Kicking the Garmin Habit

Like a smoker to their cigarettes or an alcoholic to the bottle, my relationship with my Garmin Forerunner was an addictive one. I couldn’t give it up. Sure, I went for the occasional run without it, but more often than not I had the giant GPS watch strapped to my tiny wrist, my eyeballs glued to the pace indicator. I wore it in every race and on every tempo run. Garmin told me how fast and how far, and soon I was dependent. I had no idea what my pace was unless I was wearing it. I completely lost the ability to run on feel. And that’s never a good thing.

Of course, unlike cigarettes or excessive alcohol, a Garmin isn’t detrimental to your health, but it sure can be detrimental to your running. Dependence on the Garmin robbed me of the ability to listen to my body, determine my pace, and, to an extent, measure distance. Wearing a Garmin in a race can be helpful, but what if it stops working during the race? Do you stop running?

After all, it wasn’t so long ago that we didn’t have Garmins. We relied much more on race clocks to tell us how we were doing. I remember there being a clock at every mile of the Cherry Blossom 10 miler. Although, one year the 9 mile clock was missing and everyone freaked out. You don’t see on-course clocks that often any more. Mile markers appear less frequently now, too, as if race organizers figure there’s no point in using them, since everyone has a Garmin.

So, how did I kick the habit? Well, first I tried the gum… Actually, truth is, the START button fell off my 310XT. I am not kidding. I picked up my Garmin to wear it for a run one day, and there was a divot where the button should be. I looked around and didn’t see the button anywhere. I offered my kids a dollar if they could find it…they negotiated for $2 and I agreed. Such an addict. But the button could not be found. I called Garmin and they told me to send it to Kansas for repair. I freaked out. My Garmin would be gone for 2 weeks. What would I do? And then I realized. This was my perfect chance to kick the habit.

Today I raced EX2 Adventures’ 10 mile Backyard Burn at Hemlock. Wearing a Garmin in a trail race doesn’t really help all that much. Pace varies wildly anyway, distances get skewed, and when you’re done Garmin says you only ran 9.3 miles and your pace sucked. Still, I’ve worn a Garmin for every trail race. Today I wore a stopwatch. Well, you can’t expect me to go completely cold turkey, can you?  Even with the watch, I had no idea of my pace and ran completely on feel. It was a liberating experience. I only looked at my watch to know when to drink and take a GU, and near the end to estimate my finish time.

I felt like I was pushing the pace a little too hard in the first 5 mile loop, but the course was crowded (it thins out significantly after the first loop as many people run the 5 mile option) and I had someone right behind me and I hate letting people pass. In the second loop I was able to relax a bit more on the technical sections as I no longer had a runner on my tail, but still pushed hard on the flats, which are few and far between at Hemlock. The race is basically a series of loops down to the Occoquan river and back up, so most of the time you’re flying downhill trying not to wipe out, or chugging up trying not to walk. Towards the end of the first loop I was in my own little world and apparently not looking out, because my head clipped a low-lying branch I hadn’t seen. I saw stars for a few minutes and felt the top of my head – no blood, good – which really hurt!

I think it was somewhere between miles 6 and 7 that I really got into the race. Until then I’d been feeling kinda OK but not great. As I turned up a switchback I looked down onto the trail below me and saw a string of guys. I couldn’t see anyone in front of me. I decided right then that I was going to try my hardest not to let any of the guys behind me pass me. For the last 3 – 4 miles I pushed the pace as hard as I could. With 2 miles to go I looked at my watch: 1:11. I decided I wanted to finish under 1:30, which gave me just under 19 minutes to go 2 miles. That seems easy but I was on the most technical part of the course with lots of rocks, after which there would be a very steep climb, part of which I knew I had to walk. Then a very steep downhill, some twisty single track, and a climb to the finish. I pushed on.

With 0.5 miles to go I was at 1:25. That was a really long 0.5 miles. (Signage isn’t always accurate in trail races!) I ran as fast as I could, making sure not to run into the tree I’ve almost hit several times before where there’s a 90 degree left turn, and trying not to wipe out on the boardwalk, which was moving and sliding as I ran over it. I sailed through the finish just as the clocked turned to 1:30:00, although my official time was 1:30:01. My fastest previous time at Hemlock was 1:34. Without a Garmin, I PR’d by 4 minutes!

When my Garmin returns with its new START button, I will definitely wear it, but sparingly. Running Garmin-free has shown me how to run on feel again, and that’ s a habit I don’t want to break.

Are you addicted to your Garmin? Do you need help? I will provide interventions free of charge…

3rd place at High Cloud Snapple Half Marathon

Right now I can’t decide whether to try to take a nap or write this blog. I’m shooting for the latter as so many thoughts are swimming around in my head that I think it will be impossible to sleep.

Why do I need a nap at 11:30 on a Sunday? Because last night was South Riding Running Club’s Annual Party and Awards Ceremony at my house (this is my last year as president so I decided to host just one more time) and I didn’t go to bed until 1am. Then I woke up at 4am because my legs were hurting (more about that later) and, after getting back to sleep at 5, was awoken by my boys at 7:30!

Yesterday I also ran a half marathon. When I signed up for the High Cloud Snapple Half Marathon way back when it was warm outside (remember?!) I pictured zipping along the picturesque C&O Canal towpath, taking in the gorgeous scenery and enjoying being on the trail and not the road. Even if there was a snowstorm during the race (which is what happened last year) it would still be fun.

