Houston Marathon 2012 Race Report

Um yep, I ran another marathon and have been so caught up with the rest of life that I forgot to write a race report (thanks for the reminder Kerri!).

I ran Houston again this year, and I was far better trained this year than last. I managed to stay mostly injury free, and I ran significantly more miles than last year. Interestingly, I ran more miles, but I ran every single mile slower (over a minute per mile slower!)...yet finished WAY faster.
This year I also ran for a charity...the Organization fo Autism Research. That also played a huge part in how hard I trained and how much I could endure on marathon day. I ran for my KK and for all of our sanity.

Anyway, so I was smart enough to take the day off on Friday before the race to hit the expo and do some shopping. I got a couple of things, but I had one particular find that I absolutely loved.

As is typical for January, Patrick had a tournament that weekend. So thankfully, my mom came up and helped me with the kids that Saturday. This was great because I had to take Larkin to a birthday party, during which I feel like I pulled a back muscle! Then I realized at 5pm that I did not have enough Gu Chomps to get through the race...and had to run to Academy in a hurry! Mom kept me sane, and I went to bed early ready for my early wake-up!

The morning went mostly as planned, but it was freaking cold!I had tons of throw away layers, but I debated what I really needed. I managed to head to the convention center with just a throw away jacket. We were a little late, but managed to meet up with Annie, Beth, etc. and got a quick girls picture.

Annie and company headed to the "fast" corral LOL!, and Patrick walked me to the B corral where we ran into Ginger! I am wearing not only my throw away jacket but also Patrick's soccer parka...it was COLD!

I feel like it took forever to get to the start line. Somewhere in there I abandoned all reason and decided that sleeveless and shorts was acceptable in 30 degree weather...I was freezing...as exhibited below.

I took off with the crowd around the 11:00 min/mile pace. My goal was to maintain that pace throughout. Considering that it took me 5hrs 25 minutes to finish last year, a pace of 11-11:15min/mile would get me in under 5 hours and that was my goal.
Goal 1: Beat my time from last year.
Goal 2: Come in under 5 hours.
Ultimate goal: Come in under 4:45.

Truth be told, I took off "too fast" according to my time goal. I was supposed to stick to 11min/mile with a preferred upper limit of 11:15min/mile. But I felt good, and it felt easy, so I just coasted comfortably. By mile 2, I was perfectly content with my sleeveless/short ensemble. It's also interesting to remember that last year, my knee hurt at 0.25 miles...it was a non-issue this year.

I hit the 5K marker in 33:25 with a pace of 10:46min/mile...oops, just a tad fast.

I saw Patrick right about then and told him I went out too fast. He said don't worry about it and settle into my pace. So I tried to slow down...but I don't think that worked because I hit the 10K marker in 1:07:16 at a pace of 10:50min/mile.

I saw Patrick again and told him I was still going too fast and that I was going to regret the pace...and he said "keep going, you only have 4 more hours". Crap...the idea of doing that for 4 more hours seemed unlikely, but I was set in that pace and just decided at that moment I was going to give it everything I had. I was going to try to maintain that pace for as long as possible, and then when things fell apart (as I was confident they would) then I would struggle through to the end and just try to get as close to 5 hours as I could.

I passed through Rice Village and saw my boss cheering, then I saw Patrick again who proceeded to run with me for a few minutes. He wanted to carry a conversation and while I was doing okay, I wasn't exactly in the mood to chit-chat, plus him running alongside me with a huge backpack bouncing around was really distracting. So I told him I was fine and sent him along. Then I picked up some Vaseline at the next medical tent because I was chafing (for the first time ever) under my arms. I don't wear sleeveless often...now I know why!

I hit the 15K mark in 1:40:41 at a pace of 10:48min/mile.

At this point I wasn't really sure how I was still moving at the same pace. I definitely felt like I could give it more, but at the same time, I didn't want to blow-up in the second half!
I hit the half marathon point in 2:21:35 at a pace of 10:48min/mile.

