Runapalooza: Finding My Stride Again

After participating in my first Jersey Girl Triathlon, my brain immediately wanted to commit to something big to chase that high again. It’s as if it forgot that I put it through a hard effort. The amnesia that comes post-race made me forget that I was laying on the couch for the rest of the day, and now I wanted to put it through MORE work. The spontaneous lizard part of my brain said to sign up for an Ironman, but the logical part had a big reality check when I saw the price tag for some of the upcoming 2025 races. I knew I needed more training time commitment, and I couldn’t justify spending $1000 on the entry fee alone when I still needed 1. A proper road bike and trailer hitch for my car, 2. A master’s swim program to improve my form, 3. More open water practice since the sea lice and large USOs (unidentified swimming objects) still freak me out, and 4. I was overdue for a big trip somewhere and inflation is no joke on the budget.

In the colder months, I focus mostly on strength training because of the lack of daylight and winter weather. However, I didn’t want to lose my endurance or movement that comes with cuddle weather, so I considered training for a spring half marathon. My 62-year-old client wanted to continue running outside weekly so he could improve his 5k time, so the unintentional accountability pushed me to add additional training miles in Q1 for myself.

I signed up for the Asbury Park Runapalooza. The event on April 5 featured a 5k, Half Marathon, or a Marathon Relay and I heard it was so popular in the area that it sold out fast. Because our Big Ass Calendar showed that weekend was free, I signed up as an early bird for the Half Marathon distance. With the race a little over 2 months out, I had enough time to work up to 13.1 miles again and still continue lifting and swimming.

I ran an average of 20-30 miles weekly, 3-5 days, and varied the intensity of my runs to feel fresh. On the coldest days, I bundled up in two layers plus a puffy vest, wore wool hiking socks, mittens with hand warmers, and a bright beanie. My outfits completely clashed and I also got strange looks from colleagues at work when my client and I looked like Michelin Men for our weekly training sessions. Every single Tuesday had the coldest temperature forecast this winter without fail (<20 degrees Fahrenheit), and many of my planned long runs on Thursdays or Fridays also showed no mercy. The only way to adapt is to get comfortable being uncomfortable, so I aimed for 8-10 mile runs ahead of schedule on the coldest and windiest days. The week from hell where Mark and I caught the norovirus and vomited for days interrupted my training, but I was able to get right back to the high volume as soon as I could eat again. The fact that I was able to run a sub-2 hour half at a leisurely pace in undesirable conditions on hills a few weeks before the race showed that I would be well prepared for the flat course in early spring.

I kept obsessively checking my weather app the week leading up to Runapalooza since it was expected to downpour. My first two half marathons nearly a decade ago took place in the rain, so I know I can race in those conditions, but I’m not a fan of the blisters and the boardwalk can get really slippery when wet. I did a quick shakeout run the day before and got caught in a downpour while on Sandy Hook. After crossing the bridge, I was leaping over puddles to avoid my sneakers getting fully soaked and took a slightly off step that felt weird on my right knee. I took a mental note to keep my eye on it for the race and to include more lateral movements in my strength training post-race. I really hoped the rest of the storm would pass before the gun goes off.

With my body fueled from my carb-loading all-you-can-eat sushi lunch the day before and a decent night’s sleep, I was ready to Palooza this Run. It was a little cold before the start and still threatening to rain, but despite my migraine I was excited to get going.

The Half Marathon runners mustered on Ocean Avenue in front of Wonder Bar and only after about a minute of me finding a spot to squeeze in, the gun (beep) went off and the pack charged forward. In all my training runs leading up to this race, my first mile was a warmup and a nice slow pace, but if I ran a 9:30 at that moment I would have been trampled like Mufasa in The Lion King (spoiler alert). My posture felt good, my cadence was speedy, and going the 8:31 pace felt pretty easy and helped get rid of the chills.

I stayed with the pack for the first 3 miles, which was an out-and-back on Lake Ave and my splits were looking good on my Garmin (8:31, 8:21, 8:00), and I got an extra little boost as I passed Mark who was taking pictures for me on the sidewalk. With that little speed boost, I headed north on Ocean Ave for a few tight turns to cross Deal Lake and run the street portion of the race.

I was speeding along, which consequently made me very thirsty. I had a running belt with a Polar water bottle that is meant for a bicycle, but I didn’t want to risk a new waist pack on race day. My waist shrinks in the cold, so my pants and the hydration belt were bouncing around too much even though my running form wasn’t bouncy. I kept getting annoyed from adjusting it, but I had to wear one for this race because I heard that in past years there wasn’t an adequate number of hydration stations along the route. I’d rather be prepared than bonk early from lack of water. I took cups from the few stops and sipped on my LiquidIV water between.

