Those of you who know me well know that I was fairly disappointed in my finish time at the Marine Corps Marathon last October. You can read the race report here. It's not that I wasn't thankful for a PR and a Boston-Qualifying time on my second marathon. It's just that I had trained to run a 3:30, not a 3:53! I had followed the 18-week, 55-70 mile/week, training plan from Pfitzinger's Advanced Marathoning. It's a good, solid plan, and it led to great improvements in both my endurance and speed. I had gone in fairly confident of hitting my goal within 5-10 minutes. The disappointment of missing my goal by 23 minutes was a bitter pill to swallow.
I don't stay down for long though! We had not even driven halfway home from Washington, D.C., before I was plotting my "come-back/revenge" race. I briefly considered running the Jacksonville Marathon in December, but it only allowed one month of recovery time. In retrospect, I'm glad I held off.
Instead, I set my sights on the Tallahassee Marathon on February 3, 2013. The race had several things going for it. The first and biggest was that Tallahassee is my home town. Instead of hauling the family on a 10-hour car trip, staying in three different hotels, walking through museums for three days, and navigating DC traffic, I would be staying with my parents or sister, having a short and easy drive, and avoiding the general stress of a family vacation.
Another advantage to the Tallahassee Marathon is that the course is pancake flat. I like that. Don't get me wrong - hills are good for you (really, they are!). However, I train on a flat trail near home, so this was the best course I could hope for. The weather is typically fairly dry in February, and the 5-year temperatures for race day appeared to be in a very good range as well. Therefore, all I had to do was to get ready to run another 26.2 - this time without starting to fall apart half-way through the race and then totally falling apart in the last four miles.
Although I took a slightly different approach this cycle, training went fairly well until last Saturday, two weeks before race day. The plan that day was to run a dress rehearsal. I aimed to run little over 19 miles at somewhere very close to marathon goal pace (8:00/mile). Although the stats for that day showed I ran an average pace of about 8:17, the experience was (as the title of this post indicates)...devastating.
The first half of the run went fine until just before the turn-around. I could tell I was breathing kind of hard. However, I reasoned that the trail had a slight incline there, and that with a10-minute break at a slower pace, I would rally. When the ten minutes were up, I was not at all eager to run 60 more minutes at pace. I had fueled that morning with a slice of toast with peanut butter, a half a banana, and 8-oz water. I carried 23-oz of G2 (actually, it was the Kirkland brand - from Costco - of a sports drink, containing 40 calories) and 3 Accel gels. The temperature was just above freezing, so I wasn't worried too much about becoming dehydrated.
In the second half of the run, I experienced several symptoms that gradually worsened: blurred vision, graying out around the edges of my vision, headache, disorientation, inability to focus, nausea, heavy breathing, and extreme fatigue. Keep in mind, I'm sort of used to hard runs. I know what it is to be tired. This was far worse. I felt like I could drop onto the grass and instantly fall into a deep sleep. However, I am not one to quit. Even when my running buddies noticed that I was not looking or sounding good, I kept going. I think I would have run until I actually passed out. Fortunately, that did not happen. In looking at my stats, I saw that I had almost hit my goal pace for the run (I ran about an 8:17 average pace). However, I had felt completely spent with still four miles to go. It was truly grueling.
I stopped running about a third of a mile short of the end, turned off my watch, and walked the remaining distance. Even that was very, very hard. I got in my car and drove 5 minutes home, noting that my vision was extremely blurry. As soon as I opened the door, I requested that my husband get me some Advil, very quickly! Something made me decide to take my blood pressure. To my utter amazement, it was almost a coma-inducing low of 76/55! No wonder I felt like passing out! My head throbbed for about an hour after that, but after a couple of hours, I was glad to see my blood pressure rise to about 100/61. By that night, it was back in the normal range at 124/77.
For the next few days, as I stroked my wounded ego and dealt with an incredibly low confidence level, I undertook the task of thoroughly research blood pressure and running. Because I take 10mg Lisinopril nightly (a low dose) to combat a mild, but persistent case of hypertension, I also checked into how that drug might impact my running. Friends and family urged me to see a doctor, but something told me that the only things a doctor would do are 1) tell me not to run so hard, which is completely unacceptable, 2) adjust my dose of medicine, or 3) try a new medicine.
I decided I would get to know my BP range very well. For the next few days, I took a reading first thing in the morning, another at 9:00 at night, and one I track separately after every run. My morning BP is much lower than my evening BP (this is typical). I also decided to do a test (totally NOT doctor recommended or approved) of going off the medicine for two days. After two days, my BP rose to just in the "mildly elevated" range. When I went back on the med, my BP returned to normal by the next day. Therefore, taking this approach seemed like a good strategy to ensure my BP stayed high enough on very long runs, and especially for the marathon.