Now I was itching...itching to let loose. I knew I had more to give, but I had never made it to this point so strong. Last year, I literally hit THE WALL at like mile 7. This time, I was cruising, completely comfortable with my pace, definitely pushing a little, but always feeling like I had more to give (which apparently is what a well paced marathon should feel like).
I promised myself to hold back until I hit mile 20...then I was just going to give it all I had.
I saw Patrick up on an overpass "hill" around mile 16? Our friends Lauren and Aaron had apparently done their own sprint to get up the overpass to get there in time to catch me (my time projections were screwed up for everybody because I was going too fast LOL!). I was happy, but I remembered yelling at him "It's starting to hurt, but I'm too stubborn to slow down!"

And then I hit 25K in 2:47:30 at a pace of 10:47min/mile. I was still maintaining pace...but honestly, I probably had no idea that this was the case. I just knew I was feeling fairly consistent, and I wasn't completely miserable yet. 

Those next couple of miles flew by. I was literally just waiting to hit mile 20 so that I could push it. Really feel what it was like to leave it all on the course.
I hit 30K in 3:21:02 at a pace of 10:47min/mile. Still holding strong.
I saw them one more time just before my "go point". I was still feeling good. Where last year I stopped and half cried to Patrick and walked for several minutes...this year I smiled for a picture, kept moving, and said "I got it".

And I did...so I took off....ready to leave it all out there. Feeling strong, feeling like this was what I trained for, this is what I worked for, this was what I would do for my KK, for my family, for myself.

The wall wasn't really intimidating. My legs were getting a little heavy, everything was starting to ache, but I was ready for it. I tried to push, but it took quite a bit of effort to just maintain my pace...again, typical marathon feeling. But I tried to pick it up just a little bit. Man, it felt so amazing to be passing SO many people that late in the race. I started to cramp a little (calves were tightening), so I made sure to grab plenty of Gatorade. That salty goodness tasted amazing!

I hit 35K in 3:53:22 at a pace of 10:44min/mile...meaning I really was speeding up! Which again, isn't all that common in a marathon for your average middle-aged mom of 2 ; )

Somewhere in here, I did some fuzzy math and realized that I was definitely going to make it under 5 hrs...and that I was probably going to make it under 4:45...but could I do even better?
I was really feeling good, and then bargaining with myself that at mile 23 I would pick up the pace again, and then PAIN!!!

From one minute to the next, terrible, excruciating pain in my right foot toe area. I'm not sure how I didn't break stride/fall down/cry. But I kept going. I was confident that my toe nail was completely ripped off. I knew that if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to start again. I could not sit, I could not take off my shoe, I had 3 miles to go for my best time, and I was NOT going to quit now! I kept trying to rub my toes down to get the toe nail back on, but that didn't seem to help anything. All I could do was keep moving through the pain for a little longer. I hit the last aid station just before mile 25 and didn't even slow down...I spilled half the Gatorade on myself.

Again, I have to say that the support those last 6 miles of the marathon is freaking amazing! These people know exactly what to say. I say this because last year...at the back of the pack, these people said things like "just keep moving forward, you're going to make it!"...but I was in a different "time zone" this year, so I heard things like "don't stop now, keep up the pace, give it all you've got!". Because this year, I was in a different group...and I loved that.

Even given the excruciating foot (well, you know, and everything else that hurt!), I hit the 40K mark in 4:25:42 at an overall pace of 10:42min/mile...I was still getting faster. 

I skipped the last aid station...and I gave it everything I had. Honestly, it feels amazing to know that you finished a race and left it all out there. Over those last 6 miles, I pushed every uphill, passing tons of people as I went, I pushed at every chance. Last year, when I got downtown, I remember conserving a little barely half a mile from the finish to make sure I could still be running at the finish line. This year, I was ramping my pace up every inch closer to that finish line. I pushed as hard as I possibly could toward the end...I really didn't understand how close I was to finishing under 4:40...

I remember watching the TV coverage the next day and telling Patrick that I was absolutely sprinting to the finish...and watching the "Kenyan winners" running on TV and telling him "that's how fast I thought I was going"...he choked on his food...LOL!
But going down that home stretch, literally, the last 5 minutes of the race, I kept saying to myself (actually I was saying it out loud!) "Come on, come on, come on!".
And in the end I left it ALL absolutely out there. On that day, in those conditions, I could not have done any better.
I crossed the finish line in 4:39:37 at a pace of 10:40min/mile...and a 3 minute negative split.
The results would later show that in the last 4.5 miles, I passed 428 runners...and only 1 passed me.
I crossed the finish line knowing I had not only beaten my time from last year (by over 45 minutes!!!), broken 5 hours, but also broken 4:45.

