There were some really amazing moments from yesterday's marathon. And some pretty crappy ones too. Here's a recap.
We all know that I had a pretty nutzo taper. The hellacious shin pain drove me bat-shit crazy. I saw a sports masseuse for the first time ever a week before the race. And then again 4 days before. It helped tremendously with the pain, but I think it contributed to the heaviness that plagued my legs the entire race. And then on Monday, the woman who does gait analysis for the team watched me run and said my shoes were part of the problem. They were the right shoes for me 4 months ago, but I'm a stronger runner now and they were overcorrecting for a problem I no longer had. So she fit me in new shoes on Tuesday. So I had a whopping 2.13 miles run on them before the race. But I only have 3 small blisters! Still, I wouldn't recommend getting completely new styled shoes 5 days before a marathon. If for nothing else, the havoc it wreaks in your head.
But, the shoes were great and, will wonders never cease, I didn't have any trouble with my leg. I ran about a quarter mile to warm it up before the start (man, did I get a LOT of crazy looks), and it was tight at the start, but that was it. I felt a twinge at 15 and another around 21, but a twinge was it. It hurts like crazy now, but it made it through. Good job, leg.
When Wendi, the show whisperer, saw me run and determined my shoes were part of the problem, she also gave me some pointers on form. New shoes and new form the week of a race. Not advisable.
The bus ride to the starting line was interminable. Seriously, I thought they were taking us to Canada. And all I kept thinking was, "And I have to RUN this whole freaking way?" I've never taken a bus to the start line. Now I know to bring headphones and tune out.
One of the highlights of the race was when the F-16s blew over us at the end of The Star Spangled Banner. I got choked up, enough I had to wipe a tear. I don't even know why, since planes/military etc. are not my thing at all, but those jets, man, they are so impressive! Plus, I'm always so hyped up and nervous at that point before a race, just about anything could make me cry. They followed it up with, what else, the Top Gun theme song. Cheesy, but it worked.
I knew I was in trouble when I was comfortable, hot even, in my singlet before we even started. The humidity, a balmy 90%, made even the 66 degree temp tough to get going. All week the weather looked bad, which actually didn't stress me out as much as it normally does, I think because of the leg issues. There was a nice breeze in the morning, when it blew, but the first 13 were really tough in that heat. I never felt like I was holding back the pace; I felt like I was working hard from the first mile. After 17 the sky became overcast and the temp became much more manageable. If the race had started at 9:30, it would have been a completely different result.
My garmin lost signal at the start. So it took a bit to get it going again. And then because I wanted to beep at the mile markers, I hit lap at mile 1. Except I didn't hit lap, I hit stop. I lost about .4 mile and so I never really knew what my overall time was. I tried to figure out the math adding the missing time and subtracting how long it took to get to the start when we passed time clocks. Since I didn't know how close I really was, it may have been different if my watch had worked properly and I could have... Nope. I couldn't have run faster.
The first time you see the lake through the trees is stunning. I'm glad I looked at it because for most of the rest of the race, it hurt too much to turn my head to look at it again.
No matter what anyone says, this is not a flat course. It wouldn't classify as hilly, as there are no huge inclines, but the first 10 miles there are constant rolling hills. The first time I thought about quitting was mile 6. Keeping it together for 20 more miles, I'm considering that a win.
There were some amazing, amazing points of people cheering, and lots of dead space.
I did, though, have a personal race guide the first 13. A pal from the running group was a back-up for the 3:40 and 4:30 pacer guys in case either bonked. So he led me through the first half. He was outstanding - got me water and/or powerade at some of the stops so I could just blow through the center. Talked me through the tangents. Kept pumping me up. He would check in with the pacers and then come back to check on me. When I screwed up my garmin at the start he told me to take a deep breath and let it go. No big deal. As hard as those first 13 were, I don't think I could have run them that well without George. How lucky was I?!?
I had a hard time keeping my mantra going in my head. I was busy trying to do math and it was hard enough just to focus on my new form and my breathing. I looked at my homemade pace chart and tried to concentrate on the person or event I wanted to focus on at each mile past 10. But it was really hard to concentrate today. My goal had been to start out at 8:25-8:30 for the first 5, then drop down to 8:15 through 10-13 depending on how I felt, and then run 8 flats into the finish. I never could drop below 8:15s. Which would have been ok except for mile 20-21, when I ran a 9 and an 8:42. Screwed the BQ plan all up.