Since I planned to run another 19-miler the next Saturday (this morning), I stopped taking the medicine two days ahead of time. My BP this morning was 147/83. That's a bit high, but I know that it's not scary high. Again, I fueled about the same. The only difference was that I drank 16-oz of water with a Nuun tablet about an hour before the run. I wanted to make sure hydration wasn't an issue.
I gave myself full permission to adjust pace to how I felt. I was not going to push it. However, because last week's run was pretty devastating, I seriously hoped this run would provide some sort of psychological boost. I'll cut to the chase; it went incredibly well!! Although I was not aiming to run as fast as I did last week, my pace was actually a tiny bit faster (an 8:15 average). What's even better is that I felt comfortable the whole time. By mile 15, I was feeling downright frisky! Therefore I loosened the reins a little. Miles 16 and 17 were at just over a 7:30 pace. I then decided to slow down a little at the end (because the marathon is in a week, and I really shouldn't have run this far or fast). However, I still coasted in very comfortably with times just under an 8:00 pace. Best of all, when I got back, my BP was a fairly decent 106/69.
The med strategy appears to have worked well to keep my BP from plummeting drastically at the end of a long run (again, I'm sure any doctors reading this would heartily frown upon this approach). I doubt I'll ever get off the Lisinopril totally because my weight, nutrition, and fitness level are already very good and my average BP runs a little high. However, I got the desired boost of confidence I need for next Sunday. I plan to go out slow and listen to my body. I would so much rather have a negative split than a heavily positive one, and I really, really don't want to feel like crying or passing out during the last 10K of the race. If I can avoid these two things, I don't mind if I miss my goal by a little. As a good friend says, a marathon finish time is just one more data point in life. I am proud and happy about what my body can do when I run. A good run delivers some of the best endorphins imaginable and does wonders for my self-esteem, even if/when I suffer a disappointment.
So, be on the lookout for a race report in the next couple of weeks!
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Monday, December 31, 2012
Year-end Review
I'll try my best to summarize the year of running through the lists, bullet points, and photos below...
The Stats:
Total miles run in 2012: 2,432Most miles run in a week: 70
Most miles run in a month: 258
Number of 18+ mile training runs: 14
Total number of racing events: 19
Weight: 112.5 beginning of the year; 112.0 end of year
The Races:
Marathons: 2 - Albany Marathon (4:00:16) and Marine Corps Marathon (3:53:56)Trail Marathons: 1 - Twisted Ankle Marathon (5:43:01)
196-mile Ultra Relay Race (team of 12): 1 - Southern Odyssey Relay
Half Marathons: 5 (1:40:13 PR)
15Ks: 1 (1:10:15 PR)
10Ks: 5 (45:23 PR)
5Ks: 4 (24:30 PR)
For full details on the races, please see my race history page.
The Highlights:
- earning a qualifying time for the Boston Marathon during my second marathon (a sweet bonus that was not even a blip on my radar screen at the beginning of the year)
- earning a spot in Corral A of the Peachtree Road Race 10K for the first time on my 20th year running it
- running the Peachtree Road Race with my husband (whose time I actually beat this year!) and with SO many of my best buddies
- experiencing the joy of success in winning PRs on every single distance of race this year
- earning several race awards
- having some training days where I felt truly fabulous from start to finish
- training with my 9-year-old daughter and running her first 5K with her
- meeting so many wonderful running friends online and in person
- running long runs and training daily with several very special friends (you all know who you are!)
- traveling to Charlotte, NC, to run a half marathon with a friend I met online through her blog, and then having her visit me to run the Twisted Ankle marathon
- having a tremendous support group via Daily Mile; being inspired there by some truly terrific athletes; and seeing everyone who stuck with their running throughout the year make progress
- participating in racing events with Adventure Runners and Running Divas, as well as many Daily Mile and Tallahassee friends
- frolicking around and running at all hours of the day and night with the five other people in my van at the Southern Odyssey Relay
- walking into the choir room the day after both my marathons and being treated like a celebrity!
- praying with Francis before our runs and races
- talking with other runners about anything and everything (Hello, nice to meet you. So, we're going to be doing this run for a looong time. Time me your life's story!)
- getting gloriously and severely spray-painted in bright multi-colors as I dashed through the Color Run 5K
- running with new friends from different countries and enjoying listening to their super-cool accents as the miles melted away
- attending an event hosted by the ladies of Another Mother Runner and being spotlighted on Sarah and Dimity's wonderful blog
- purchasing a flowery double-ruffle running skirt from Lululemon after seeing Sarah display it on a tweet (LOVE that skirt!)
