Resolution Run 6 Hour: The last PRs of 2017

After I raced the Jacksonville Marathon and came up with my 3rd fastest marathon on December 16th and the hurt-but-still-BQ'd Rehoboth Beach Marathon on December 2nd, I was definitely in recovery mode. I didn't even crack 20 miles the week before Christmas mostly because I was sore and tired. So I plodded along a few miles here and there, but it was all just slow and short. The top of my left foot felt bruised from JAX so I was also trying to be smart (ish).

The week of Christmas, I felt sluggish from all the cookies, steak, and wine. I asked Laurie & Jen on the 26th if they were doing the Resolution Run and they both were traveling. I did a 10 miler at MP +30 on the treadmill that evening and woke up the next day with a return of the sore foot and a head cold. Ugh. I took the 27th off running and decided to do an easy 5 mile progression Thursday.

On Friday, I woke up thinking I was just going to tell Matt I would skip the Resolution Run. But then he texted me a screenshot of his registration. Crap. I seriously wavered back and forth for hours about it all day when it popped into my mind. My sniffles were mostly subsided, but my stupid foot was still sore. I taped it up and told myself I would just wait until after work to decide.

It did actually feel much better with the tape and decided I would just sign up. The race fee was only $10 so even if I woke up feeling horrible, I could just either not go or hang out and volunteer.

With a 1:00 p.m. start in Greenville, SC, I had plenty of time to sleep in and pack up my gear in the morning. I made the 2 hour drive easily and ate some avocado wraps and granola I had packed about an hour before the race. It was definitely chilly just sitting around and I waited until about T-minus 15 to toss off my warm-ups before we got going. I popped a couple of ibuprofen, ate my traditional mini Snickers, and popped in my ear buds.

Matt got caught up at work and so I would be starting the race without really knowing anyone. Cool with a marathon, but kind of lonely in an ultra. The race director ran the first 1 mile lap with us so I just stuck to the front of the pack when we started. It was just under a 10:00 minute mile and while I was grateful for an easy start and conversation, it was nice to get moving after that first lap.

There was a teenager who leapt out in front and I watched his galloping, light strides as he slowly separated from me. He was built like a typical fast high school runner and immediately wondered how long he would hold that pace. I knew I was being a bit reckless with my own pace, but it felt comfortable and all my body parts seemed to actually being feeling good.

Each lap we ran, we had to grab a pebble from a 5 gallon bucket and place it into a cup. The first few times, it was kind of fun to stop and watch the pile grow. Admittedly, I got a bit annoyed with this system later in the race as other runners would take their time to choose a rock from the communal pile and drop it in their cup. Silly in retrospect as those few extra seconds didn't mean anything, but it was just one of the things breaking my rhythm every mile.

The course this year was less hilly than the prior year, but I still ended up with over 2,000' of gain for 40 miles. It was a mixture of paved sidewalk, concrete sidewalk, a smidgen of dirt, and a grassy soccer field. All of that in a mile. So just when I'd find my groove on the pavement, it would switch. And when I started to feel happy that the grass would be absorbing some shock, it would switch. So it really kind of was like an urban trail run in that you had to pay attention to your footing a good portion of the time.

I started blasting my music after the first mile, content to just put my head down and run until Matt got there. I was about 7 miles in when he arrived and we continued seeing each other in the same out-and-back section for many, many miles. It was kind of funny that we were running nearly the identical pace for about 15 miles or so. He stopped at the aid station at one point long enough that I was able to finally reach him when I was in my 20-something mile.

Somewhere in the late teens, I felt a twinge in the hamstring and started to panic. It wasn't acute like when it first happened, but rather the same residual soreness I had afterwards. Strangely enough, it dissipated after about 5 minutes and I never felt it again through the race. It kind of put me in a funk through those middle miles though as I was worried I was going to have to cut my run short.

