Despite being signed up, I had no intention of running the Hyannis Marathon until the Thursday before. That's why I all but quit running after Disney World, running only 12 times in the 6 intervening weeks, for a whopping 70 miles total over that time. But when the time came, something in me wouldn't let me quit without a fight. As luck would have it, though, the day I changed my mind about running the marathon, the weather channel changed their mind about the forecast for that day. Gone was the promise of 32º and partly cloudy. Now it was going to be 42º, rainy, and windy.
I did everything right (other than not training... or resting properly in the weeks before... or doing the right workouts to peak) in the days before the race. I got lots of sleep. I hardly used my legs all week (the 12 hours on the trainer last weekend was already behind me, and there wasn't much I could do about that now). I ate 60–70% of my calories from healthy carbohydrate sources like fruits and whole grains. I drank liters and liters of liquids, some with nuun tabs in it so that I could load up on electrolytes. I went out the day before in similar temperatures and did some drills and strides to make sure that I didn't overdress or underdress. I laid low.Big Red and I showed up at the convention center early, which gave us one unobstructed bathroom break before the 3,998 other marathon, half marathon, and 10K runners descended on the tiny little Sheraton. I showed Red my good luck rock that I'd been given at the Green Lakes 50K, where I'd surprised myself with a great race. "So your race plan is to run with rocks?" Big Red said. She had a point. I took the rock out and put it in my bag.
By the time the race was about to start, it took almost 15 minutes to push your way through the crowd to the door. Then, 4,000 people crammed themselves into a chunk of road equal to roughly 1 city block and put up with the race organizers as they tried to impose order on the latecomers from the porta pottie lines that were trying to work their way behind the starting line from the front and sides. Someone sang the national anthem, missed a note, and 4,000 people started laughing. Then the gun went off, and eventually we were able to move.Mile 1 8:06
With all kinds of runners front-loading into the starting area, I worried about being able to run fast enough in the first mile. I kept reminding myself that I would have plenty of time to make up for lost time in the next 25 miles, but I kept looking down to see that my pace was in the mid- to high 7-minute range. I planned to impose (on penalty of death) a narrow pace margin of 8:12 to 8:22-minute miles on myself for the first half, but I guess I might have overcompensated as I was darting through the crowd. Oh well, the first mile never goes the way you want it to.
Mile 2 7:55
This feels hard. Well no wonder! I'm back in the mid 7's. I kept trying to find a steady rhythm, but every time I looked down I was accelerating again. Then I would have to back off and overcompensate again. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of staying within range, but when the next mile marker came up, my watch told me that I'd overshot it a little bit. I was very, very, very, very aware of what could happen if I fucked up the pacing, and I had no intention of blowing to smithereens. I usually do 8- to 10-mile tempo runs at 8-minute pace, so I knew that I was still in familiar territory. I should be okay.
It was now extremely windy and cold. I could barely get my mind around even getting to the end of the block, let alone getting back to the start/finish area. I knew that there was positively no way I could even finish a marathon today. All I could do was hang on. I had the distinct sensation that my blood pressure or my heartrate or something were too high. I got tunnel vision, felt woozy, and felt like my head was going to explode. I get this feeling a lot when I'm pushing hard at the end of races. I'll have to figure out exactly what it is, so that I can avoid it.
Mile 3 8:06
I was supposed to eat here, but it was still too crowded. And I felt the slightest hint of intestinal upset. I didn't want to give myself that poopy feeling so soon, so I held off on the food. To my surprise, I saw Big Red up ahead of me. She was supposed to be running hard. She was supposed to be long gone. I came up behind her and gave her a big smack on the ass as I pulled alongside her. "Hey, girlie. How you doin'?" I asked
"Not good. My back's bothering me," Big Red's got a chronic back condition that comes and goes. "Run like the wind, my friend!" she called after me. Well that was no fun! I wanted her to have a great race that I could simmer with jealousy over later. I wanted her to be far, far ahead of me so that I would HAVE to finish the marathon, if only to not give her the satisfaction of beating me. At the very least, I wanted her to keep up so that she could keep me company for part of this long day. God knows I would be lonely enough on the second loop. But she was gone, and I never saw her again. She would later tell me that she was disappointed that I passed her so quickly, "But then I looked down at my pace and saw why," she said.