- keeping myself injury-free, even when the miles piled on, and seeing my legs get slim and toned, even while getting to eat more calories
- experiencing an eagerness to run at an extremely high level all year long, through any kind of weather and even in the early, dark, cold winter mornings
- celebrating with friends on their successes, commiserating them on letdowns, and motivating them as best I could through training
- enjoying watching the seasons change on my beloved Silver Comet Trail
- feeling strong support and love from my family as I pursued goal after goal
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| Race Bling! |
There were only a few of what I'd consider low-lights:
- running my first marathon through a severe thunderstorm with buckets of rain, thunder, high winds, and puddles everywhere :-(
- leaping over what I thought was a gnarly root in the trail marathon and discovering in mid-air that it was a 3' rattlesnake! Still having nightmares....
- losing my MCM race number in a prior hotel, discovering it the night before the marathon, suffering anguish, lack of sleep, and less-than-stellar race results
- falling several times on trails and busting up hands and knees
- tripping over a speed hump (of all things) and severely bending back two fingers a week before my first marathon
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| Major OUCH!!! |
2012 Goals:
- Run at least 1,800 miles this year. BLOWN AWAY at 2,436!
- Run in at least 1 race per month. Got in at least one a month, for 19 total!
- Run a marathon. Did two!
- Run a time that served as a qualifier for Corral A in the Peachtree Road Race 10K. Qualified via a 10K, but later even qualified in every race distance except the 5K (What can I say? Short runs are just not my thing.).
- Stay injury-free. Managed to do this! Hallelujah!
- Have fun. Had way more fun than I even dared hope!
It has been such a successful year that, in looking ahead, I'm not at all sure what to hope for in 2013. These goals are almost all going to be stupendously challenging, but I am daring to aim high!
2013 Goals:
- Run 2,500 miles in 2013.
- Run two marathons. (The first one is coming up in early February. My A goal is a 3:30.)
- Run an ultra distance race.
- Run a 1:38 half marathon, preferably at the Berry Half since a friend and I sort of have a friendly challenge going on. :-)
- Earn a mug at the Peachtree Road Race 10K. To do that, I need to aim for a sub-43-minute 10K. Yikes.
- Train for another 5K with my daughter and help her place in her age group.
Having fun and staying injury-free are, of course, on my list for every year!
Photo Review
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| Starting the year off right, racing beside John at the Resolution 10K |
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| Tartan Trot 10K where I met sweet & hilarious Tad |
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| Berry Half Marathon where I shaved 16 minutes of my half marathon time & won 3rd in my AG |
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| Hanging with Adventure Runners after the race |
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| Flashing some leg before the Albany Marathon |
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| Getting to meet super-inspiring Danielle & running the NC Half with her! |
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| Getting light-headed & pink-toothed at the Color Run 5K |
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| Meeting Sarah of Another Mother Runner in person! |
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| Winning 3rd place & earning Peachtree-qualifying time at the Run the River 10K |
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| Training with my daughter on the Silver Comet Trail |
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| Watching her mighty dash to the finish line of her first 5K! |
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| Trail running with buds (12 miles were completed after I bloodied my knee in a fall) |
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| Three Musketeers (Danielle, Tom, & I) at the Twisted Ankle Marathon |
Francis, looking serene, after generously pacing me to a new PR on the Dawsonville Half (truly, a highlight of my year!)
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| Tad, helping me through the excruciating last quarter mile of the Possum Trot 10K |
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| 1st Place AG & 10K PR of 45:23 at the Possum Trot!! |
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| Hubby & friends, ALL in Corral A before the Peachtree 10K (I got to run with the big kids!) |
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| Hanging out with the gang in Piedmont Park |
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| Enjoyable moment with fellow Running Divas, reuniting at last with sorority sister, Laura! |
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| Feeling the heat at the Alien Half on a late August afternoon |
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| 2nd place Master's female at the Chick-fil-A 5K |
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| Smiling after pulling a 1:40:15 at the hilly Allstate Half! |
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| At the start line of the Southern Odyssey Ultra Relay |
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| At the finish line of the relay, 28 hours later, and still smiling! |
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| Digging deep for some mojo at mile 18 of the Marine Corps Marathon |
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| Showing off gorgeous marathon medals with fellow Leon HS grad, Steve |
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| Running in the Tallahassee Turkey Trot 15K with awesome ultra buddy, Gary |
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Race Recap: Marine Corps Marathon
On October 28, 2012, I ran my second marathon, the 37th Annual Marine Corps Marathon, in Washington, D.C. The race was a unique blend of successes and disappointments. A particularly daunting set of pre-race circumstances, plus wildly windy conditions in the second half of the course, brought on significant challenges, both physical and mental.