When I did catch up to Matt, I was still in that funk. And really wasn't in any mood to talk. I kind of mumbled some words at him for about a mile and a half and then pushed him to go on ahead. Though I wasn't inherently feeling anything physically bad (wahoo!), I wanted to do quiet work by myself.

There was a 3 hour race that started at 4:00 p.m. and it was good to get some faster moving legs out on the course. The 12 hour runners were definitely into the zombie zone and the teenager who led the 6 hour for awhile had begun walking. About an hour into their race, I passed one of the 3 hour women and she must've thought I was in contention in her race because she immediately came blowing past me with a whole new gusto. Though I knew we weren't competing in the same race, it was good to kind of have someone be the pacemaker for at least a short while.

I had been pretty on top of my calories all day and was proud that side of the race was going really well. After I got into the double digits, I put my handheld on and kept hydrating until the final hour. I started with gels and then guzzled Tailwind in the middle miles. At some point, I grabbed a coconut bar and a handful of rosemary potatoes from the aid station and felt like a new person.

I drank an entire Coke from my stash as I was actually feeling sleepy in the second half. It seemed to be helping so I sought out another one from the aid station. I found one on the table, opened it, drank a quarter of it, and came back about 45 minutes later and drank the last quarter of it. Apparently I was sharing with someone, but these things somehow seem less gross when you've been running for 4 hours?

My marathon split was somewhere in the 3:40s and I was relieved when I hit that mark. Somewhere before I actually hit 50K, Matt and I were running together again and he asked if I had ever gone under 4:30 for a 50K. My 50K prior to this race was 4:47, but happy crossed over the line around 4:30 and Garmin beeped at 4:32:21. My GPS was losing about 2/100ths of a mile each lap so no official chip PR - just a Garmin one. But hey, a PR is a PR!

As it got close to 6:00 p.m. and the 5 hour mark, I noticed the waning sun and decreasing temperature. When I stopped to get my headlamp, I also tossed my gloves back on. I actually felt very comfortable temperature-wise the last hour so the gloves were a great choice!

Runner math was not really on the table until I had about 45 minutes left in the race. I was content to just get to a marathon, a 50K, then 35 miles. Once I got to 35 miles, I realized that I could hit 40 if I stayed within a reasonable pace. It was definitely getting harder and the miles were wearing on me. But with the finish nearing, I kept going. Just 3 more laps, just 2 more laps, just 1 more lap.

I knew I'd have 39.5ish on my Garmin when I stopped and really wanted it to say 40. But when I stopped after my 40th lap - the lap time became good enough. I was pooped. Happy, but pooped. I counted all my rocks, recorded my laps, and waited for Matt to come through on his final lap. He ended up with 33 laps - we basically did the same pace for 5 of the 6 hours - and he came in second!

40 miles in the 6 hour is a PR for me. Coming off 2 marathons and on a less-than-ideal course makes me feel good about where my fitness is even if my body parts are randomly uncooperative. There is always the what if factor of an ideal course and a rested body, but a couple of extra miles in the 6 hour is one I'm okay to leave on the table for now.

Midsummer's Dream Year 2: Sweet Revenge

I wanted revenge on this race. The 2016 version was by far the worst I have ever felt in a race. In my life. I've run longer and harder before, but last June, I took a serious trip to Funkytown and was physically uncomfortable for about 80% of the race.

I was so afraid that I was going to have a repeat of last year that I hesitated to sign up until the week of the race. I had a miserable training run on Monday night. My legs felt like concrete and I had no energy. I never cut runs short, but this was exceptionally bad.

So of course I went home and signed up for revenge on the worst race being held that Saturday.

I hadn't pinned a bib on since Boston and it seemed weird that I had gone 2 months without racing. But I had been running a lot--over 200 miles in May despite traveling 16 days in Europe. And before last night, I had racked up 100 miles in June.