After 13, I ran the next 4 or so on my own and then had another amazing pit crew jump in with me. Elaina, Carrie, and Beth all ran with me through most of the last 10. They asked me when I needed water or gatorade or ice or sponges. Incredible!! And since Carrie and Elaina were wearing the same pink team singlet as me, we got SO many awesome cheers from the crowd. "Go Team Pink (or Team Purple!)" [it's hard to tell the color] "Girl Power!" "You ladies look so strong!" In the last 6 miles, I don't think we went more than 2 minutes without someone cheering for us. I have amazing teammates.
I miscalculated my math at 20 and thought I had more time than I did to still make it. Mile 20 was a tough one. I kept telling myself, "Calhoun and Harriet. Calhoun and Harriet." But I couldn't keep my legs turning over fast enough. I think I moaned at one point. I started to get the chills. At this point, I was sopping wet and the sky had become overcast. So I was in this weird hot but also cold state.
Lemon Drop was not awful, but the fact that you can see it for almost a mile makes it seem worse than it is. I told my running crew I might have to walk up it. Carrie told me at lunch that she wanted to tell me, "Like hell you are." But she told me that Lemon Drop had nothing on Puke's Peak (this really tremendous hill from that Ron Daws race I did in April). She was right, of course, and I did run the whole thing without losing too much time. But any hill is killer at 22.
At mile 24, I thought there was still a chance I could qualify. Remember, I was 24 miles into a marathon and trying to do complicated addition and subtraction with splits. So I picked it up a tiny bit which was so so so hard. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop. I kept wondering how awful it really would be if I dropped out at 25. I didn't actually consider it, but I did think it.
I slowed a little up the last few inclines in mile 25, but then with a half mile I dropped time again. I ran the last .2 at almost 7:10 pace. Seriously? Where did that come from? I thought I was closer to qualifying than I was. I felt a little stupid for killing myself at the end when I was way off, but a friend said she was watching the finish line streaming on the website and that I looked really strong. So there's that.
I'm going through waves of feeling proud for my 14:43 pr and feeling desperately disappointed with the extra 46 seconds. That's 2 seconds per mile. Just 2 seconds! A BQ is such a contrived goal, but it is there. And lots made it happen this spring. I guess the good news is that I know I can do it. Yesterday just wasn't my day for it.
We all know that I had a pretty nutzo taper. The hellacious shin pain drove me bat-shit crazy. I saw a sports masseuse for the first time ever a week before the race. And then again 4 days before. It helped tremendously with the pain, but I think it contributed to the heaviness that plagued my legs the entire race. And then on Monday, the woman who does gait analysis for the team watched me run and said my shoes were part of the problem. They were the right shoes for me 4 months ago, but I'm a stronger runner now and they were overcorrecting for a problem I no longer had. So she fit me in new shoes on Tuesday. So I had a whopping 2.13 miles run on them before the race. But I only have 3 small blisters! Still, I wouldn't recommend getting completely new styled shoes 5 days before a marathon. If for nothing else, the havoc it wreaks in your head.
But, the shoes were great and, will wonders never cease, I didn't have any trouble with my leg. I ran about a quarter mile to warm it up before the start (man, did I get a LOT of crazy looks), and it was tight at the start, but that was it. I felt a twinge at 15 and another around 21, but a twinge was it. It hurts like crazy now, but it made it through. Good job, leg.
When Wendi, the show whisperer, saw me run and determined my shoes were part of the problem, she also gave me some pointers on form. New shoes and new form the week of a race. Not advisable.
The bus ride to the starting line was interminable. Seriously, I thought they were taking us to Canada. And all I kept thinking was, "And I have to RUN this whole freaking way?" I've never taken a bus to the start line. Now I know to bring headphones and tune out.
One of the highlights of the race was when the F-16s blew over us at the end of The Star Spangled Banner. I got choked up, enough I had to wipe a tear. I don't even know why, since planes/military etc. are not my thing at all, but those jets, man, they are so impressive! Plus, I'm always so hyped up and nervous at that point before a race, just about anything could make me cry. They followed it up with, what else, the Top Gun theme song. Cheesy, but it worked.
I knew I was in trouble when I was comfortable, hot even, in my singlet before we even started. The humidity, a balmy 90%, made even the 66 degree temp tough to get going. All week the weather looked bad, which actually didn't stress me out as much as it normally does, I think because of the leg issues. There was a nice breeze in the morning, when it blew, but the first 13 were really tough in that heat. I never felt like I was holding back the pace; I felt like I was working hard from the first mile. After 17 the sky became overcast and the temp became much more manageable. If the race had started at 9:30, it would have been a completely different result.