Women: top 8.1%
45-49 Age Group: top 6.5%
If you want the long, drawn-out, full-blown story, read on!
I definitely learned a few lessons about marathons in a most painful way. First, it is not wise to try to combine a family vacation with running a marathon. One of the ways I rationalized the expense of this race was to turn it into some grand educational field trip for the whole family. We left early on a Wednesday morning from Atlanta, drove 10.5 hours to Harper's Ferry, WV, took a walking ghost tour that night, and then stayed in a nearby hotel. The next morning we visited Antietam Battlefield, MD where we took another walking tour, and then headed DC for the pre-race expo and finally to our hotel in Fairfax. The next two days were spent at the Newseum and the National Museum of Natural History. One night we drove out to Ashburn for dinner with cousins and the other we met up with two friends from high school for dinner at a restaurant in Alexandria. In total, we stayed at three different hotels over four nights.
Second, it is not wise to do a lot of walking and running in the days leading up to a race, especially when you don't know the area. In addition to walking around in Harper's Ferry during the ghost tour, I did a four-mile shake-out run the next morning without having surveyed the terrain ahead of time. After I set out, I spotted a sign noting a 7% grade for the next mile or so. I managed to run up and down the long hill without too much problem, but it may have cost me in terms of sore muscles. Either that tackling that hill, or the making the hike up and down a watch tower at the battlefield, or the hours I spent walking around DC museums (or possibly a combination of the three) left me with unexpectedly sore quads the afternoon before the race. That soreness would certainly plague me later.
Third, it is certainly not wise to pack so much into said vacation that you get distracted and forget things. This very thought dawned on me when I was setting out my race things at 9pm the night before the marathon. To my horror, I discovered my race bib was missing! I frantically tried to recall where I had placed it after I left the expo. My husband reminded me that I had put it under a lamp at the prior hotel to (of all the stupid things) smooth out the wrinkles. Ugh!! Although the hotel was 45 minutes away, I figured I could still drive back out to Fairfax to retrieve it. A call to the hotel, though, confirmed my worst fears. The bib was toast. It didn't take long for panic, and then despair, to grip me. I had unwittingly sabotaged my chance to run this race after 18 weeks of training, after paying $92 for a race number, and after dragging the whole family up to DC. I had no one to blame but myself. Tears ensued, and then I just ached. I thought of all the friends and family who had been so supportive and who were cheering me on. I couldn't bear to post the bad news on Facebook that night.
I didn't even lay down until after midnight. Although I figured it was pointless to have hope, I still wanted to go to the start line and just see if there was a chance... I laid out a few things and set my alarm for 4:30 so I could leave by 5:15. I hardly slept a wink and had tortured nightmares when I did. For whatever crazy reason, my alarm did NOT go off at 4:30. Since I was laying there mostly awake, I drearily glanced over at my clock. It was 5:03!! I leaped out of bed. With 12 minutes to get ready, I frantically slathered up and got dressed while my husband stirred up a quick bowl of oatmeal for me. After choking down what I could, I seized my race bag and flew out the door. I faced a 0.6 mile walk to reach the Metro.
Then, about half way to the station, my phone rang. I had left my Garmin! In yet another frantic dash, I sprinted back to the room, grabbed the watch, and then sprinted all the way to the Metro. Yes, folks, I was certainly awake by then! There, I met up again with my two friends from high school. Steve was running his first marathon that day, and Jonathan, an absolute saint, had driven down from Wilmington, DE, just to cheer us on.
I laid the news on them and they commiserated with me. Such sad thoughts ran through my mind. I was really, really, really down on myself at that point. Still, we rode the Metro and walked solemnly into the runners village. Jonathan quickly scouted out a tent that looked promising. We entered, and a nice female marine smiled up at me. I humbly presented my case, along with my ID, my number confirmation e-mail, and a patch I had received at the expo. I was even prepared to show her the photo on my phone where I was holding my original bib. Then, I almost fell on the floor when I heard her utter the words, "NO PROBLEM!!!!" She simply retrieved a bib from her secret stash, attached my information to it electronically, and wished me well! It was so stinking easy that I was flabbergasted.
I can't even explain how this revelation gripped me. It required a paradigm shift in my thinking! I walked over to Jonathan and Steve in stunned happiness. I was going to run! Processing that thought completely never really happened, I'm sure. I was pretty much on auto-pilot until race time. We found the restrooms and water, sat for a few minutes shivering in the brisk wind, and laughed over stories of high school grad night at Disney World. In no time at all, we headed over to the corrals to get lined up.