"Not good. My back's bothering me," Big Red's got a chronic back condition that comes and goes. "Run like the wind, my friend!" she called after me. Well that was no fun! I wanted her to have a great race that I could simmer with jealousy over later. I wanted her to be far, far ahead of me so that I would HAVE to finish the marathon, if only to not give her the satisfaction of beating me. At the very least, I wanted her to keep up so that she could keep me company for part of this long day. God knows I would be lonely enough on the second loop. But she was gone, and I never saw her again. She would later tell me that she was disappointed that I passed her so quickly, "But then I looked down at my pace and saw why," she said.
Mile 4 8:12
Well that's more like it! I was finally successful in reigning myself in... sort of. But now the hills were starting. Okay, they weren't hills. They were the slightest of rollers. There was hardly any elevation gain on the whole course. But I am a weak hill runner by nature, and since I've been doing 90% of my running indoors this winter (and it's easy to keep a treadmill at 0% incline), these hills might as well have been mountains. It was like the bungee had finally stretched to its limit, and now I was snapping back. Well that's alright, I thought (somewhat naïvely), I'm finally within my pace range. In fact, my watch was beeping more and more to tell me to speed up.
Also, I was getting pretty hot. I'd been warm and sweaty since the first mile, but now I was beginning to wonder if it would be a problem. I couldn't take my jacket off because it had my snacks in the pocket, and I had no other pockets. My jacket and I were committed to each other. I'd written what my splits should be at 4-mile intervals on my arm, but when I rolled my sleeve up to check, I'd already sweat mile 16 and beyond into oblivion.
Well that's more like it! I was finally successful in reigning myself in... sort of. But now the hills were starting. Okay, they weren't hills. They were the slightest of rollers. There was hardly any elevation gain on the whole course. But I am a weak hill runner by nature, and since I've been doing 90% of my running indoors this winter (and it's easy to keep a treadmill at 0% incline), these hills might as well have been mountains. It was like the bungee had finally stretched to its limit, and now I was snapping back. Well that's alright, I thought (somewhat naïvely), I'm finally within my pace range. In fact, my watch was beeping more and more to tell me to speed up.Also, I was getting pretty hot. I'd been warm and sweaty since the first mile, but now I was beginning to wonder if it would be a problem. I couldn't take my jacket off because it had my snacks in the pocket, and I had no other pockets. My jacket and I were committed to each other. I'd written what my splits should be at 4-mile intervals on my arm, but when I rolled my sleeve up to check, I'd already sweat mile 16 and beyond into oblivion.
Mile 5 8:08
I passed the Hoyts. This time, I didn't think I was going to throw up all over them, and I passed them sooner (I'm sure that the bigger "hills" in Hyannis compared to Disney make pushing a wheelchair harder and slowed their pace). Maybe it was because I was running slower. Maybe it was because they were running slower. Maybe it's because New Englanders are more stoic than the rest of the country (represented at the Disney Marathon). Maybe it's because everyone on The Pre-Boston Circuit has done half a dozen races with the Hoyts. Maybe I was just in a pocket of curmudgeons. But people around me weren't getting as worked up about the Hoyts either, which probably helped me to keep my excitement under control this time, and keep my breakfast down. I did speed up from my last mile, though, and we were still going "uphill."
I passed the Hoyts. This time, I didn't think I was going to throw up all over them, and I passed them sooner (I'm sure that the bigger "hills" in Hyannis compared to Disney make pushing a wheelchair harder and slowed their pace). Maybe it was because I was running slower. Maybe it was because they were running slower. Maybe it's because New Englanders are more stoic than the rest of the country (represented at the Disney Marathon). Maybe it's because everyone on The Pre-Boston Circuit has done half a dozen races with the Hoyts. Maybe I was just in a pocket of curmudgeons. But people around me weren't getting as worked up about the Hoyts either, which probably helped me to keep my excitement under control this time, and keep my breakfast down. I did speed up from my last mile, though, and we were still going "uphill."Mile 6 8:23
I already knew I was in trouble. My legs just weren't waking up. Running was hard. The course turned "downhill," but the wind picked up and I slowed down. You can still do this, I thought. Just run steady, and you won't tire out. Just cool your heels for a bit and you'll come right. But I knew. Deep down inside me, I knew that I wasn't going to be running a marathon today. I had done everything right today, and my legs just weren't coming around. I'd managed to get some food in, but I'd never practiced eating at this pace (remember? I didn't actually train for this race). It was hard to eat and breathe at 8:15 min/miles. And I could feel that my legs didn't feel the way they've felt on good runs in the past. They weren't springy. I felt like I'd started with half a tank, but it didn't matter because the engine would break down before I ran out of gas. I felt like I feel on the bike when a brake is rubbing.