The day before the race I received an e-mail from the race organizer. Along with logistical info the e-mail gave several words of caution about the conditions, as the towpath was covered in snow, ice, and downed trees from Wednesday’s storm. Such choice terms as “this course is not for the faint-hearted” and “if you like a challenge, come on out” had me laughing and looking forward even more to the race. I love a challenge! I laugh in the face of danger! Ha ha ha.

I did estimate that this would not be a PR run. Maybe I’d run 7:30 pace. The snow would slow me down a bit. Warming up on the towpath, I got a taste of just how hard this was going to be. The path was covered in snow, which I knew, but it was frozen and rutted in parts, and thick and powdery in others. I couldn’t decide which was worse – slipping through the powder or falling over the ruts. I couldn’t get a good footing on either. Hmm, I thought, maybe everyone will pack the snow down and the footing will improve. Maybe.

So the race started and I instantly began adjusting my expectations. I ran the first mile in 8:16 – the footing was impossible, as it was all powdery snow and there weren’t enough people in front of me to pack it down – and the second in 7:47 where the footing was a little better. There was a brief respite early on when the towpath went under a bridge so the path wasn’t snow-covered. I literally felt like I was running on air for those few steps. Then back to the snow, slush, and ice.

I began to wonder if I really could keep this up for another 11 miles. I had already turned my ankles a couple of times and my body was starting to tighten up from all the torquing. If you’d like an idea of what it was like, run along the side of the road in the ploughed snow. Not the nicely flattened stuff. Run in the lumpy, bumpy, rutted section. Yeah, you want to get off as soon as possible. I adjusted my plan again and decided I needed to continue to push but hold back a little otherwise I’d just exhaust myself. Every step was work and it was impossible to get into a rhythm, which is really essential for good racing. Ideally, you hit the pace you want and hold it there by keeping up a rhythm. Anything that throws you off your rhythm, such as a runner crossing in front of you, is detrimental to keeping that pace.

Then I started slowing, from an 8:07 to an 8:16 to an 8:30 and then an 8:52. That was mile 6. I remember no-one had passed me and I hadn’t passed anyone in a while when all of a sudden 3 guys blew by me like I was standing still. I usually look at my Garmin Forerunner GPS constantly during a race to check on my pace, but I hadn’t been able to do this because taking my eyes off the ground would throw me off balance and I’d stumble, so I didn’t realize my pace had slowed. I did manage to take in a Hammer Gel at 45 minutes although drinking the water to wash it down while stumbling around proved somewhat impossible!

While racing I play little games to take my mind off the effort. It was a little more difficult yesterday as I really had to concentrate on where I was putting my feet, but I looked around as much as possible, noting the locks that were used when the canal was in use, each with a lockkeeper’s cottage positioned alongside the towpath. I imagined what it must have looked like when it was in use. When I was 10 or so my parents took my three sisters and me on a canal boat vacation. I remember how much hard work – albeit fun – it was opening and closing the locks. We completely messed up with our first lock, and managed to flood a staircase lock – I have an enduring image in my mind of the lockkeeper shouting at us as we puttered off downstream leaving chaos in our wake - but by the end of the vacation we were pros at opening and closing them!

I was awoken from my little trip down memory lane by a volunteer yelling at me that I was 3rd female, which made me grouchy because 3rd is a spot you really don’t want to give up, but I felt frustrated because I had so little control over my speed. I tried various things such as taking smaller steps or running on my toes to keep myself from sliding, stumbling, and sinking, but nothing really worked. At the turnaround at 6.55 miles I noted that there were indeed 2 women in front of me and, horror of horrors, one close behind and several more behind her! I think that what often drives me more than trying to catch someone in front is trying not to be caught from behind. That’s just demoralizing. I tend to “run scared” that I’m going to be caught and tell myself that a rival is right behind me.

I couldn’t turn around and look – I rarely do this anyway as it was drilled into me at a young age that this shows your competition you’re afraid of them – because I would fall, but I convinced myself that the woman right behind was closing in and that I needed to run hard whenever I found my footing. Thankfully 300 runners had packed down some of the trail, and so it was easier on the way back. I would get into a little groove for a few minutes before stumbling again.

I ran 8:48, 8:25, 8:12, 8:18, and 8:07 for miles 7 – 11. I ate another Hammer Gel at 1:20. I hadn’t been passed and was actually passing men in front of me. Still couldn’t find elusive 2nd place woman, but one of the guys I passed told me she was just up ahead. I started trying to push a little harder for the last 2 miles but the terrain was worse with lots of slush where the snow had been churned up. I ran 8:24 for mile 12. I started trying to kick with one mile to go but here we hit powder and the harder I tried, the more I slid. Mile 13 was an 8:30. I could see the crowd at the finish line and hear them cheering, so I made one final effort and ran in stumbling and falling at a 7:21 pace for the last 0.1.

Third place in 1:50:22. Post-race there was soup (yum!) and hot chocolate, Snapple iced tea, bagels, bananas, cereal, and Pirate’s Booty. Once home I took an epsom salt bath (couldn’t deal with an ice bath) to try to flush out my sore legs. The outsides of my shins hurt the most, probably from turning my ankles so many times. Everyone else I spoke with after the race said they turned their ankles at least a dozen times! Certainly not a race for the faint-hearted. Today I am wearing my Skins compression tights and Sigvaris compression socks to stimulate bloodflow, which will flush out my legs.

I do recommend a run along the C&O Canal towpath and I do plan to go back – when it’s not snow-covered! It is absolutely beautiful.