Not far from the start line was the 3:30 corral. There were pacers for those aiming for 3:25 and 3:35, but none for 3:30. I just lined up with the 3:25 guy, but did not make any plans to stay with him. The wind was already blowing then, but at least the temperature was pretty much ideal, and not a drop of rain fell.
I have not even mentioned up to this point the fact that Hurricane Sandy had been expected for almost a week. For some perspective, I ran my first marathon through a severe thunderstorm that offered up heavy wind, rain, thunder, lightning, mud puddles, and a tornado siren. When I saw that the chances were good for another stormy marathon, I was furious at first, but then I resigned myself to the inevitable. Friends jokingly asked me to remind them not to sign up for any marathons in the same places where *I* would be running! Others suggested I should change the spelling of my name to "Gale!" Yet another friend sent me this from Newton Running to give me a laugh!
Yet, with all the hype, we ended up beating the main thrust of the storm. A day later, though, and there would have been no race at all. Sandy proved to be a mighty storm.
At that point, we had reached some woods. On either side, I couldn't help but notice dozens of guys facing away, stopping to relieve themselves. It was funny how completely still they looked compared to everyone around who was moving rapidly around the lake. Shortly after that, I passed a wheelchair racer who was struggling. After wishing him well, I moved on and tried to fall into a rhythm. My fastest mile was mile 6, where I clocked in at 7:41. My first 10K split of 49:46 was only 4 seconds off my goal! In the back of my mind, though, I sort of grudgingly felt that my "easy" pace should have actually felt a little easier, especially with less than a fourth of the journey completed. The hill at mile 7 was a bit steeper and longer than the first hill had been. I definitely felt a push in making it up that one. However, I still managed to maintain my pace and was able to rest a bit on the back side of it. I kept checking my watch and reminding myself to slow down. In checking times, I see that I did a pretty good job at staying just over or under the 8:00 prescribed pace for the next few miles.
At mile 12, I saw a guy who had been nearby at the start of the race. He complimented me for keeping such a steady pace and mentioned that he had seen me 7 or 8 times. I never saw him after that, however. I did spy my friend, Jonathon, smiling a waving to me from one of the bridges soon afterward, and the bands started picking up then too. One band was playing "Gangnam Style," and I could tell it was a big crowd-pleaser.
Unfortunately, somewhere in that 13th mile the wind started picking up. I allowed myself a brief 20-step walk even though I really resented doing it. I vaguely recall noting at the halfway point that my time was 1:47:09 as opposed to my goal of just under 1:45. At a little over 2 minutes off my goal, I still knew in the back of my mind I was doing my best, and so I tried to ignore my watch from then on. Just before mile 13, I stopped and picked up a chocolate Gu packet, hoping it would give me a little energy. My mouth was far drier than I had expected, and I couldn't wait to hit the next water station.
Unfortunately, things went rapidly downhill in the second half. The wind was fierce in miles 13 and 14, and my pace was 8:46 and 9:00 in those two miles. At least there were many funny signs to help distract the runners from their pains. One said, "Smile if you are chafing." I count myself very fortunate to have encountered very little chafing through the whole race even with minimal Glide hastily applied. I also felt lucky to have sustained no blistered or purple toenails.
I knew that my pace was slipping with each consecutive mile, but I just felt really tired. By mile 17, a friendly guy reminded me, "You only have a 5K and a 10K to go. Run the 5K first." I so badly wanted to stick by him for the whole rest of the race. His pace wasn't all that much faster than mine was, but I just couldn't go any faster. We were running toward the capitol building at that point, and I did rally a bit with the excitement of approaching that landmark and the photographers everywhere snapping shots.
Just around the corner, though, at about mile 19, we hit a long, yucky, straight, slightly uphill stretch along a very boring road. My quads began to ache terribly. Strangely, I also became incredibly sleepy. Who ever heard of being sleepy when you're in that much pain??! However, I remember sort of closing my eyes a couple times and feeling like I was in the middle of a nightmare. The lack of sleep the night before and also the prior nights had certainly caught up with me. I checked my watch and decided I could still be very happy with a 3:45 finish. Alas, even that was not meant to be. I started walking...a lot. Then I started crying. My mental stash of happy thoughts completely left me. My quads ached terribly. The wind was whipping something fierce and blowing me around like a twig.