I already knew I was in trouble. My legs just weren't waking up. Running was hard. The course turned "downhill," but the wind picked up and I slowed down. You can still do this, I thought. Just run steady, and you won't tire out. Just cool your heels for a bit and you'll come right. But I knew. Deep down inside me, I knew that I wasn't going to be running a marathon today. I had done everything right today, and my legs just weren't coming around. I'd managed to get some food in, but I'd never practiced eating at this pace (remember? I didn't actually train for this race). It was hard to eat and breathe at 8:15 min/miles. And I could feel that my legs didn't feel the way they've felt on good runs in the past. They weren't springy. I felt like I'd started with half a tank, but it didn't matter because the engine would break down before I ran out of gas. I felt like I feel on the bike when a brake is rubbing.Mile 7 8:04
We were gaining elevation again, but I sped up this mile. Maybe this was the part where I got angry at myself for thinking defeat. Maybe I tried to rally. Maybe this was the section where they had traffic going in each direction and no sidewalk on a narrow back street, but I pulled myself back together and soldiered on. I still FELT okay, I just knew that it was over. Maybe just knowing that my mind was already made up made me speed up for a decent half marathon. Could I still save this half marathon? Stupid question, idiot! You promised yourself that you would run 8:20's whether you finished a half marathon or a full! Stick to the plan! You might come around yet.
Mile 8 8:22
Time to check the splits on my arm again. I was still on pace, less than a minute faster than what it said on my arm. Can you keep this pace up for 18 miles without slowing down, though? I asked myself. I knew that there was no way. Can you finish a marathon strong? Maybe? I still held out hope. We were climbing to the top of what would be the biggest "hill" on the course now, and I felt like I'd been running uphill forever – since mile 3!
Mile 9 8:25
The course was now on Route 28, a highway as far as Cape Cod goes. It was 2 lanes in each direction with no sidewalk, and runners were crammed into a narrow three-foot strip on the side of the road. Some people were speeding up to negative split their races, while others were falling to pieces. There was a lot of passing going on, and not nearly enough space to do it. Also, the wind was picking up to about 15 mph and it was getting downright chilly.
Mile 10 8:30
The wheels fell off. We were headed back downhill now, but it didn't matter with the headwind we were running into. Turning off of Route 28, a man passed me. "Come on blue!!" he said. The marathon bibs were blue, half marathon were white.
"I'm not running a marathon today," I told him. Why wouldn't these people let me die in peace? Why is there always someone who tries to make you suffer more, when there is no way you could possibly run any faster?
"Aw come on, you're holding your pace! I've been trying to catch you for miles!"
"No, really. I gave up on this race a month and a half ago. I just want to get it over with now."
"You'd better not talk like that. Come on, you need a pacer?" he asked. "I'll slow up to get you through." It was exactly what I would have wanted on a perfect day, a symbiotic relationship with another runner: he would get company, I would get a pacer. But I knew I was dead meat.
"I will not take responsibility for you having a horrible race. Run on ahead, and I don't want to catch you back here again!" I said. "Believe me, I'm a gonner. Have a great race."
I was glad to see that he wasn't going to try to pull me along, because the air it took to have that conversation was enough to put me over the edge. I now wondered how I was even going to finish the next 2.5 miles, let alone a marathon. With all the passing and being passed that was going on, I couldn't find a comfortable rhythm and felt like I was running through pudding.
The wheels fell off. We were headed back downhill now, but it didn't matter with the headwind we were running into. Turning off of Route 28, a man passed me. "Come on blue!!" he said. The marathon bibs were blue, half marathon were white."I'm not running a marathon today," I told him. Why wouldn't these people let me die in peace? Why is there always someone who tries to make you suffer more, when there is no way you could possibly run any faster?