There was a teeny bit of a taper in the days leading up to the race, but I had logged 58 miles the week prior and over 6,000' of ascent with my crazy run/hike/camp trip. I was a little worried that I wasn't going to feel fresh at the race, but I also knew that it was really important that I push myself now for my long term goals.

Luckily, I felt really good on my shakeout run on Friday afternoon and I was able to spend all day Saturday off my feet. I stuck with low fiber carbs, hydrated through the mid afternoon, and took a midday nap.

Dark clouds started to form as I drove the hour west towards the race site. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, the sky opened up and it began raining sideways. Thunder. Lightening. Ugh. I texted John and decided to stay dry as long as possible. Around 8:15, I grabbed my umbrella and decided to pick up my bib so that I was ready even if the rain didn't quit by 9:00.

Fortunately, it started to slow down and I lugged my cooler and gear through the muddy gravel towards John's set up on the course. By the time I laid out my stuff and changed into my shoes, it was pretty much time to line up. I spotted Nikki and Pete and we made our introductions. Luckily, I was geared to go because without any warning, the start gun sounded and we all kind of looked around in disbelief.

A couple of kids took off first and beelined down the course. I tucked into the pack behind Nikki, Pete, and Nicole. Our group had a couple of other guys and the 6-7 of us stayed pretty tight through the first 4 loops. The course was a mess for the first hour. Huge puddles of water extended over the entire path and the single track section was muddy and slippery. There was one really bad section where mud and water was up to your ankles and there really wasn't any good way to avoid it. Being a 1.2 mile course, everyone knew that we would be dealing with the water and mud all night.

It was extremely humid after the rain. I looked around at the other runners and by the end of the first lap, everyone was coated in moisture. Shorts were sopping wet. Skin glistened. Temperatures hovered in the 80's. I knew I was in for a long night of staying on top of keeping my core cool and staying hydrated.

On the 4th lap, Nikki, Pete, and Nicole peeled off to their gear and I stuck with a guy who had been with our pack. I decided to grab my handheld that was half frozen from my cooler on the next lap and a gel. The guy was keeping a solid pace and holding just below 9s which was where I wanted to be.  I stuck with him another 2 laps or so and then stopped for a bit longer as we crossed lap 7.

I had been hungry since the start, but my digestive nightmare from the year prior had me fearing putting too much on my stomach. So I decided to just try to get calories every 45 minutes during the race. The first 2 gels went great. By the time I was at 2:15, I was feeling sloshy and not interested in eating. The next 45 minutes went really downhill, really fast. My mind was struggling big time. The only reason I was still moving ok was 100% muscle memory. I really, really wanted to quit at 3 hours.

The strange thing was that nothing inherently hurt. My stomach was sloshy, but it wasn't painful. It was warm still, but I wasn't overheated. My legs were tired, but I still had something to give. My mind drifted to the insanity that I was going to run twice as long in 2 weeks in nearly similar conditions.

I started making deals with myself. Make it to 3 hours. (Later: Make it to a marathon. Make it to 50K. Make it to mid-30s (re: 35). Make it to my course PR.)

Luckily, Dan, Casey, and Alyssa showed up around midnight. I have never been relieved for course support in my life. They came at my race low. I ran a half lap with Dan and while it didn't push me out of the funk immediately, it did help to reset my race. As I headed past the 3 hour mark (and didn't quit with the 3 hour racers so I had to keep going), I started aiming towards the marathon mark.

Dan and Casey ran with John for a bit and it was awesome to hear their cheers as we passed each other on the course. I was starting to alternate hydration every other lap. Sometimes I would stick ice cubes in my sports bra. Sometimes I would suck on ice cubes in my mouth. Sometimes I would annoy myself for a half mile as the ice rattled in my bottle. I guzzled Powerade at one point and felt better for a few minutes, but then had a bit of sloshy stomach.