In one of my darkest moments, I spotted two female marines standing on the sidelines cheering. They seemed to sense my distress. Then, to my utter amazement, these two angels flew to my aid! One got on either side of me and they ran along with me for at least a quarter of a mile. During that whole time they said incredibly encouraging things. Of course, that made me cry even more! I smiled through the tears, though, and pushed on. Miles 24 and 25 were a dismal 10:55 and 11:00. I remember stopping for a moment and trying to stretch my legs a little. I could tell that others were suffering too. Those miles were even worse than in my first marathon. That's where my last hope of a 3:45 was squashed for good.
You can see me cross the finish line in this video. Scroll to just before 3 minutes and 40 seconds. Then look on the right side of the screen. I come across within the next 3 seconds after that.
I went through the finish gates with that "agony of defeat" look, and I tried not to look at the clock. The tiny ray of light was the fact that at least I had beat my first marathon time and I had beat 4 hours. When I saw the marine waiting to put the finisher metal around my neck, I cried yet again. Then I went through a long receiving line shaking hands and trying to smile. I was so tired that I didn't even manage to get a photo in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial or get my finisher jacket.
My mind was focused solely on getting my post-race rations and getting to the massage table where I was to meet up with my family and Jonathan. I hobbled along in that tell-tale shuffle that only a fellow marathoners fully understands.
Relief washed over me when I saw that there was practically no wait for a massage. I honestly have never hurt so badly. I don't know if it was all the walking at the museums, or the steps of the tower I climbed, or a combination of everything, but I just hurt. I flopped my weary body down on the table and groaned with relief as the capable hands of the masseuse worked on my calves, quads, hammies, and glutes.
Soon after that, I met up with Jonathan, who gave me a warm jacket and 4 Advil. I was starting to get cold. My family then arrived and gave me hugs. After that, we had a long Metro ride, a quick shower, and a 10.5 hour car trip back to Atlanta, where I fell into bed at 2am, thoroughly exhausted.
Not defeated in the least in spite of everything, I was already plotting my re-match plans in the car on the way home. On the books so far is the Tallahassee Marathon on February 3. This one will be in my home town on a nice and flat course. I also have a friend who is also aiming for that elusive 3:30, and might run with me. The post-race recovery is already killing me and I am chomping at the bit to hit the trail again!
Bottom line:
After training for 18 weeks, following Pfitzinger's 55-70 miles per week schedule, I felt as prepared as I could make myself. Unfortunately, I did not meet my ambitious A goal of 3:30, my B goal of 3:40, or even my C goal of 3:45. On a positive note, though, I still set a PR, beating my first marathon time by over 7 minutes. I also earned a time that qualified me to run the prestigious Boston Marathon (YAY!) in April, 2014. I can further claim that I had a truly patriotic (albeit painful) marathon experience.Official results:
A few other race stats:
Overall: top 14.8%Women: top 8.1%
45-49 Age Group: top 6.5%
If you want the long, drawn-out, full-blown story, read on!
Pre-race drama:
I definitely learned a few lessons about marathons in a most painful way. First, it is not wise to try to combine a family vacation with running a marathon. One of the ways I rationalized the expense of this race was to turn it into some grand educational field trip for the whole family. We left early on a Wednesday morning from Atlanta, drove 10.5 hours to Harper's Ferry, WV, took a walking ghost tour that night, and then stayed in a nearby hotel. The next morning we visited Antietam Battlefield, MD where we took another walking tour, and then headed DC for the pre-race expo and finally to our hotel in Fairfax. The next two days were spent at the Newseum and the National Museum of Natural History. One night we drove out to Ashburn for dinner with cousins and the other we met up with two friends from high school for dinner at a restaurant in Alexandria. In total, we stayed at three different hotels over four nights.
Second, it is not wise to do a lot of walking and running in the days leading up to a race, especially when you don't know the area. In addition to walking around in Harper's Ferry during the ghost tour, I did a four-mile shake-out run the next morning without having surveyed the terrain ahead of time. After I set out, I spotted a sign noting a 7% grade for the next mile or so. I managed to run up and down the long hill without too much problem, but it may have cost me in terms of sore muscles. Either that tackling that hill, or the making the hike up and down a watch tower at the battlefield, or the hours I spent walking around DC museums (or possibly a combination of the three) left me with unexpectedly sore quads the afternoon before the race. That soreness would certainly plague me later.