Even with the sensory problems and potential wardrobe malfunctions, my splits were still rolling. I hit 8:18, 8:11, 8:27, 8:32, and 8:24 as I ran through Allenhurst and Deal and back. I felt really good, but the side of the road that we were supposed to run on wasn’t clear so I probably lost a few seconds shifting to the different sides. The lead runners that headed south when I was still heading north were MOVING. I’m always impressed by their speed at this distance and how they fly across the pavement. It was a larger race and I saw some really fast ladies that looked like they were in their 30s, so I wasn’t going to win any age group awards for this race.

I started feeling my energy drop heading into mile 9 as I ran back to Asbury Park. Although I was maintaining a good speed, it was taking more effort to hang on to it. I would occasionally get distracted by someone with poor running form around me, but it reminded me that I’m being more efficient than them. Just seeing this person with a severe posterior pelvic tilt, no glutes, and overly tight calves made me feel pain for them. If they haven’t been to physical therapy after a running race yet, they were bound to experience serious injuries in the near future.

I traveled south past Dog Beach (where a few people with dogs on leashes heading to the beach almost tripped a few runners) on the boardwalk, which was a little slippery, and the course took a sharp right then left off the boardwalk back onto Ocean Ave for a bit until it turned left onto the boardwalk again just before the carousel building. I saw Mark on this part of the boardwalk so I smiled and waved at the camera as I zoomed past, trying not to make clothing adjustments while being recorded on film. My splits for miles 9 and 10 were still on par with earlier in the course (8:16, 8:19).

After passing the Steam Plant, the course continued on the boardwalk south through Ocean Grove, Bradley Beach, and Avon-by-the-Sea. Passing through Asbury Park before the second half of the race was a tease because you had a glimpse of the finish line but still had a few miles to go. Boardwalk running is deceiving too; it’s tough to tell the distance between you and the landmarks. Though still at a good pace, I slowed down a bit trying to conserve enough energy for the return trip from Avon to Asbury Park. I was not a fan of the tight turnaround on the boardwalk and that made my heart rate skyrocket. I hit 8:30 then 8:43 for miles 11 and 12.

In every race I choose a competitor to try to beat (and they have no idea they are The Chosen One), and one woman who was anywhere between 5 and 10 years younger than me was a few strides ahead. I wanted to pass her on the next straightaway, so I stalked her in the slipstream to maintain my speed around the Carousel Building and as soon as the boardwalk straightened out I put the pedal to the metal. I could see the finish line on the horizon, but it looked much farther away than I anticipated. I checked my watch and I still had a little over a half mile left, and I knew I couldn’t hold that pace for the next 5 minutes. I pushed but held onto my pace and the plan was to sprint for the last 0.1 mile.

Family and friends of the runners were lined up on both sides of the boardwalk. I had no idea where Mark stationed himself and I wanted to both push really hard for the end and not look like I was suffering for a few minutes. As I stepped closer to the finish line I could hear the announcer on the microphone pumping people up. As I felt my Garmin watch buzz on my wrist with 8:28 on the display, it was go time.

I lifted the crown of my head, adjusted my core, pumped my arms behind me furiously, opened up my stride, and leaned into the wooden planks hoping not to trip on a nail. I pretended the photographer right behind the finish line mat was reeling me in and I zipped past 3 runners that appeared to be taking their time at the end. I heard random people cheer once I passed and felt like I gave them a show. I stopped abruptly before colliding with the crowd of finishers that always stand way too close to the line and moved out of the way to stop my watch and catch my breath. The last 0.1 was a 7:31/mile effort. My Garmin time said I did 13.3 miles in 1:51:15 with an average pace of 8:22/mile so I was curious what my bib clocked.

I made sure the run saved and wandered the finish area while sipping on the last of my electrolyte water. I didn’t really take in my time or pace since it was about to rain. I found Mark and he tackled me with a hug and kiss and telling me how fast I went. Though slightly sore from the effort, I was giddy with a runner’s high and talking really fast between labored recovery breaths. We walked over to pick up my cute medal (that featured the famed Tilly) and grabbed water bottles and snacks from the tent and the rain started coming down. We weren’t waiting on anybody, so we walked fast to the car so I could get home and clean up before we indulged in our customary post-race gluttonous Asian food binge. I was craving a nice hot Vietnamese soup on this chilly day.

Why do I run so far? Because I PHO-king love noodles.  I finally checked my official results while slurping on my pho and completed Runapalooza in 1:51:11.4 at 8:29/mile pace, 23/151 for F35-39, and 469/2210 overall. I was only 4 seconds off from getting a new Half Marathon PR, but I was super proud because I’m a few years older, 20 pounds heavier, and was not in a marathon training block at the time and still managed to go this fast. I was ecstatic (and tired)!

I had such a runner’s high that I signed up just a few days later for the Marine Corps Marathon because I found my stride again. I’m so excited to begin training again.

Asbury Park Runapalooza 2025 Finisher Medal