Christie Clinic Marathon

I don't know how to start this post or what to really say about my race without sounding ungrateful or like a sore loser.  I've had so many words of encouragement before and after the race, reminders of what an inspiration I have become for some people, and I am blessed to have this gift. So I will attempt to avoid sounding awful during this post.

In the days leading up to the race I paid extra attention to every bit of food or drink I put in my mouth, every ache or pain or twinge I felt in my body, I was drinking fluids like a mad woman, and critiquing every step of every mile leading up to race day.  I studied the course, I made plans for my race, I wanted everything to be perfect.  Guess what, life isn't perfect.  A race is rarely perfect.  26.2 miles, there is no way that can always go perfectly.  What I should have been doing was training my head to adapt and overcome when things DIDN'T go perfectly instead of expecting everything to fall into place.  My last long run was a huge reminder that I am capable, but I forgot how to adapt to things I cannot control during my race like I had done during that long run.

We headed out to Champaign, Illinois after an easy 3 mile run with two of my favorite people and my race companions, Erin and April.  The ride up was fun and we talked the whole way about life, running, racing and plenty in between. After we got to the expo and picked up our packets, had some supper, and settled into our hotel, the nerves really set in.  I laid out all of my clothes and gear for the next day and April helped me write my prayer list on my arms for the next day.  I had 26 names for 26 miles of prayers, with plans to run this race for someone other than myself. 

 

 

I did not get a wink of sleep that night, with my alarm set for 4:45am so I could eat my breakfast ahead of time and be ready to leave the hotel at 5:30am for the 7am start. I last looked at the clock at 1am, it was a useless night of sleep. I tried not to let my lack of sleep bother  me, I'd rested well all week and I really felt fine when I woke up the next morning. We headed off to the starting line after multiple potty breaks, and Erin and I talked about the race and our plans and goals. We went to the bathroom 4 more times once we got to the starting line area, what can I say, I have race day IBS.  And then we headed to our corrals.  I gave Erin a hug and told her good luck! and gave April a hug and told her I'd see her in a few hours.

 

Trish and Izzie (fellow running buddies) and I found our spots in Corral B near the 3:35 pace group.  Our goal was to start with the 3:35's and try to catch the 3:30's pace group, since our goal was 3:33. We listened to the National Anthem and I almost cried.  There were no more nerves, only feelings of happiness and readiness, I couldn't wait to start.  The race started, we crossed the starting mats and started our watches and we were off.  I tried to focus on effort and not pace, but ultimately failed at that.  I run best when I ease into a pace instead of pushing a pace from the beginning, and that just isn't how I started the race.  We weaved in and out of people because the start was crowded with all of the 8 minute mile pacers for the full and half marathon.  We were always in front of the 3:35 group and caught the 3:30 group by mile 5.  The first 10K flew by and I mentioned that we were half way done with the half way point. We crossed in an overall average pace of 7:56/mile.  Too fast to maintain for 20 more miles.  I was trying not to let myself get discouraged and tried to ease into a little slower pace, but the heat was picking up and I was already feeling tired.  I gulped as much water as I could at the water stations, which made my stomach hurt instantly.  I tried to sip but it was so warm and I had cotton mouth pretty quick so all I wanted was water.  Around the 8 mile mark we headed into a park with a small path to run on.  Trish and I looked for Izzie between 8 & 9 miles and couldn't see her anymore.  We kept pushing forward and hoped that we'd see her again but knew that we  had to keep moving to stay on pace ahead of pace.  Around the 9-10 mile mark I felt myself slowing and I just couldn't keep that 8 minute pace anymore.  The 3:35 group was right behind us Trish reminded me, and we needed to push ahead.  I couldn't do it, so I told her to go on and I would try to hang with them.  I stayed with the 3:35 group until close to 11 miles and then fell off of their pace as well.  More than anything I should have ran a couple slower miles, drank and ate my Gu's and recomposed myself, I still had plenty of time to regroup and run the rest of the race well.  Instead I just got pissed. But not a good pissed that fuels the fire, a pissed that ruins the day.  I started throwing myself a pitty party, complaining in my head about the heat, and how the starting pace was way too fast, and how the whole race was ruined. 

