My recovery after The Stinger was garbage. I got a cold that Monday that coincided with my body feeling like a wreck from running 108 miles. Then we put Tory down that Saturday which was highly emotional and I’m sure shot my already high cortisol levels into the stratosphere. The following week Roger came to town for Thanksgiving and while we had a great time eating and drinking, let’s just say that it was not the healthiest few days.
The few runs I did in this timeframe felt pretty awful. Not injury awful, just couldn’t shake the feeling of fatigue. A 3 mile run felt like a 10 mile run. I knew a marathon was a lot to chew if I was feeling so pooped, but I was hopeful that race day magic would prevail at least to get me to the finish line.
That being said, I was the calmest I had ever been at a marathon start line. It was marathon #47. I had raced a pretty fast marathon at Chicago 8 weeks prior and secured a BQ for 2024. Let’s just say that my expectations, while always high, were not where they typically would be at the start of a marathon. Coupled with the fact that it was warmer and rainier than I would prefer, I knew it was going to be a day to give it an honest shot without overdoing it.
I decided to run with the 3:35 pace group to start. If it felt hard, I would give myself grace to back off. If I felt good by mile 20, I would press for the final 10k.
I knew I really didn’t need arm warmers and gloves when I stepped out the door in the morning, but I wore them anyway because I was afraid I might get cold later when the rain was supposed to pick up. I lasted about a mile before I peeled off my gloves and spent the next few miles carrying them before I finally ditched them at a water stop.
The boardwalk section was crowded as usual so I just tried to let the waves of people flow around me, not worrying too much if I stayed super close to the pace group. While I wasn’t confident if a 3:35 was in my wheelhouse for the day, I was confident that I could catch up pretty easily in the early miles if needed.
It felt easy enough in the first few miles. Definitely not forever pace running, but I was calm and relaxed. Of the other Loopsters, I only saw Eric and John at the turnaround (mile 4.5) before heading out onto the full marathon course. This was my 9th Rehoboth Marathon and 8th time running this section of the course so there was a sense of tranquility entering the Gordon Pond area. I could hear footsteps of other runners on the crushed gravel trail as we snaked our way around the water. Despite all my racing, I still often have imposter syndrome. However, I felt very at ease with the familiarity of this moment.
I started to jostle a bit for position with the other runners in the pace group. Running too far back makes it difficult to navigate water stops and once past the first few miles, I wanted to be sure I got what I needed at each stop. The rain started to pick up a bit in the single digit miles and I briefly considered pulling my arm warmers back up. However, it stopped just as quickly as it started and I was warm again.
When we reached the Cape Henlopen Drive section (mile 10), I was feeling quite good. I felt the pop of being back on the road again and ended up talking with the pacer for a couple of miles. It was a nice distraction and a good reminder that I was in a happy place if I could conversate and run. I saw Roger in this section and got a high five as he cruised along ahead of me.
As we made our way back to the trail section, I cheered on other pace groups and scanned the field for Angie. She looked happy as we crossed paths and gave each other “woohoos”.
The marathon, being the fickle beast that it is, started to pick off people slowly in this next section (mile 14). We started catching people who had fallen off and I empathized, having been there before myself. But I was having a good day for the most part and in fact, lost myself in a train of thoughts at one point, forgetting that I was racing a marathon.
My legs started to feel tight and tired as we neared the Gordon Pond area, but I didn’t feel like I was struggling from a cardio/lung standpoint. I figured that I probably just needed to be really diligent about fluid intake over the next few water stops. Maybe it was a bit of a loosey goosey strategy, but I wasn’t picky about taking either water or Gatorade. I was remembering to take a gel every 4 miles and my stomach felt settled.
Shortly before mile 18, the course hops back on the road and our pace group narrowed to maybe 4 runners. There was one really tall guy who was running next to me for a long time and we were right on the pacer’s heels, letting her do the work. The carnage of people dropping off pace is sadly quite easy to see on Henlopen Avenue as it’s a straight shot of very flat road. We had been running pretty even splits (which I only noticed after I uploaded my splits) so there were very few people passing us at this point.
I knew we had about an hour’s worth of work to do once we went past the street where the finish line is located. I hadn’t looked at my watch except to confirm mileage to take my gels as the pacer had been giving us updates all morning that we were running around a 3:34:30 pace.
Around mile 20, the pacer hopped into a portapotty and I’ll admit, I felt a little sad that my crutch was no longer there. Yes, I was running a marathon myself, but pacers take so much of the mental work out of it for me. The tall guy and another woman who joined our group late were still cruising smoothly so I just let them take charge and I stuck with them for a bit.
I saw Roger again in this section and he still appeared to be in pretty good spirits for the few seconds I saw him. The turnaround on the trail seemed a lot closer this year and at the end of a marathon, this was a good thing! Flag alley seemed to reinvigorate me and shortly after the turnaround, I passed the tall guy for good. The woman was still moving well, but I strangely felt a surge of energy just past mile 23 and started to push, slowly pulling away from her. It felt really, really good and as I opened up my stride, I enjoyed this bit of bliss for as long as I could. It’s not too often you feel great at mile 23 so I was soaking it in.
It waned a bit as I neared town and got back on the pavement, but I was still all smiles as I thanked the volunteers and made eye contact with the few spectators braving the rain. As I came to the final stretch, I felt as strangely calm as I did in the beginning of the race. 9 years ago, I was blissed out to run my first BQ at this same race in 3:32:54. And now, with nearly a decade more experience, I was blissed out to run a 3:32:55.
1 sec. difference in time from your run 9 years ago?!! Amazing!!!
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