Untold Stories of L.A. – The Little Runner That Could
November 7th, 2019
Today, I think my life may have changed. I woke up, feeling the weight of another mundane, ordinary day. I felt tired. Sluggish. Completely unmotivated. But I felt in my heart that I needed to go run. I didn’t want to. Since the breakup, my joy for the sport has come and gone. But after lounging around and procrastinating for over an hour, I threw on some running clothes, laced up my shoes, and began my first tempo run since September, before Long Beach Marathon. I felt surprisingly mentally clear. During the first mile, I knew I had made the right decision. 1 mile warmup. 4x 5min @ tempo pace w/2 min. recovery. 1 mile cooldown. I ran 1.5 miles to Glendale, CA’s beautiful track, and felt powered up to surge into tempo pace. My fastest mile was 6:54. I was just getting into a groove, when someone nearly stepped into my lane up ahead, flagging me down. I KNEW it was someone who would proceed to ask that I leave the track. In the middle of powering through tempo pace, I screeched to a halt and paused my watch.
“Excuse me, miss – sorry to interrupt your workout…but do you go to school here?”
I braced myself, trying to be polite & explanatory, KNOWING he was about to explain that his athletes were about to practice, and I needed to leave (this happened at CSUN last year. UGH!).
“I don’t! I live in Glendale and just run here from my place. I’ve been coming since last year.”
He cut to the chase.
“Are you in school anywhere? Are you finished?”
“I finished and now work as a sports massage therapist.”
“Did you ever run cross country or track in school?”
“In the past, I always wanted to, but never did.”
“You still can.”
I kind of stared; a little confused. He continued.
“I saw you running, and you are strong. Your stride needs some work and is choppy, and you could drop your elbows closer to your hips, but you have the strength and the endurance.”
“Yeah; my form is pretty terrible. I’ve just come off of a marathon, so I’m easing my way into training for another.”
“You would be great on our team. You couldn’t run the marathon while you train with us, but I would get you fast in the 5k and 10k. And in 2 years, you’d be even faster in the marathon.”
And from there, he asked about some of my times, told him my schedule, and was told I’d need at least 12 course units to be eligible to compete. But money. I’m currently trying to get more hours of work/income AND out of my current, toxic work environment…and build my savings and pay bills…so it feels like a bit of a gamble.
“I could see you doing the 10k and steeplechase,” Coach Lopez said. I replied that I would totally love to try it. Since I was a kid, I’ve ALWAYS secretly wished to run track. When I was a younger girl, I remember having this distinct vision of being in my lane at a race, getting myself set and in starting position to race. For now? Things unfold.
November 9th, 2019
I woke up @ 5AM this morning. I calculated ALL the reasons I should just bail on meeting the team – soon to be MY training partners – for the 10 mile long run at Griffith Park. The “What Ifs?” and nerves came flooding in. And then, apathy. The worst. I asked myself WHY, and quickly concluded:
The Enemy doesn’t want me to press into this new adventure and joy.
I got up, made a cinnamon raisin bagel w/pb&j, some mushroom cacao tea, and did some dynamic stretching. I met a large group of runners at Griffith Park, and wasn’t sure what their “easy pace” would be. My easy pace is 8:30-9:00/mile.
“Hopefully we won’t be sub 8:00,” I thought.
I said “Hi!” to Coach, and he said that since they had their championship meet yesterday, the pace would be moderate.
“Not too fast; not too slow,” he said.
Uhm…”Easy” was 7:44/mile. For 10 MILES. I felt amazing at first. Everyone stopped 1.8 miles in to stretch, and I thought,
“Wow. If I can do high mileage, nonstop, no breaks, this run will be a piece of cake.”
I was wrong. So very wrong. Running on a trail packed down with SAND @ 7:44 pace, and barely reaching 8 miles after my horrific marathon experience…was no bueno.
I BONKED…5 miles in. Luckily, everyone stopped for water/stretching…but this pace felt like my tempo runs! At mile 7, I died off to merely 9:00/mile. Phoebe, the calming, kind, British team captain came to my rescue. In her sweet English accent, she said,
“Anna, if you want the shorter route, you can take this trail.”
But though my legs were dead – as was my mental game – I wanted to finish. Phoebe paced me; hills, sand, pain, all of it. And when I would start to fade away or said,
“I’m going to dial it back and draft you,”
she gently yet firm in motivation said,
“No, no…come on!”
And I did.
And I’m going to do it again and again and again. I wane to be molded into an athlete – blood, sweat, tears. Though I’ve run for 3 years, XC/Track are new territory. Coach has me as their 3rd long distance runner and wants me in the 10k and steeplechase.
Scary. Territory. But I want it. I have scary, lofty goals. But with a lot of grit and determination, I WILL get them.