I grabbed half of an Uncrustable just before the marathon mark, knowing it was critical I start getting calories in my system. Just before 4 hours, I crossed the 26.2 and kept right on going. I ran a couple more laps until I stopped at the aid station and promised myself a 5 minute walk break. A cup of jelly beans looked good and I grabbed a few pieces of watermelon. I threw this odd combination in my mouth and used the walk break to digest the calories.

Magic.

I walked about 4 minutes or so total, but the break and the calories had me feeling human again. My legs were now the only source of ill as they were feeling tired at 4 hours, 20 minutes into the race. 50K was the next benchmark and Dan picked up a few miles with me.

Once I crossed the 50K mark at 4:44, I felt like I was going to be able to gut out the last hour. I wasn't quite sure if I was going to be running 9s or 11s, but either way, I'd end up in the mid-30s at least.

Dan ran a bunch of miles towards the end when I was far less talkative and far more focused. Luckily, he pushed the pace just enough. It was hard to hold on at times, but I just tried to keep up as much as possible. I grabbed some pretzels at one point towards the end and they were dry and hard to chew. I spit out half of them on the side of the track and kept running.

Doing some quick runner math, I knew I could do one more lap if I came in at 5:47 or faster. I told Dan I wanted to run in with a beer and that he was essentially relieved of his pacing duties when we got to the second to last lap. Fortunately, the knowledge that I could stop at the end of the final lap was enough to push me to run it sub-9.

Dan met me at the aid station with the beer and I ran down the final 100 meters with the cold can in my hand. Casey got a bunch of photos of me finishing and I was so relieved to just finally stop. I cracked open the cold beer and drank about a 1/4 of it as we stood around watching people come in to finish.

We got some more pictures with John and then we walked to our setup so I could change out of my shoes.

I started feeling queasy and hobbled over a few feet out of the way to puke a few times.

Oh running. Such a glamour sport.

Puking made me feel better fortunately. Casey walked down with me to pick up my finisher's medal, t-shirt, a few snacks, and hang out for the awards.

First place! 39.6 miles. A new PR!

We walked back to the setup and I worked on my beer while we cheered John on for a few more laps. As it neared 4 am, we all decided to call it a night. We all mourned a little that he still had many more hours to cover alone. It was a long, slow ride home, but I was happy to be in warmish, dryish clothes headed for bed. And happy to have (mostly) gotten revenge on this race!

Strava data here.

Snickers Albany Marathon RR (aka 28 Marathons Later: From 4:01:09 to 3:13:58)

Sunday A.M., 3/5/2017

Less than 24 hours after the race is complete and I am stewing on the facts.

I've created a monster. 

I am addicted to the hesitancy of mile 8 to go the distance, the self-doubt of mile 17 to maintain the speed, and the sheer physical pain that makes every mile 25 a negotiation to just get to the finish.

It is the penultimate in addiction. The more I train and race, the more I need to go faster and further. I am still in denial about how it truly makes me feel. How can I have had a huge PR yesterday and all I can think of today is what could I have done to go faster?

Who is this person? 

A look at the slippery slope after the race report....

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I made the 3 hour drive to Albany by myself. A rather large contingent of local runners were going as well and offered me a ride, but I was camping (thanks to the kindness of Gary, Travis, and Curtis!) and wanted to have access to all the junk in my car. It was an easy drive filled with plenty of car karaoke and sunshine. I had my usual footlong Italian sub at Subway and drank obscene amounts of water.

I got to the hotel with packet pickup just after 3:00 p.m. The 3:15 pacer happened to be one of two pacers manning the table and I spoke briefly with him. Luckily, I remembered to buy a few gels to pad my supply and then I went to my car to strip down for a brief shakeout run. As luck would have it, there was a nice little Greenway section along the river near where I parked and I took it nice and easy for 10 minutes out, 10 minutes back.

As I was coming back along the sidewalk area towards my car, the finish line was being constructed. I apologized as I came through, but I was secretly elated to have the vision of the finish line in my head. The run itself was pretty terrible. I was struggling through 8:00 minute miles and every little twinge was reminding me of their existence. Hello IT band! Hello Achilles! Oh hello shin, it's been awhile!