 Then I looked down at my watch and saw that glorious 4:39...

And then looked over and saw Patrick and got emotional...oh my God, a feeling I will never forget. Utter exhaustion, complete pride, utmost satisfaction...my work was done...it was all worth it.

I limped my way into the convention center. It's always funny to me how you've just sprinted (or at least think you have sprinted), and then literally feet from the finish line, you can't seem to limp your way across a room. I went to find Patrick, but then he quickly had to get me back over to the medical area. He carried me on his back which was fairly entertaining LOL! I went to the podiatry area of medical and had some lovely areas of my foot drained. A few choice blisters, one of which was under the nail bed of my second toe. It hurt...but again, totally worth it!

The Texans were in a playoff game that day, so we were lucky enough to go have lunch and a drink with Lauren and Aaron while Mom watched the kids a little longer. I tried not to puke, limped around, and basically glowed and was in awe about how well it went. HOLY CRAP!

And then I talked to Mom and Dad...and they were so proud. I guess you could track my dot across the city, and "my dot" kept doing better than expected, so they got to watch me "outperform" my expectations all morning...and well, as a grown adult, those opportunities to make your parents proud are a little more rare...so it meant everything to me because it meant so much to them.

At the end of the day, I was still in one piece.
I was proud and exhausted.
My kids were happy to see me.
My exhausted husband had tracked me all over Houston and was equally impressed.
And I still knew that I wanted to do it again next year...and do it faster.

Because it's the one thing I do all year that is for me. It's my personal time, it's my chance to push myself. Training is my therapy, and when I can fundraise for autism research, it's even more awesome.

So I will keep doing it until I can't...and you'll keep hearing about it whether you want to or not ; )

Christmas 2011

Yes...I know it's almost March.
So with that, I'll give you a photo recap of the Christmas season.
We're supposed to be decorating here, but they had other plans...

 Because it's fun to twinkle...

 He looks like he's decorating, but he's really trying to take off with that Perry the Platypus ornament...

 Decorating our annual gingerbread house.

 Which is apparently very exciting.

 Larkin's calm and perfect Santa picture.

 Then we added Kellen...this was the "calm" picture...poor Santa.

 Doesn't everyone have Christmas tree shaped muffins for breakfast on Christmas morning?

 Kellen wanted to help with Larkin's Christmas morning hair!

 Trying for a Christmas morning picture...

 But I've finally learned that sometimes the best pictures are when no one is looking at the camera...

And our winner for best Christmas present...

 Happy belated Christmas!

Larkin Dances

So again, how sad that I'm having to catch up from so long ago, but better late than never!
Larkin started dance classes this fall, and she absolutely adores them. In December, she had her first mini-recital. Let me tell you, I was not prepared. She was extremely excited, and we could not comprehend what we were in for. It was obvious throughout the recital that she loved dance, and she was so intent on getting every move right. We have video, but mostly it looks like we're in an earthquake because I was unprepared for the emotions that would overtake me as the music started and she began dancing. I mean I was doing the ugly cry...again. I didn't expect it at all, but she was just such a big girl and she looked so beautiful and was doing such an amazing job...well, I couldn't help it.

Hey, that's actually pretty hard to do!

The Hip-hop number...

She was into it, but honestly, she was much more intent on the ballet piece.

Um Mama...you can stop crying now.

She held her flowers like they were a bat...

With Nina who made the drive just to see her dance...and almost gave us a money shot with this pic (Mom!).

Catch Up - Thanksgiving?

Oh hey look another post title ending in "Up!"

But seriously, how sad is it that to catch up I had to go all the way back to Thanksgiving...

I'll make this one quick.

We took a super quick road trip for Thanksgiving in order to see my brother (and the rest of my family), but the holiday was fairly uneventful. We couldn't make any extra stops because this year we had an extra passenger...