"Aw come on, you're holding your pace! I've been trying to catch you for miles!"
"No, really. I gave up on this race a month and a half ago. I just want to get it over with now."
"You'd better not talk like that. Come on, you need a pacer?" he asked. "I'll slow up to get you through." It was exactly what I would have wanted on a perfect day, a symbiotic relationship with another runner: he would get company, I would get a pacer. But I knew I was dead meat.
"I will not take responsibility for you having a horrible race. Run on ahead, and I don't want to catch you back here again!" I said. "Believe me, I'm a gonner. Have a great race."
I was glad to see that he wasn't going to try to pull me along, because the air it took to have that conversation was enough to put me over the edge. I now wondered how I was even going to finish the next 2.5 miles, let alone a marathon. With all the passing and being passed that was going on, I couldn't find a comfortable rhythm and felt like I was running through pudding.
Mile 11 8:23
Out of nowhere I hear, "HEY!" over my left shoulder. It was Gadfly Thom. I had never been AHEAD of Gadfly Thom in a race before, and certainly not this late in the game. I couldn't believe it. But it was over now. There was no way I was going to be able to keep up with him. "How you doing?" he managed to get out before he passed.
"Awful. Really, really awful." I guess something in my tone of voice told him that I wasn't being my usual sarcastic self on this one, because he didn't push me. I could see him for quite some time, pulling away in front of me (he's easy to spot: probably one of 2 black guys who did the race), and it just made me feel like I was sinking. I thought of stopping and waiting for Big Red, but I thought she would kill me for waiting. And what if she was right behind me, and I didn't even get time to recover before she dropped my sorry ass? There was nothing to do but keep running.
Out of nowhere I hear, "HEY!" over my left shoulder. It was Gadfly Thom. I had never been AHEAD of Gadfly Thom in a race before, and certainly not this late in the game. I couldn't believe it. But it was over now. There was no way I was going to be able to keep up with him. "How you doing?" he managed to get out before he passed."Awful. Really, really awful." I guess something in my tone of voice told him that I wasn't being my usual sarcastic self on this one, because he didn't push me. I could see him for quite some time, pulling away in front of me (he's easy to spot: probably one of 2 black guys who did the race), and it just made me feel like I was sinking. I thought of stopping and waiting for Big Red, but I thought she would kill me for waiting. And what if she was right behind me, and I didn't even get time to recover before she dropped my sorry ass? There was nothing to do but keep running.
Mile 12 8:45
It was now extremely windy and cold. I could barely get my mind around even getting to the end of the block, let alone getting back to the start/finish area. I knew that there was positively no way I could even finish a marathon today. All I could do was hang on. I had the distinct sensation that my blood pressure or my heartrate or something were too high. I got tunnel vision, felt woozy, and felt like my head was going to explode. I get this feeling a lot when I'm pushing hard at the end of races. I'll have to figure out exactly what it is, so that I can avoid it.Mile 13.25 8:43 pace
When I crossed the 13-mile marker, I took off my race belt and crumpled my number up in my hand. I didn't want anyone giving me a hard time about packing it in. I just wanted to drop out in peace. I knew it was the only option I had today. I put in as much of a kick as I could muster, but my pace was nearly equal to the past mile. I finished without fanfare in 1:50:03, for an average of 8:19 minutes per mile in real miles, officially 8:23. I was exactly 3 seconds off the pace for running a 3:40 marathon, if I had turned around and run the same exact race over again. Lord knows that wasn't going to happen. I was a mess.
Afterward
Big Red came in 3 or 4 minutes behind me, and we stood around for awhile waiting for one of her friends to come through. By the time he came in, it was raining, and the icy wind was constant. Over the next hour, it started to pour down rain, and as we were driving away from the expo center, we saw the 3-hour marathoners around the 23-mile mark. Their clothes were plastered against them from the wind and they looked like they were in hell.
Big Red had several friends in the Hyannis area, so we had lunch with her mother and a family friend while the freezing rain pissed down outside. Also, I had the same problem that I'd had after Disney where my lower intestinal tract shut down. I felt like my insides were rotting out, like someone had put my small intestine through a blender. Yet another reason to be happy I hadn't tried to run the full marathon.