But I shoved the negative thoughts aside as I posted to Strava. I have to just trust the process.

It was stupid beautiful outside and so I set up my nail salon next to the Ray Charles statue in front of the hotel. Megan was traveling herself this past week, but she gave me all the polish and instruction. I was quickly reminded why she is so much better at it than I!

Runner friends started pouring in to pick up their bibs and I walked over to the hotel to chat with them and meet new friends. A group of us decided to have the pasta dinner offered by the race in the hotel's conference center. It was exactly the kind of pre-race dinner I like--a little roughage, blandish pasta, and a huge piece of chocolate cake.

After dinner, we met up with the guys I was camping with at Mellow Mushroom for a couple of beers. Being around other runners (and most of these people are also triathletes) is delightfully the same. There is never any shortage of sandbagging and poop-talk.

I followed the guys to the campsite (which also happened to be located in a park with a zoo!) and got my tent set up. We sat around the fire for an hour or two before finally calling it a night. I had plenty of sleep the night before so I wasn't really too worried about how well I was going to sleep on race night. I slept like a brick. I pulled the sleeping bag over my face and seriously woke up to my Garmin alarm clock at 5:25a.m. Not once did I wake up in the night panicked that I had overslept.

When I got up, I decided to eat first (2 pieces of bread with Nutella plus a few swigs of Starbucks Iced Coffee) and then disassemble my tent. By the time I got my camp broken down, I was ready to head to the bathroom and then change. I threw my pajamas back on over my race clothes for the drive because it chilly to be in shorts and a tank.

I followed the guys to the start line and parked in nearly the same spot I had the day before--right near the finish and on the same block as the hotel. It was about 6:20 a.m. Small town races really do have seriously pluses sometimes! We immediately saw some of our other friends and all walked into the lobby of the hotel together to stay warm. I ate my Snickers bar (prerace tradition!) and then decided to make one last bathroom break. Somehow I managed to find the darkened conference room restroom completely open.

Walking to the starting line was no different than any other goal race. I was quiet, withdrawn, and swirling in my own self-doubt. The bigger the stakes, the less likely I am to converse. I said hello to the 3:15 pacer after meeting him the day prior at packet pickup, but kept my conversation to a minimum. We were really close to the starting line as the half marathon and full separated within the first mile. I've only ever been that close in small ultras.

An actual cannon was shot and a couple seconds later, we were on our journey. I pressed start on my Garmin and play on my Shuffle. Lindsey Stirling's Take Flight seemed appropriate for the first half mile. A pack of about a dozen of us jockeyed back and forth behind the 3:15 pacer as the field spread out. There were 2 other females in the pack. A number of the runners were chatty and jovial in the first few miles. I probably came across as rude when one guy started to talk to me about Marathon Maniacs, but I kept my answers short and clipped. Every breath mattered.

The course ran east and south for the first 4 miles before returning to the start/finish area and intersecting with the half marathon course. It was delightfully perfect weather those first few miles and I was comfortable in my tank, shorts, and a pair of gloves. I didn't feel particularly good or bad right away. Honestly, much of the first part of the race is a blur. 7:36, 7:20, 7:31, 7:21

After we intersected with the half marathon course, I remembered to take my first gel at just mile 4--a Cherry Lime Roctane GU. I have had better success with gels and water as sometimes the Gatorade doesn't sit well with my stomach. I accidentally grabbed Gatorade twice on the course and drank one with pretty immediate regret.

Runners began to spread out a little bit more over the next few miles and I was pleased that I could just tuck in behind the pacer and a few of the guys running alongside him. It helped kept the wind to a minimum during those early miles and likely saved my race. 7:32, 7:19, 7:23, 7:23

The pacer peeled off to use the porta-potty around the Albany State University West Campus after we crossed the mile 8 sign. I was confident he would catch back up with our little pack, but I was feeling confident to just go ahead. The knowledge that if he caught up to me meant that I was still in the 3:15 range was a good thing. I would hopefully hang on if he did catch up, but there was a certain feeling of safeness if I stayed out ahead. I had a Honey Stinger Mandarin Orange gel at just past the mile 8 mark.