We couldn't bear to leave Tristan home alone his first holiday without Skylar, so taking him with us negated our plans of a couple more stops, but he's our family, and we don't know how much longer we have him. He thoroughly enjoyed the road trip though : )

Larkin was decked out for turkey day in my handmade shirt!

Then Papa decided she needed some Cowboys spirit...and then we all wondered if maybe they'd be better off with an old Aikman than a current Romo...

 Kellen was happy to just relax and get away with murder at Nina and Papa's...

Line Up

I wonder how many post titles I can come up with that end in "Up"...just kidding.

2 blog posts in a week, what are you going to do with yourselves?? And I have so much more just ready to lay out here, so let's get this one out of the way.

By all accounts, Kellen skews more to the "classic autism" diagnosis (I have a whole other post in mind discussing labels, diagnoses, etc. so more on that later). Thankfully he does NOT exhibit the unfortunate stereotype of complete detachment and aversion to physical touch. Kk is a sensory seeker and extremely physically affectionate, and I thank GOD for those daily hugs, kisses, and snuggles.

But back to stereotypical behavior...We've all heard people give the party line "Oh, the incidence of autism isn't increasing, it's just that we're better at diagnosing it" (Sadly, I may have uttered these exact lines more than once before KK...dum-dum). And don't get me wrong, I fully agree that autism is not a one-size fits all diagnosis (again, another post brewing on the fact that I compare having "autism" to having a "cold"), but then when your son starts doing something like this...well you just wonder.

I didn't realize we had so many blocks.

Kk has begun lining things up. This started the weekend before he started school, literally 2 days before his 3rd birthday. Now most kids sadly aren’t diagnosed until around their 3rd birthday, and all of the various forms/questionnaires that we’ve filled out over the past year always ask us “line up” questions. We’ve always been able to honestly say “No”…not anymore. At least someone's using the china cabinet

Evaluating his current configuration

And then getting annoyed at Tristan in his "line up"...so he attempts to move a dog 3 times his size.

We found it interesting that arcs are appropriate lines as well...

And then he branched out from cars to Larkin's teacups...this did not go over well with Larkin because he chose to do this in her doorway.

I have seen dozens upon dozens of pictures from other autism mamas with their kids doing this exact same thing…how does that happen? He’s never seen anyone else do it, and it’s just come out of nowhere. There has to be some sort of brain process that begins around this age and develops this need in these kids. This isn’t something we’re making up, this isn’t something that’s being encouraged. It is happening spontaneously, and it is happening to far more kids than allow us to write it off to chance or “better methods of diagnosis”. I don’t know about you (really, I don’t, so tell me if I’m wrong), but I didn’t grow up with any friends who did this…not like this…it brings us back to the fundamental shift that many people in the autism community believe has happened…back to the generational aspect that somehow someway, we did this…

You can see him think when he does it.
He’s highly protective of what he’s created.
He sees something that we don’t.
He’s highly focused and will notice if you move something ever so slightly…and then go fix it.
But he’s not completely lost in it. He was lining up his cars in the bath the other day, and I got down to the edge of the tub at his eye level and he looked into my eyes and smiled…he was busy, but he showed me that he was still there.
I want to see what he sees, I want to know what he knows…because there is so much more there than we can possibly imagine…that much I do know.
Just another day “Unlocking KK”.

Pick Up

Today’s title has multiple meanings…

First, I desperately need to pick up my blogging again. It’s important to my sanity, it’s important to document where we’ve been, where we are, where we’re going. I have much that I want to share, and I just need to make more of an effort.

Second, I need to pick up my battle axe! Blogging is part of that. I want to be an advocate, I want to make a difference, I need to be one of the voices that matters at least to one person…

Finally, I wanted to tell an interesting (to me) story of my daily “pick up”…

Let me say that Kellen has started a new school district program, and you will be hearing a lot about it in the coming weeks. We had to make some decisions, not all by our own choice, but we are moving forward, and we are extremely hopeful for the future.

He still goes to daycare before and after school (it’s just a halfday) so our pick-up routine is much the same. I go get Larkin from her class, we walk to Kellen’s class and get him, and then we attempt to maneuver ourselves and our various things from the back of the school to my car without losing anyone or anything…daily success in that varies.

