Terribly overdue Richmond Marathon race report
November 14, 2015 AKA my best race ever. Though, it didn’t start out that way.
I’d been training for this day all season, my first marathon in 3 years (since starting triathlon) and my first realistic shot at a BQ….
…And of course the week leading up to it was a trainwreck. This took me by surprise because I had been so calm and excited for this race all season. It was the first marathon (out of 6 before it) that I looked forward to running. And when I kept visualizing it in my head, it continued to feel like it was going to be so fun. I wasn’t nervous at all, and I was ready to see where all the hard work would take me. I didn’t count on major family stress, crazy stomach issues, and sleepless nights – things I can normally keep at bay.
Despite a quick pep talk from my coach on Friday night, I didn’t sleep great, and my stomach continued to be a total mess the morning of the race. Not to mention, I forgot my oatmeal (I brought all the fixings) so I had to rely on room service for my breakfast. They were 10 minutes late, which left me even more frazzled before the race.
I got to the race about 30 minutes early to meet up with other athletes and my coach, and somehow missed the memo that I was supposed to bring a plastic bag to check my coat. I also had counted on stopping at the port-o-potty one last time, but after waiting in the line for 25 minutes, I gave up because I didn’t want to miss my wave. Really, universe, can I get a break here??
I ran into Sandra at the start and it was great to see a friendly face. When the gun went off, I really didn’t think my stomach would cooperate, but I knew I had to give it my best. Sandra and I started together and I eased into an 8:21 pace. It felt like an easy jog, which was great. I felt like I could hold that for a long time. She started to pick up the pace, but I decided not to be greedy and to stick with what I felt was a big stretch for me, for 26 miles.
The first 7-8 miles flew, and there were some amazing moments where I felt like I was flying – just like I imagined. The crowds were great, I got teary eyed, and was amazed that I was holding the pace (actually closer to 8:07 for several miles). It felt great. Once I crossed the first big bridge, I picked up a ton of speed on the downhills and saw the 3:35 pace group ahead (I started with the 3:45 folks and quickly passed them). I knew if I kept that pace it would also be greedy, and I wasn’t a 3:35 runner just yet. So, I told myself to ease back into something more manageable. I’m glad I did because I needed that energy later on.
The rest was a blur of tough moments (wondering if I could keep doing it) and pure awe (that I was doing it). I remember looking down at my wrists to see if I was on track with the numbers I had written down only to find the ink was smeared beyond recognition from my sweat. From that point on I just kept trying to hit 8:20 on my miles (or less). The downhills really helped, as did passing some of the sponsored athletes! And a few people surprised me on the course and cheered for me (thanks, Mimi!). I also ran into Sandra and encouraged the crowds to cheer for her. She was working so hard!
Around mile 22 things got really tough, and I knew my time was going to be close. I started doing the things my coach suggested – running faster to a sign (even if it was only 20 feet away). I recited the alphabet, told myself I was a badass, and kept saying that it was my day. I was amazed my legs never really hurt and I never hit a wall. My stomach stayed in check too, though the chews did sometimes feel like they were landing in my lungs or that I might throw up.
Around mile 23 I told myself it was time to go for it, even if I blew up. I had nothing to lose. So I slowly picked up the pace and got a lot of positive reinforcement from the crowd. I ran into my coach at mile 25, and the timing was perfect. When I saw her, I started sprinting, trying to chase her down the course. That’s when everything began to hurt. My quads seized up and my legs were on fire, but I knew I had to chase her. My pace went from 8:15 to 7:43. The last downhill was excruciating, but I rocked a pace of 6:43 for the last .3 miles. Not quite sure how I did that, but I wanted it that badly.
When I crossed the finish line I began to sob because I knew I had exceeded my time goal with a race time of: 3:37:54. And, of course my phone was dead so I couldn’t text anyone or find my friends. I beat my BQ time by 2:06, so time will tell if I can actually get into the Boston Marathon in 2017. In the meantime, I’m just celebrating that I PRed by 20 minutes.
I limped back to the hotel, following some race “coaches” who helped me find my way. Such a friendly course, and such nice people. Every moment with athletes or volunteers was a memorable one.
I showered quickly, hopped in my car, and drove back to D.C. so I could meet up with my friends at our Tri Club annual meeting. The drive hurt more than the race itself. Part of me wanted to just climb into bed, but seeing everyone and reveling in that moment made everything worth it. I couldn’t have imagined a better way to end my day.
Afterwards I was really sore, and super emotional, but overwhelmed. It really was one of the best moments of my life. I reached beyond what I ever thought I could do and did what seemed impossible.
I *really* hope my time is enough because I’m not sure I want to hurt that badly again, but we’ll just have to see. 3:37:54 is pretty damn respectable when your last milestone was breaking 4 hours :). And, #flufflepuff is a pretty big fan of the race blanket.
later) a pretty nasty summer case of bronchitis, which made it really hard to get a good night’s sleep. I knew that nailing nutrition / hydration, incorporating salt pills (for the first time), and being conservative would be key to getting through the course. With one of the last waves, and a huge fear of the swim, I also knew that it would be important to avoid watching the early waves swim, and find other things to occupy my mind until it came time to race. Luckily, our tri club had a huge shaded tent, it’s own private port-o-potty, and lots of folks who were also in later waves, so that kept my mind off of the impending doom of the swim and gave me some extra time to make sure I had everything I needed.
no sleep till boston 