 

I saw April at the half-way point, with my "Jessy runs for Josee Hope" sign and the sign she made us that said "Boston Bound" and I just wanted to cry and quit the whole damn thing.  I smiled at her but rolled my eyes and told her so much for Boston.  I was totally defeated and gave up before I was even halfway there.  What a fool I was for giving up so early.  The next 7 miles are a blur of negativity.  Around the 15 mile mark I was running with another guy and we talked about our goals for the day, I told him I had set out to run a 3:33 but that wasn't happening anymore. He encouraged me and told me we had just run an 8:30 mile and that is still a 3:45 marathon so to not give up.  That made me feel better and worse all at once because 3:45 was still so far off of my goal.  I should have listened to him.  Instead I listened to the a-hole behind us who quickly remarked, "3:33?! Well you can kiss that goodbye!"  Thanks dude, I was unaware that I was running a shitty race, your reminder woke me up from my daydreaming.

 

Around the 18 mile mark I remember feeling really sorry for myself.  I had 8 miles to go, and it had been 8 miles since I dropped off pace and the suffering had begun. I didn't want to go any farther.  I kept looking at my arms, all of these people I had promised prayers to, and they are what kept me going.  I prayed for each one of them during their assigned miles, but also spent way too much time feeling sorry for myself when I should have just focused on those prayers and moving forward. 

 

The heat was terrible. Starting around mile 14 I had begun drinking a whole cup of water and dumping two over my head at each water station.  By mile 20 I was soaked, running through every mist station and enjoying all of the awesome people who were spraying their garden hoses in the street.  It could have rained like crazy and I would have been happier than the heat I was enduring. It was in the high 60's by mid-race which doesn't sound hot, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky so we were running in full sun after training the entire winter in freezing temps, my body just wasn't ready. 

 

My Garmin was acting like a fool and said I had run 23 miles at the 22 mile mark.  I wanted to rip it off my arm and stomp on it at that point. If my thoughts had been audible there would have been a lot of F-bombs flying I'm sure.  We had 4 miles to go and they seemed to drag on forever, partially because I was running/walking so much slower than I had trained.  With a 5K to go I tried to give everything I had left.  I pushed forward for all of those people on my arms and for the hope that a finish line would eventually come into sight.  Mile 24 included the one real hill we had to climb and I tried to use the downhill to my advantage while it lasted.  The spectators and signs were awesome and they are the one thing that brought joy to my race.  People kept screaming my name (it was on my bib) and I smacked as many hands as I could find.  I gave a thumbs up to the camera guy somewhere between mile 25 & 26.  The end was near.  My Garmin froze at 24.96 miles and never moved forward after that, remind me to never rely on technology again. As I crossed the 25 mile mark, knowing my last 1.2 miles was all for Josee, my feet began to fly.  I probably wasn't running very fast but I felt like I was and I was passing people like crazy.  Someone yelled "Good push purple (color of my tank), keep it up!"  I finally felt encouraged and was going to give it my all for the rest of the race, short as it may have been.  The last 0.2 miles seemed WAY farther than a lap around the track but as soon as I entered the stadium and saw the finish I felt sweet relief.  I ran as fast as I could, almost cried, and crossed the finish line of my second marathon.  3:54:14.  A far cry from my 3:33.  I hobbled forward, received my finisher's medal, patronized the volunteer handing out medals until she agreed to give me a second for Josee (I had already gotten permission from the race director via email but she wasn't around to give the okay at the time) and found April in the stands.  A hug and a cry, a quick picture and then I went to find the other runners. 

 

I was thrilled to hear that Trish had qualified with a 3:35:05 (she needed 3:40 to BQ) but was worried to hear she was in the medical tent.  I flopped down on the stadium turf and pulled out my phone to text my husband and inform him of my failure.  I posted a picture online with my feelings of defeat and cried.  What I received after that was beyond anything I could believe, 118 people "liked" my picture and over 40 people responded with words of encouragement, reminding me that I had done what most people cannot fathom. I had run a marathon!  26 point freaking 2 miles. 

 

The days following the race have been hard.  I've made every kind of excuse in the book, beat myself up like crazy, and crabbed endlessly to my family.  But in the end, I simply didn't have it on April 26th.  I didn't run my race. I let myself give up.  Two of the best comments I've received after the race were from some online friends. One said, " i know you're disappointed you didn't qualify for boston, but you should be proud of yourself. i think you did an amazing job, and i love reading about your running adventures. boston isn't going anywhere, so there will always be another chance to qualify"--thanks Erin Morgan! :)  Another reminded me, "So you didn't run a 3:33, so what.  You ran an awesome time and this will just give you more fuel for next time." True story Kate, this gives me even more incentive to bust my butt and not give up next time.

