona with a hunger for more.  Since that time Jill has run other distance races and has said she’ll never stop running!  She particularly loves the “Race for the Cure” series and even got to visit Washington DC to do the Global Race for the Cure.  She’s running the 2009 Las Vegas Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon to benefit the Komen Foundation, raising money via her website, Jill Will Run .  She’s asking people to donate $1 in hopes of seeing what can be raised without requesting huge contributions from everyone.  Emptying the “car ashtray change” can make a difference!

The Mindful Runner

by Jill Whitaker

Too often I feel as though I have a million thoughts rattling around in my brain.  I recently wrote about this feeling on my blog, Jill Will Run, and how it is similar to a bird trapped under a roof.  (I will admit the inspiration for that simile came from a book.  “The Thirteenth Tale” by Diane Setterfield is full of rich literary imagery.)  Running has become a very therapeutic way for me to “release the birds” and get my thoughts in order.

There is an important aspect I’ve been working on improving in my life that helps both the “birds in the brain” and my running: being more mindful. 

Instead of trying to outrun my thoughts, I use a run to observe my thoughts.  It’s a difficult task at times and I often find that I’m trying to fix the thoughts as opposed to simply noticing the different directions my brain is traveling.  When I catch myself, I try to remember to just listen and that through listening more answers can be found.

This personal observation and mindfulness is beneficial in many areas.  I think the general attitude of the world seems that we must always be on the go; planning, plotting, rushing and moving.  This constant buzz can actually prevent us from evolving as individuals. 

In January I experienced my first DNF (Did Not Finish) after tripping and falling in a marathon.  As I was trying to get medical assistance, sitting in the emergency room waiting for stitches, getting rocks dug out of my hands… all I could think was “How will I redeem myself? What’s next?”  And I think I actually delayed my recovery some by not allowing myself to focus on getting well.  I was too concerned with proving to the world that I am a tough runner and nothing can set me back.  My physical wounds healed, but my emotional well-being was damaged by not giving myself a break.

On an even more basic level, taking the time to rest mindfully can help with recovery from our everyday running and workouts.  Just sitting down and taking a moment to acknowledge that this rest is healing and is as vitally important to training as a long run or speedwork, gives the activity more focus and purpose.  (Yes, I’m going to say rest is an activity… simply because I need that label for myself.  Too often I’ve branded it as doing nothing and that just serves the purpose of making me feel down on myself.)

Mindfulness can be practiced during a run as well.  Take a moment to turn off the music and run on your own.  Notice your breathing, the world around as you run through it, the way your body moves and how it feels at that particular moment.  Do a mental scan from head to toe.  This practice can help you correct imbalances in your form, appreciate the power and grace of the human body and remember just how much you CAN do.  I have a friend who runs ultramarathons and she often reminds people that we are capable of doing so much more than we think.  When we let the negative thoughts get in the way, that’s the foundation where our limits and obstacles are built.   If you are constantly trying to block out the experience of what you are doing when running, how will you ever learn to appreciate the sport and what you are accomplishing?

Lastly, I think mindfulness can help us focus on our own abilities.  Turning our thoughts inward redirects our focus on our own skills at a personal level.  Instead of looking out at everyone else and comparing their pace and distance to our own, remember how far you have come and what changes and improvements you have made.

I challenge you to take a look inside.  Take stock of what YOU need, not what you think you NEED TO DO for everyone else.  Observe without negative judgment and remind yourself that it is okay to treat yourself kindly.  Then act upon those observations… keeping your thoughts mindful and actions purposeful.  You are worth your own attention!

Jill Whitaker writes the blog Jill Will Run.  Stop by and tell her “HI!”