When our pack loosened up from the pacer pit stopping, I heard a spectator (I'm assuming a coach) shout to a girl in our pack to "tuck in behind someone". We were headed out on a long straight stretch along Gillionville Road and while the wind wasn't bad, it certainly was noticeable. Many of the runners were keeping a pretty even pace so it was easy to just focus on the foot strike of the person in front of me. 7:21, 7:16

Mile 11 brought us through a residential area with a few rolling hills. I had a couple of low moments during that stretch where I watched a few runners pass me though I was keeping a pretty even pace. However, I knew that I couldn't trust my mind so early and that there would still (hopefully) be better patches. 7:22, 7:22

I had another Cherry Lime Roctane GU just past the mile 12 marker and popped 2 Excedrin. I am not sure if the Excedrin is more placebo than painkiller, but I've taken some during ultras and it seems to work. As the course crossed over the 13.1 mile marker, I noticed that I was slightly slower than a 3:15 pace if I wanted even splits. Running that fast wasn't new territory for me, but I had run 2 marathons with positive splits when I had tried to stay in the 7:20s. The hard part was to now trust that I could run a bit faster during the second half. 7:30, 7:26

Mile 15 was spent reeling in a pack of 3 runners who had started with the 3:15 pace group. They had been within my sight the entire race, but I started to slowly pull closer to them. By mile 16, I was running right behind them and happy to be within a pack of people again. My music was blaring, but I could hear snippets of their conversation. I knew I was being annoying being right on their heels, but I justified in my mind at the moment that every edge I could get would help me reach my goal. I had a Huma Chia Apple Cinnamon gel at just past the mile 16 marker. 7:20, 7:25

During mile 17, one of the runners dropped off and then it was just me, a guy, and a girl. They ran side by side for quite some time and then they switched back and forth with one person leading the other. I was always in the back of the peloton and eventually felt strong enough to go towards the front. As I went past, they followed suit for a bit. However, by the time we got to the mile 18 marker, they had fallen back a bit. 7:22, 7:22

I had looked at the course map briefly to know that the lake was near mile 18 and that typically it is a low point in a marathon for me. Running 18 miles and facing 8.2 more always seems daunting. But I was having a great race so far and feeling very little signs of faltering in the last hour. I tried to do a bit of quick runner math to calculate how fast I would need to go to hit the A++ goal of smashing 3:15, the A goal of 3:14:59 (because who wants a :00 when you can have a :59), B goal of sub 3:19:15 (the PR to beat), C goal of a BQ (when did my C goal become BQ??), and D goal of just finish the damn thing. 7:13

I had an Espresso GU at the mile 19 marker and suddenly felt really, really good. Like runner's high good. Something in me knew that I was going to make this happen and I felt so strong. When I crossed the mile 20 mat, a runner next to me exclaimed, "only 10K to go!" 7:23

The next few miles, I was careful to stay calculated in my assault on the last 10K. Those last 27 marathons were useful for something: the last 10K will always make or break a race. There is a reason they call it the wall. But I was strategic in my nutrition and pace and was hoping that I would just let it all out in the last 3-5K. 7:20, 7:17, 7:31

At some point, I saw Nikki and later, Sean out on the final miles of the course. It is always great to see people I know racing and both of them had laid down some killer fast miles early on in the race. Both of them are incredible runners and I was humbled to be shoulder to shoulder with them!