So yesterday I gathered Larkin from her class as usual and we went Kellen’s class where I proceed to get the report that he’s had a “bad day” (which to a mother in the autism world can mean a great many things or nothing at all). Apparently today’s bad day consisted of him attempting to bite his teacher a couple of times and generally just not wanting people in his space (hey it was Monday, I felt much the same). While I’m talking with the teacher and trying to get his crap together at the same time, two other things happen…one annoying/amusing (depending on your take) and one amazing/surprising.

Annoying/amusing: While I’m talking to Teacher #1, a dad is handing out birthday party invitations. He attempts to give Kellen his…by calling his name…repeatedly…and Kellen of course is not looking at him…because he is FREAKING AUTISTIC. Part of me wanted to dash over in rescue of Kellen and either a) take the invitation politely or b) actually say “He’s autistic dumbass”. Thankfully I thought better of option b because I was in a room full of 2-3 year olds, but not before I stood there for longer than was necessary watching this (non)-interaction…mostly because some small part of me was willing Kellen to look over at him, hoping, just maybe. But then I couldn’t stand it, went over, and politely took the invitation.

While all of this was going on, one of the other kids in the class apparently bonked Larkin on the head and she was now crying. Teacher #2 noticed this and quickly gathered her up and took her to the far corner of the classroom to console her. I finished my conversation with Teacher #1, and headed over to where Teacher #2 had Larkin who was still crying but did not appear to be injured in any way other than the loss of pride over being bonked on the head by a kid half her size. When I got to her, I stopped short in shock.

Amazing/surprising: Leaning down and peering into her face maybe a foot away was Kellen…he had just been over by me during the party invitation standoff, but when he heard his sister cry, he went over to check on her. My autistic son showed concern that someone was hurt, more importantly I am completely confident that he would have (and has) cared less if any of the other children in that room were crying. But he heard his sister, and went to check on her, and then searched for my face behind him and came to me.

And at the end of the day, I really could care less if he didn’t turn toward some random man calling his name. Because he heard his sister in distress and came to her side…and that’s all any mother (autism world or not) could ask for. Just another example of things “he’s not supposed to do”…I look forward to adding a whole lot more to that list!

Dear Antibiotics,

So most of you will remember the disaster that was our last round of antibiotics, and if not, then you can relive the almond-milk bath here.

So KK got sick again last week...I knew it was most likely another ear infection. I dreaded having to take him to the dr. because I knew this would mean more antibiotics. I'm not quite to the point of "letting nature take it's course" or trying homeopathic remedies for a bacterial infection, but I have to admit it crossed my mind. We went in to see our pediatrician, and I filled her in on the demonic qualities of Augmentin in autistic children. Of course, this was news to her, so she suggested Omnicef for this round. During the last demonic possession, my autism advisors had suggested amoxicillin or Omnicef, so I was ok with this strategy...mostly.

So I held my breath...he started them on Friday, Dec 9th. When I came to work on Monday everyone asked how the timeline compared to the last go round...turns out that Monday would have been almond-milk hair conditioner day. But as I sit here completing day 8 of Omnicef, the demon never appeared...neither did the terrible diarrhea...the general misery...for either him or me.

Now I definitely notice some side-effects, specifically hyperactivity! He's not mad, he's not sad, he's just BUSY. And to notice a difference in his activity takes a pretty dramatic shift because if you know KK, well "busy" is his middle name! Teachers noticed it as well, particularly his lost need for a nap. We had one night where he didn't fall asleep until after 10:30pm...I refused to go to bed until he was out, so it's been a long week.

But he's happy and attentive and not sick, so score one for Omnicef!

I know I've been promising a post on what we're doing, how we're doing it, and what we're going to do in the future. One of my plans has fallen through for the short-term, so I'm in a regrouping mode...as I do that, maybe I can lay out our strategy more effectively.

For now, we manage each day the best we can. I take comfort in his arm wrapped tightly around my neck, in his need to take me everywhere with him, in my being his security blanket, in Larkin's attempts at teaching and prompting him, and in my husband's attempts to prove how much more he's capable of.

We will get there. I am still learning. I am still digesting. I am still opening my mind.
I feel the need to try harder, to move faster, but each of us can only take so much...so we regroup and gather strength for the battle ahead.
We will get there.