The expo:
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| Here's a photo from the expo where I was pointing to the goal! |
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| I'm proudly showing off my original race number. Little did I know... |
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| The kids had so much fun at the expo. It was like pre-race trick-or-treating for them, and we came back with a fully loaded bag of loot. |
Third, it is certainly not wise to pack so much into said vacation that you get distracted and forget things. This very thought dawned on me when I was setting out my race things at 9pm the night before the marathon. To my horror, I discovered my race bib was missing! I frantically tried to recall where I had placed it after I left the expo. My husband reminded me that I had put it under a lamp at the prior hotel to (of all the stupid things) smooth out the wrinkles. Ugh!! Although the hotel was 45 minutes away, I figured I could still drive back out to Fairfax to retrieve it. A call to the hotel, though, confirmed my worst fears. The bib was toast. It didn't take long for panic, and then despair, to grip me. I had unwittingly sabotaged my chance to run this race after 18 weeks of training, after paying $92 for a race number, and after dragging the whole family up to DC. I had no one to blame but myself. Tears ensued, and then I just ached. I thought of all the friends and family who had been so supportive and who were cheering me on. I couldn't bear to post the bad news on Facebook that night.
I didn't even lay down until after midnight. Although I figured it was pointless to have hope, I still wanted to go to the start line and just see if there was a chance... I laid out a few things and set my alarm for 4:30 so I could leave by 5:15. I hardly slept a wink and had tortured nightmares when I did. For whatever crazy reason, my alarm did NOT go off at 4:30. Since I was laying there mostly awake, I drearily glanced over at my clock. It was 5:03!! I leaped out of bed. With 12 minutes to get ready, I frantically slathered up and got dressed while my husband stirred up a quick bowl of oatmeal for me. After choking down what I could, I seized my race bag and flew out the door. I faced a 0.6 mile walk to reach the Metro.
Then, about half way to the station, my phone rang. I had left my Garmin! In yet another frantic dash, I sprinted back to the room, grabbed the watch, and then sprinted all the way to the Metro. Yes, folks, I was certainly awake by then! There, I met up again with my two friends from high school. Steve was running his first marathon that day, and Jonathan, an absolute saint, had driven down from Wilmington, DE, just to cheer us on.
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| Steve, Jonathan, and I met up the afternoon before and took this shot at the Washington Monument. |
I can't even explain how this revelation gripped me. It required a paradigm shift in my thinking! I walked over to Jonathan and Steve in stunned happiness. I was going to run! Processing that thought completely never really happened, I'm sure. I was pretty much on auto-pilot until race time. We found the restrooms and water, sat for a few minutes shivering in the brisk wind, and laughed over stories of high school grad night at Disney World. In no time at all, we headed over to the corrals to get lined up.
Not far from the start line was the 3:30 corral. There were pacers for those aiming for 3:25 and 3:35, but none for 3:30. I just lined up with the 3:25 guy, but did not make any plans to stay with him. The wind was already blowing then, but at least the temperature was pretty much ideal, and not a drop of rain fell.
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| Hanging out in the start corral with the wind whipping around me |
Yet, with all the hype, we ended up beating the main thrust of the storm. A day later, though, and there would have been no race at all. Sandy proved to be a mighty storm.
First half of the race:
My first half was actually fairly smooth, and I stayed on track to achieve the anticipated 3:30 finish. As we started off, I knew I would face a hill in the first couple of miles and another at miles 7 and 8. Therefore, I kept my pacing nice and easy up the first hill. Even though the road was fairly crowded, I never felt the need to waste energy dodging anyone. I had planned to make up some time going down the hill (as I have been so successful doing in the past), but as soon as I reached that point I was seized by two side stitches. Each pounding step made them worse. Reluctantly, I checked my pace and instead focused on using deep, measured breathing and a gentle step to get rid of the stitches.
At that point, we had reached some woods. On either side, I couldn't help but notice dozens of guys facing away, stopping to relieve themselves. It was funny how completely still they looked compared to everyone around who was moving rapidly around the lake. Shortly after that, I passed a wheelchair racer who was struggling. After wishing him well, I moved on and tried to fall into a rhythm. My fastest mile was mile 6, where I clocked in at 7:41. My first 10K split of 49:46 was only 4 seconds off my goal! In the back of my mind, though, I sort of grudgingly felt that my "easy" pace should have actually felt a little easier, especially with less than a fourth of the journey completed. The hill at mile 7 was a bit steeper and longer than the first hill had been. I definitely felt a push in making it up that one. However, I still managed to maintain my pace and was able to rest a bit on the back side of it. I kept checking my watch and reminding myself to slow down. In checking times, I see that I did a pretty good job at staying just over or under the 8:00 prescribed pace for the next few miles.