I had grabbed two Hammer Apple Cinnamon gels from one of the hydration stations (swag!) and actually was able to suck down another one at mile 23. Forcing the nutrition early and often seemed to work so I decided to just stay on top of the calories if my stomach could handle it. There were a bunch of turns in mile 23 and I was so ready to start looking for signs that we were headed back to the downtown area. 7:20

With 2 miles left, I was ready to empty the tank. I thought about mile marker 2 on the Greenway and knew that all those progressive runs were for a reason. That 3:15 was going to happen! At this point, I was passing a bunch of runners and each person I picked off fueled my competitive fire. 7:07

Somewhere along the last mile I spotted a group of guys in warm-ups along a straightaway. I knew it was the half-marathoners in the local group that had come back to cheer on the full marathoners. I was in high gear coming in towards them and seeing familiar faces gave me that one last boost I needed to charge towards the finish. 7:08

When I spotted the mile 26 sign, I started keeping an eye out for the mile 13 sign so I could just charge down the finish. Luckily, it was an easy downhill and short straightaway. I leaped over the timing mat with 3:14:XX on the clock. Last 0.4 miles: 7:11 pace

Oh. Em. Gee.

As I clicked off my Garmin and collected myself, I realized that I might actually be 3:13:XX! But I was too elated to care about seconds. I had reached my A++ goal and I felt GREAT throughout most of the race. I believed that I could do it and I did!

I went and sat on the hill next to the finish chute and watched my friends come in. John smashed his PR and earned his ticket to Boston. Casey punched her BQ card by giving it everything she had through the finish line. As we waited for everyone to cross the line, we regaled race stories, drank beer, and enjoyed a gorgeous March day. No matter their time, everyone gave it all they had and being a part of a community like that will leave you pretty darn misty-eyed.

At some point, I went to get my phone out of my car, grab my warm-ups, and check the official time. I was 7th overall and 1st in my age group! 3:13:58

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Many (most?) people reading this will know I've been marathoning since 2009 and running a good chunk of my life. I ran 5 marathons before I got the idea to try to qualify for Boston. I stuck to my training schedule like a perfect type A and had the race of my life on December 7th, 2013. It still gives me chills to think about it. No race has topped it. Not finishing Boston, not winning my first ultra, not finishing my first 100 miler. Nothing.

So maybe I'm in search of that feeling again? I've come close. Yesterday was really, really close. I think when you work for something really hard and still have doubts that it will happen, it feels better when you achieve it. Perhaps that's why I didn't feel that way about Boston or the ultras. I knew I could do it. This felt close because I still had a lot of self-doubt. But it's funny how accomplishing one thing makes you feel like you can tackle the next big thing. Breaking barriers doesn't happen overnight. This has been quite a long journey and yet, I feel like I am just getting started. 

Rehoboth Runparty PR Bonkfest

A year ago, I thought I didn't need to go to Rehoboth again. It had given me my first BQ in 2013.

A tutu PR in 2014.

And the best race ever in 2015.

What else could I need from this race in Delaware?

Apparently nothing and everything.

I had everything I could want in 2016. There is so much to recap, but I'll do that in a separate post. I signed up for Rehoboth mid-year without any goals or expectations in mind. In fact, I still would have been satisfied with merely a medal around neck. The finish time never mattered.

And not that I'm dissatisfied with a PR (spoiler alert!), but it solidified that my relationship with running and racing is not always measured by the clock.

Thursday, 8:30 p.m.
Megan came by as promised to paint my nails. She found a fabulous nautical theme that matched my previous finishers' medals.

She also dropped off an envelope for me to open on race morning.

Thursday, 11:00 p.m.
I brought our senior dog, Luxy, downstairs to go to the bathroom outside. She had been whining off and on all evening, but I couldn't quite figure out what was going on. When I set her in the grass outside, she started having a terrible seizure. I watched helplessly as she shook. After a few minutes, I brought her trembling body inside and called for Adam to come down. We watched over her lying on her side, wordlessly wishing that the pain would be over for her soon. Neither one of us spoke much and eventually, I pulled the bed over by the family room rug so I could lay on the floor.