 

Was it a good race?, hell no. Am I glad I did it?, Of course.  Practice makes perfect, right? I will qualify and I will run Boston.

 



On top of the world

"Running is a mental sport, and we're all insane." --not sure who said this, but gosh is it true.  We had this quote on the back of our cross country shirts in high school and it still holds true for me to this day.  As you all will remember, my first 20 miler was quite the challenge. It was hot, I was alone, and I had a less than stellar attitude about the whole thing long before I took my first step.  My mentality is what played the biggest factor in my first 20 miler turning out less than what I had expected. I was determined to make sure that didn't happen again on my next long run. 

I had 10 days to prepare for my next attempt at 20 miles and I had it planned out perfectly.  My husband and sister planned on riding road bikes next to me while I ran on a local bike path.  They would carry water bottles on the bikes, and cell phones for musical enjoyment, and I would carry my Gu/fuel. The plan was to see how many miles I could cover in 3 hours.  I figured on around an 8:27ish pace, so told them that we would be likely riding around 7.0-7.3 miles per hour. The bikes have speedometers on them so they would be able to keep track of that if they wanted.

I planned my outfit based on my projected race day attire, but it was chilly so I went with a tech tee and a wind breaker type jacket to start.

Love my CEP socks, Oiselle arm warmers, stride shorts, KT tape for my sore knee, and my fabulous Mizuno Wave Creation's!

 

We got to the trail later than planned due to a pit stop along the way, and then flat bike tires that took awhile to get aired up.  But I was staying positive no matter what. I wasn't going to let my mind win. I wasn't going to let anything mess with this day and this run.  This was my last chance to prove to myself that I belong on that starting line, I belong in the marathon, and I AM capable of qualifying for Boston. 

 

Just before we got started.

 

So off we went.  The first couple of miles were fine, easy even.  I was running in the low 8's and kept thinking that I was going too fast, but with Jordan right beside me and April right behind me, I had the momentum to keep going at that pace so I didn't even attempt to back off.  Jordan mentioned a few times what our mph were and would tell me if I had sped up at all.  After a few of the announcements I told him I wasn't worrying about mph or pace, and I was going to run the rest based on effort.  I finally started ignoring my watch around mile 5 and just let the miles fly by.  We had some Beatles, Michael Jackson, Disney music, Avenged Sevenfold, Greek Fire, and plenty of other awesome tunes to help me forget about the length of time I was going to be out there.  I never listen to music when I run, but it helped so much.  It never distracted me from my run or my pace, but it helped pass the time faster since I couldn't gab the whole time due to my increased effort.  I was able to talk and didn't feel out of breath but didn't want to waste energy so I kept the talking to a minimum.  Around mile 7 (I think), April took my jacket because I was getting hot.  My miles were flying by at this point, I was passing people on the trail, smiling or giving a little wave, feeling awesome the whole time.  I looked down at my watch one time and saw a 7:20 around mile 10 and couldn't believe it.  I could feel myself pushing the pace some of the time, but still had so much energy at the halfway point.  I was getting excited to see what my 13.1 time would be.  I crossed the 90 minute (the true half way point) mark having ran 11.6 miles! I was running sub 8 pace at this point and knowing that just gave me the momentum to keep pushing. I wasn't looking at my watch at every mile mark so I had no idea just how good I was doing most of the time, I was just running on effort, something I hadn't done enough of through my training.

 

April took a video of me, it's posted on her Facebook page for those of you that are friends with her.  I crossed 13.1 miles in 1:43:20, my second fastest attempt at the half marathon distance, during a 3 hour run!  I crossed the 15 mile mark in 1:59, my fastest 15 miler ever.  I set out on 2 hour runs most weeks with the goal of reaching 15 miles in under that time, today was the first time I made it in under 120 minutes! :) The trail we were on was 8 miles long, so we turned around to head back out at 16 miles and I immediately felt the fatigue start setting in.  I ran an 8:48 and a 9:02 for miles 16 & 17, but considering many of my miles had been under 8:00 I didn't feel too bad about this.   