At mile 12, I saw a guy who had been nearby at the start of the race. He complimented me for keeping such a steady pace and mentioned that he had seen me 7 or 8 times. I never saw him after that, however. I did spy my friend, Jonathon, smiling a waving to me from one of the bridges soon afterward, and the bands started picking up then too. One band was playing "Gangnam Style," and I could tell it was a big crowd-pleaser. Unfortunately, somewhere in that 13th mile the wind started picking up. I allowed myself a brief 20-step walk even though I really resented doing it. I vaguely recall noting at the halfway point that my time was 1:47:09 as opposed to my goal of just under 1:45. At a little over 2 minutes off my goal, I still knew in the back of my mind I was doing my best, and so I tried to ignore my watch from then on. Just before mile 13, I stopped and picked up a chocolate Gu packet, hoping it would give me a little energy. My mouth was far drier than I had expected, and I couldn't wait to hit the next water station.
Second half of the race:
Unfortunately, things went rapidly downhill in the second half. The wind was fierce in miles 13 and 14, and my pace was 8:46 and 9:00 in those two miles. At least there were many funny signs to help distract the runners from their pains. One said, "Smile if you are chafing." I count myself very fortunate to have encountered very little chafing through the whole race even with minimal Glide hastily applied. I also felt lucky to have sustained no blistered or purple toenails.
I knew that my pace was slipping with each consecutive mile, but I just felt really tired. By mile 17, a friendly guy reminded me, "You only have a 5K and a 10K to go. Run the 5K first." I so badly wanted to stick by him for the whole rest of the race. His pace wasn't all that much faster than mine was, but I just couldn't go any faster. We were running toward the capitol building at that point, and I did rally a bit with the excitement of approaching that landmark and the photographers everywhere snapping shots.
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| Brief exhilaration at passing the capitol |
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| I may look rough, but check out the middle guy! |
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| I think these may have been the two ladies! |
In one of my darkest moments, I spotted two female marines standing on the sidelines cheering. They seemed to sense my distress. Then, to my utter amazement, these two angels flew to my aid! One got on either side of me and they ran along with me for at least a quarter of a mile. During that whole time they said incredibly encouraging things. Of course, that made me cry even more! I smiled through the tears, though, and pushed on. Miles 24 and 25 were a dismal 10:55 and 11:00. I remember stopping for a moment and trying to stretch my legs a little. I could tell that others were suffering too. Those miles were even worse than in my first marathon. That's where my last hope of a 3:45 was squashed for good.
With just over a mile to go, I mustered up everything I had in me to at least try to make a good showing at the finish line. Mile 26 was a tiny bit faster at 9:40. The last 0.2 miles were up a hill, but the crowds of marines on either side were so intensely cheering, there was no chance anyone could have walked up that! I saw the finish balloon and almost collapsed with relief in finally making it. It was not the finish I usually experience in a half marathon, where I'm completely out of breath and a little light-headed. Instead it was one where I was exhausted and in so much pain in my legs and feet that the whole thing felt like a dream - a very bad one.
You can see me cross the finish line in this video. Scroll to just before 3 minutes and 40 seconds. Then look on the right side of the screen. I come across within the next 3 seconds after that.
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| A look of total exhaustion and despair |
I went through the finish gates with that "agony of defeat" look, and I tried not to look at the clock. The tiny ray of light was the fact that at least I had beat my first marathon time and I had beat 4 hours. When I saw the marine waiting to put the finisher metal around my neck, I cried yet again. Then I went through a long receiving line shaking hands and trying to smile. I was so tired that I didn't even manage to get a photo in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial or get my finisher jacket.
My mind was focused solely on getting my post-race rations and getting to the massage table where I was to meet up with my family and Jonathan. I hobbled along in that tell-tale shuffle that only a fellow marathoners fully understands.
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| OH my aching quads! |
Relief washed over me when I saw that there was practically no wait for a massage. I honestly have never hurt so badly. I don't know if it was all the walking at the museums, or the steps of the tower I climbed, or a combination of everything, but I just hurt. I flopped my weary body down on the table and groaned with relief as the capable hands of the masseuse worked on my calves, quads, hammies, and glutes.
Soon after that, I met up with Jonathan, who gave me a warm jacket and 4 Advil. I was starting to get cold. My family then arrived and gave me hugs. After that, we had a long Metro ride, a quick shower, and a 10.5 hour car trip back to Atlanta, where I fell into bed at 2am, thoroughly exhausted.
My family and I pose in the hotel before we head out
Steve and I celebrate by showing off our beautiful, shiny finisher medals
Not defeated in the least in spite of everything, I was already plotting my re-match plans in the car on the way home. On the books so far is the Tallahassee Marathon on February 3. This one will be in my home town on a nice and flat course. I also have a friend who is also aiming for that elusive 3:30, and might run with me. The post-race recovery is already killing me and I am chomping at the bit to hit the trail again!
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