I knew that not finishing the race was the right decision. There was no part of me that was upset that I'd quit halfway. I'd done the best I could under the circumstances, and I just didn't have a good race in me. Between the course and the weather, it just wasn't a PR day. There was absolutely no way I could have even finished that marathon, and I just would have made myself sick if I'd tried. There will be more chances in the future, and eventually my day will come. Today just wasn't it. The perfect day was probably last January in Disney World, but I decided to do something else with my fitness that weekend. My body will come around again and let me run strong some other time. But right now, it's several months past time to be moving on.
Goodbye, running. I'll see you again in the fall.
She's sung.
Big Red had several friends in the Hyannis area, so we had lunch with her mother and a family friend while the freezing rain pissed down outside. Also, I had the same problem that I'd had after Disney where my lower intestinal tract shut down. I felt like my insides were rotting out, like someone had put my small intestine through a blender. Yet another reason to be happy I hadn't tried to run the full marathon.
I knew that not finishing the race was the right decision. There was no part of me that was upset that I'd quit halfway. I'd done the best I could under the circumstances, and I just didn't have a good race in me. Between the course and the weather, it just wasn't a PR day. There was absolutely no way I could have even finished that marathon, and I just would have made myself sick if I'd tried. There will be more chances in the future, and eventually my day will come. Today just wasn't it. The perfect day was probably last January in Disney World, but I decided to do something else with my fitness that weekend. My body will come around again and let me run strong some other time. But right now, it's several months past time to be moving on.
Goodbye, running. I'll see you again in the fall.
She's sung.Update: I finally had the heart to check the results. Mercifully, I'm not listed in the marathon results with a DNF next to my name. I'm not in the half marathon results either, though. I would have finished in roughly 615th place out of 2044 overall (30%), and 88th out of 413 in my age group (21%). Last year I finished nearly 9 minutes slower to make only the top 54% over all, and 49% in my age group.
14 comments:
Dang, sorry about the bad day. Good on ya for giving it a try and hanging out with friends.
It can only get better.
I know what it's like to bail out when shit is just not going your way and in hindsight it's always the right call.
After this Ironman thing let me know if you want to ride together... figure I'm going to take a month off of running after this thing to heal and rehab right. I'll even come up to the "Great White North" .
Wind, hills...brutal. You will get your BQ, I know it. It definitely sounds like you made the right decision to bail half way through the race. No onwards and upwards to better things!
Sorry about having a bad race day. I still think you are such a great runner. And your day will come very soon. Don't give up running. Boston, is in your future.
I luv you, Claire.
Sorry to hear it just wasn't your day. The rest of the race i'm sure would have been totally miserable if you attempted to push through it with the driving rain and such. It's good to know when to push and when to just let go. There will be other races but for now...on to other things!
Bicycle.
what angry said.
"i want to ride my bicycle, i want to ride my bike"
I had a quick chat with running this morning and she told me to say she's sorry about Sunday, but don't hate her forever. She realizes things are a bit strained between you two right now and that you need some time apart. She'll be waiting for you when you're ready to come back to her.
Bicycle x 2.
Running is for crazy hippies...crap I guess this means I need to start wearing tie-dye...
I'm with Angry and Judi Bike X 4 and deadlift for good measure.
Running is for crazy hippies? That explains a lot.
Maybe I shouldn't buy that road bike after all.
Claire, do what you love. Don't do anything because you think you have to. And don't take advice from anyone other than yourself, including what I just wrote.
oh, you wimp. get out your running shoes and stfu!
just kidding....
i can't believe you fucking ran Hyannis--or started to. geez.
i think you just like to hurt and make yourself miserable.
that's why i like you, fyi. i get that.
i'm not going to tell you to stop running, because what fucking ever. You're probably running stu's this weekend and new bed the next. you're a big liar. you lurve running and all its big bad pain. ;)
It's like watching a family bury an old but beloved pet, and feeling okay about it. I can tell that you feel good about the race, about the season. Maybe disappointed, but with a good sense of closure. Perhaps, with a little tweaking, this would be a good portfolio peace, because you communicate the emotion so well. And now I feel calm and at peace, as well.
Good work, Claire. Can't wait to see what the cycling season brings.
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