 

Miles 18 & 19 were foggy and my Garmin was acting up, but we turned around at the 19 mile mark with 3 miles to go.  I told myself not to wimp out and to push the last 3 like it was a regular every day 3 mile run. No big deal.  The music was rocking, the bike wheels were turning, my legs were aching and I felt like my feet were flying.  April set out some motivation for me and I attempted to catch people in front of me like she told me to do.  It looked like I might make 22 miles in under 3 hours and I told myself I would stop at 22 miles, that would be enough torture for my legs for one day.  The last mile I pushed and I pushed.  I swung my arms faster when I felt like my legs might fail me.  The elation I felt, knowing I was going to finish this run in almost the same time I'd done 20 miles the week before, is what helped me finish so strong.  April yelled out, "I don't know how you're doing this!" As I picked up the pace for the last 1/2 mile. Jordan said I was running way up over 8 mph for most of the last mile. He kept telling me to push it, to not give up, reminding me of the distance left the closer we got to my "finish line". My watch beeped for 22 miles, the last mile in 7:45!, and I slowed to a stop and looked down at my watch.

 

Holy cow! I'd say I beat my goal of 8:27/pace!

 

I was so happy, and so sore and stiff. My gait was terrible as I held my hips and hobbled to the car.  April pushed her bike next to me as we talked about the run and how things had gone.  I was in shock.  To qualify for Boston I have to run 8:12 pace for 26.2 miles.  Today I ran fast enough to allow myself 37 minutes to complete the last 4.2 miles and still qualify, more than doable as long as things kept going right. 

10 days prior I was ready to throw in the towel, say to heck with marathons and just survive the rest of my training and finish this race.  After those 22 miles I was on top of the world, knowing I am meant to run this race, and plenty more marathons if I put my mind to it and run with my heart.

 

My Josee Hope was on my heart the entire race.  When I would get tired I would glance down at my hand, where I had written her name before the run, and remind myself to pick up my feet and push harder, for her.  For all of the Down Syndrome sweeties like her.  She is such sweet motivation and I can't wait to race for her in 18 days!

 



 



Misery loves company

My long run last week was just that, miserable.  And as much as the misery would have loved company, I had to traverse all 20 miles solo...hence the main reason it was so darn miserable! 

But I'm looking on the bright side, I ran 20 flippin miles, all by myself, never stopped to walk one time, and I did it faster than I could have ever run in the past.  20 miles is the farthest I have ever run without stopping.  In my first marathon I had to start walk/running at around mile 16ish I think (it was 10 years ago, gimme a break, I can't remember for sure). So aside from my legs protesting, my GI system hating me, and my poor feet aching, I'm quite pleased with my first 20 miler in preparation for my upcoming marathon.  I have another 20+ miler planned for March 30th, thankfully this time I'll have my awesome hubby and sis riding along on road bikes to keep me company as we utilize a local bike/running path to get the job done. 

For those of you interested in the misery that comes along with a 20 miler, or those of you who can easily relate, let me break it down for you. 

I ran all over my home town and the neighboring town, ran more hills than I would prefer and had to repeat loops over and over to get it done because the area we live in is rather small as far as safe running roads go.  Look at those hills!  Especially between miles 2-4 and again right after the 8 mile mark.  Whew. My legs hated me!  Quite thankful that in our planning we chose a flat course!  Our marathon will have two real hills per the course elevation, yay!

Now onto the mile splits and the complaining...

 

 

Mile 1: Feeling great, this is going to be a good run, 8:07, that's way too fast for 20 miles. I have 19 more to go!  Slow it down a little, come on, don't burn yourself out in the first mile

 

Mile 2: 8:36, that's better, try to keep it right around there.

 

Mile 3: Oh shit, here comes that horrible hill.  Well just try to maintain effort and don't worry about pace. 8:44, not too bad for conquering that hill.  Keep it up, the hills not done yet!

 

Mile 4: Ugh, will this hill ever end?!  It's getting hot, gotta take these arm warmers off, stuff them in my waist band.  Can't wait for mile 6 for refueling, must conserve Gu and water. 8:41, not bad, keep it up.

 

Mile 5: This is miserable. I'm only 1/4 of the way done, seriously? I hate this, why did I do a long run today. It's too hot. 8:45.