My garmin lost signal at the start. So it took a bit to get it going again. And then because I wanted to beep at the mile markers, I hit lap at mile 1. Except I didn't hit lap, I hit stop. I lost about .4 mile and so I never really knew what my overall time was. I tried to figure out the math adding the missing time and subtracting how long it took to get to the start when we passed time clocks. Since I didn't know how close I really was, it may have been different if my watch had worked properly and I could have... Nope. I couldn't have run faster.
The first time you see the lake through the trees is stunning. I'm glad I looked at it because for most of the rest of the race, it hurt too much to turn my head to look at it again.
No matter what anyone says, this is not a flat course. It wouldn't classify as hilly, as there are no huge inclines, but the first 10 miles there are constant rolling hills. The first time I thought about quitting was mile 6. Keeping it together for 20 more miles, I'm considering that a win.
There were some amazing, amazing points of people cheering, and lots of dead space.
I did, though, have a personal race guide the first 13. A pal from the running group was a back-up for the 3:40 and 4:30 pacer guys in case either bonked. So he led me through the first half. He was outstanding - got me water and/or powerade at some of the stops so I could just blow through the center. Talked me through the tangents. Kept pumping me up. He would check in with the pacers and then come back to check on me. When I screwed up my garmin at the start he told me to take a deep breath and let it go. No big deal. As hard as those first 13 were, I don't think I could have run them that well without George. How lucky was I?!?
I had a hard time keeping my mantra going in my head. I was busy trying to do math and it was hard enough just to focus on my new form and my breathing. I looked at my homemade pace chart and tried to concentrate on the person or event I wanted to focus on at each mile past 10. But it was really hard to concentrate today. My goal had been to start out at 8:25-8:30 for the first 5, then drop down to 8:15 through 10-13 depending on how I felt, and then run 8 flats into the finish. I never could drop below 8:15s. Which would have been ok except for mile 20-21, when I ran a 9 and an 8:42. Screwed the BQ plan all up.
After 13, I ran the next 4 or so on my own and then had another amazing pit crew jump in with me. Elaina, Carrie, and Beth all ran with me through most of the last 10. They asked me when I needed water or gatorade or ice or sponges. Incredible!! And since Carrie and Elaina were wearing the same pink team singlet as me, we got SO many awesome cheers from the crowd. "Go Team Pink (or Team Purple!)" [it's hard to tell the color] "Girl Power!" "You ladies look so strong!" In the last 6 miles, I don't think we went more than 2 minutes without someone cheering for us. I have amazing teammates.
I miscalculated my math at 20 and thought I had more time than I did to still make it. Mile 20 was a tough one. I kept telling myself, "Calhoun and Harriet. Calhoun and Harriet." But I couldn't keep my legs turning over fast enough. I think I moaned at one point. I started to get the chills. At this point, I was sopping wet and the sky had become overcast. So I was in this weird hot but also cold state.
Lemon Drop was not awful, but the fact that you can see it for almost a mile makes it seem worse than it is. I told my running crew I might have to walk up it. Carrie told me at lunch that she wanted to tell me, "Like hell you are." But she told me that Lemon Drop had nothing on Puke's Peak (this really tremendous hill from that Ron Daws race I did in April). She was right, of course, and I did run the whole thing without losing too much time. But any hill is killer at 22.
At mile 24, I thought there was still a chance I could qualify. Remember, I was 24 miles into a marathon and trying to do complicated addition and subtraction with splits. So I picked it up a tiny bit which was so so so hard. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop. I kept wondering how awful it really would be if I dropped out at 25. I didn't actually consider it, but I did think it.
I slowed a little up the last few inclines in mile 25, but then with a half mile I dropped time again. I ran the last .2 at almost 7:10 pace. Seriously? Where did that come from? I thought I was closer to qualifying than I was. I felt a little stupid for killing myself at the end when I was way off, but a friend said she was watching the finish line streaming on the website and that I looked really strong. So there's that.
I'm going through waves of feeling proud for my 14:43 pr and feeling desperately disappointed with the extra 46 seconds. That's 2 seconds per mile. Just 2 seconds! A BQ is such a contrived goal, but it is there. And lots made it happen this spring. I guess the good news is that I know I can do it. Yesterday just wasn't my day for it.
