This is not the post I had hoped to write following this weekend’s Eugene Marathon. My mind had crafted a post filled with sunshine and roses and tales of awesome PRs. And while there were several awesome PRs achieved this weekend (Meggie, Jocelyn, Mollie, Sarah, Kristina, Robyn, to name a few), unfortunately, mine wasn’t one of them. No, my race ended with yet another “close but no cigar” on the ever elusive BQ quest.
I worked harder in this training cycle than I can ever remember working since I did my 1/2 IM in 2009. I had a great coach, I PR’d every distance I raced all while training- i.e. no taper racing. When we moved to Jacksonville in February, we were fortunate to immediately find an awesome running club, PRS, full of runners who have pushed us and improved our running in just a few short months. I BELIEVED going into this race.
Sometimes running breaks your heart.
Miles 1-8:
Things started off well with Corey and I running together and “close” to several others we knew. We immediately passed the Oiselle cheer squad and settled into our pace. Thanks to Mason’s course preview we were correctly positioned to run the tangents- my Garmin beeped on the mile marker through 10 miles! We sped up a little through the downhill between miles 5-6, but settled back in and efficiently climbed “the” hill at 8.
Miles 9-13: The cheer squad was once again ready for us at mile 9 – handing off much needed hydration (thanks KMet for being my sherpa!). As we rounded the corner to mile 10, Corey mentioned possibly needing a bathroom stop. If you know me at all, you know bathroom stops are my middle name in races. I saw a group of porta potties coming up and said IF they are 2 open, we’ll stop. Scored 2…less than 30 seconds later, we’re back out on the course. I had been fighting my “urge” until that point. I thought a quick stop would be a magic cure, and I could settle back in for the rest of the race. We finally hit the trails and super pacer Mason was waiting for us. He asked how we were doing and Corey admitted she was having a moment. I chose not to speak- I felt ok (except for a slightly cranky hamstring) + wanted Corey to get the verbal encouragement she needed from Mason. We kept on trucking and crossed the 1/2 in 1:45 and change. Right on pace.
Miles 13-17: Just past the 1/2, Meggie scooted around us, and I decided her rhody shorts + hot pink socks were just the visual focus I needed to zone out so I latched on. I don’t even think I realized who she was running with at the time, but about 2 minutes later, Stephanie ran up beside me on her way to catch up to Meggie. Yes, Ben and Steph were running a few miles with Meggie so I was definitely all about hanging on to that group of awesomeness. Around mile 16, we again hit the Oiselle Cheer Squad then wound our way to the river path.
Following my leaders at Mile 16- photo stolen from mbsthinks instagram
It’s here that I made my first critical mistake of the race. I gave in and stopped at a porta potty. I let my rabbits go and stopped…for 2 minutes…EPIC race fail.
Miles 18-23: My stomach was pissed. It never settled back down. Anything in= something out. Nutrition and hydration disaster. And with that, mentally, my focus was gone. I couldn’t get out of my own head. I felt like I was hyperventilating multiple times. I tried to do mental math and figure out how bad my race was going to end up. And my run haze brain actually thought if I just kept my pace around a 9 I still had a shot at sub-3:40. A mental mathematician I am not.
Miles 24-26.2: Realizing I’d dumped my mental calculator in the last porta potty, I now knew it was highly unlikely I could make up the time running solo, but I kept begging my legs to try. I definitely picked up the pace through here and again, thanks to knowing the course, I knew to give all I had as soon as we made the final turn onto Agate. The Oiselle Cheer Squad had now grown (all those who ran the 1/2 were now cheering on the full) and was literally lining the course on both sides at 26. In classic ‘smile even when you’re crying’ form, I grinned and waved pushing on to the field of dreams- or nightmares in my case.
Photo cred Steph
Head up, {clipped} wings out- I made the final turn onto Hayward Field. I hate that I couldn’t appreciate the moment. Like OUaL, I had a little visit to medical so I’ll take that as a sign I left it all out there. (it was brief, and definitely a result of my GI issues)
3:40:16
16 seconds shy of BQ…again. Speechless, heartbroken, frustrated, angry. I have a lot of great memories from this weekend which I can’t wait to cover in a different post. For my own sake, I just need to get this all out there. Consider it my virtual form of PT.
I learned a lot of things this weekend. The hardest lesson being that sometimes running breaks your heart…fortunately, it’s not a permanent injury.