 

Mile 6: Okay I guess I'm not going to die.  Finish this mile and I can take my first Gu and drink some water finally. 8:43, I'll take that.

 

Mile 7: The people in cars are staring at me like I'm nuts, I am nuts. Why am I out here in this heat?  It's 70 degrees by now, my body is used to 20-30 degree long runs. I may very well collapse from heat exhaustion, not even half way done.  Off with the shirt, please stare some more people.  Yes I'm running in a sports bra and shorts mid-March, it's like a sauna out here! 9:09, crap!

 

Mile 8: Can't let that happen again, no more 9 minute miles, keep it under 9. You can do this Jessy.  You have to do this.  8:40, okay that's better. You rock. Don't give up.

 

Mile 9: I was wrong, I don't rock. I suck. my legs are rebelling, no more hills please.  I can't believe I have 11 more miles to go. 9:12, suck suck suck.

 

Mile 10: On with the down hill. Try to make up some time. Gosh my legs hurt. It's harder going down hill than uphill on these tired legs! Ow ow ow. 8:24, okay I'll take that. That makes up for the last mile that sucked. Half way done, woohoo!

 

Mile 11: More crap. I feel like crap, my legs are crap, my time is crap.  Thank goodness I'm atleast half way done with this crap. 9:15.

 

Mile 12: More of the same, my mind is now on auto-pilot. This run sucks, I just have to accept these awful mile splits and get used to 9 minute pace. Why did I think I could qualify for Boston? All I want to do is finish, screw 3:35! 9:13, I hate you Garmin.

 

Mile 13: As much as I hate this, I feel a little better all of a sudden.  Another Gu taken, one water bottle empty, working on drinking bottle #2. 8:38. Okay maybe I can keep this up. 7 miles to go.

 

Mile 14: Nope, nope, nope. What was I thinking, all I can do is survive the rest of this run.  Picking up the pace isn't an option. 9:26, ugh.

 

Mile 15: 3/4 of the way done, Hallelujah! I can do this, the end is near.  I can survive 5 more miles. 9:09.

 

Mile 16: My water is all gone and I have 4 more miles to go. I'm going to sweat to death.  Dripping in sweat, no water and 30+ more minutes of this hell.  Must refill water bottles!  I'll run home and fill up at the garden hose. Oh no, huge hill to get to my house, legs don't fail me now.  10:12, I don't even care, please just give me water!

 

Mile 17:  Okay Jessy, pick it up. 4 miles. You do this all the time. Quit being such a wimp. Quit complaining so much.  You chose this, you are tough. You can do this.  8:26, holy cow, that was awesome.

 

Mile 18: Approaching my previous longest long run finish line, but I have to keep going.  I said I was doing 20, I'm not quitting. 8:44, I'll take it.

 

Mile 19: It's so hot!  Water bottle #1 is already empty again from drinking and dumping it over my head.  Little girl and her momma stand at the end of their driveway jumping up and down and cheer for me to keep going.  What a boost that was.  I smile and say thank you, shocked that my face still knows how to smile at this point.  I will keep going, thank you! :)  My legs don't want to move but I make them.  I think of Josee and convince myself to keep going. Josee Hope, Josee Hope, Josee Hope. My new mantra with every step. 8:31, I rock.

 

Mile 20: Last mile, suck it up and run. Don't wimp out.  I'm about to finish the longest run of my life. I can't wait to be done!  Legs are on fire, feet are aching in exhaustion, dripping in sweat, water is gone again, no one around to cheer me on now, must finish. Josee Hope, Josee Hope, Josee Hope. My watch beeps for the 20th time: 8:08!  Whew!

 

I can't believe I survived 20 miles.  A year ago I was running a couple miles at a time trying to revive my previous passion for running. Now I'm out running for 2 hours, 56 minutes and 51 seconds, all for "fun".  :) 

 

 

 

Afterwards I took an ice bath to help my legs recover, and wore compression socks and compression shorts for 24 hours.  My legs felt totally fine the next day!  3 days of rest afterwards because I needed it for sure!  Prior to that I had run 18.35 miles, 4 miles, 13 miles, 4 miles and then 20 miles, all in the last 6 days, my legs needed rest. Today I'll get back at it. I'm already prepping for my 20 miler next week.  What can I say, I'm a runner, you already knew I was crazy. :)