Adam eventually fell asleep on the sofa with Torrance and Moe. I dozed off and on, resting my head on a cushion on the floor, one hand on Luxy's failing body. I changed out paper towels at intervals and fretted about what I was going to do when it became imminent for me to leave for the airport.

Friday, 5:45 a.m.
Wrecked with guilt, Adam and I were forced to discuss how/when to take Luxy to put her down. I hated to leave him to take care of it all. It seemed so wrong and selfish of me to go. But I was also relieved as I knew that I didn't want to be sitting around for 4 days (that I had taken off work for Rehoboth) at home, surrounded by sadness.


It took me 15 minutes to walk out of the house after I tried to leave the first time. My slow tears grew into big, ugly sobs. I kissed her forehead 100 times and held her in my arms. I ran upstairs before I left and grabbed her collar (which she hadn't worn for a few months as she was no longer a flight risk) and stuffed it into my purse. As I stepped out the door and forced myself to close it for good, my heart ripped apart. The drive to the airport was about an hour and I spent a good 30 minutes gasping for air while I cried uncontrollably.

The tears subsided as I parked, checked my bag, and went through security. When I reached my gate, I texted Adam for an update. He called me back and told me that she had passed at home while he was getting ready. I tried to keep my composure among a terminal full of strangers, but tears streamed down my face with the news. I was relieved for the end of her pain and the feeling of closure, but I allowed myself to feel grief. Sweet girl, you are missed.

Friday, 11:30 a.m.
I was so wrapped up in the my thoughts when I stepped off the plane that I didn't even notice Steve was waiting for me in the terminal. I started walking with a purpose towards baggage claim and he had to catch up to me. Seeing a good friend gave me a sense of relief. Though my heart was heavy, Luxy's death was also a reminder that our time here on Earth is short. I could allow myself to be sad when the moments washed over me, but it was okay to be happy too.


We went to pick up the rental car, got a free upgrade (!!), and headed out to Rehoboth Beach. There was the usual stop of Subway and a supply run before we pulled up to the beach house right behind Erin and Bacon.

Friday, 3:30 p.m.
Erin and Bacon were wearing the race shirts from packet pickup because both didn't have an extra long sleeved shirts. They were about to do a 20 minute shakeout run and suggested we come along. I decided to walk the block down the street to packet pickup (awesome rental house location!!) and then I switched shirts in the street so the 3 of us could wear our race shirts during our shakeout run. Unnecessary and superstitiously bad? Yes. Hilarious and worth the odd stares from strangers? Also yes.


Friday, 5:00 p.m.
While waiting for the rest of the crew to arrive, we headed over to Dogfish Head to grab a beer or 2. DFH never disappoints and I had two brewpub exclusive IPAs.

A few more joined us for the second round and then we all walked back to the house. Dinner was started (thanks Caitlin and Chris!) and soon, we were sitting around the huge dining table cramming spaghetti into our mouths. Others joined us later and a total of 12 stayed at the house this year--a small group compared to the first year I went, but the smaller number kept things like meals much easier to coordinate.

Friday, 8:30 p.m.
After dinner, we sat around talking about running as runners do. I was exhausted from barely sleeping the night before and was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Once the first suggestion was made to call it a night, I bolted upstairs to get some sleep. Caitlin and I were sharing a room and we laid out our flat girls before snuggling into bed.


Saturday, 5:15 a.m.
I heard Caitlin's alarm go off and I laid in bed knowing that I didn't have to get up right away. My alarm was set for 5:30 a.m. and that was plenty of time to get ready with the start line only a couple of blocks down the street. I got a bagel and coffee first and then went back to change into my race clothes. I tore open the envelope Megan gave me when she painted my nails and inside was a bracelet inscribed with the words she believed she could, so she did.

I immediately knew that I had to wear it while racing. I touched Luxy's collar in my purse and then met everyone downstairs.


I had a Snickers bar right before we left and felt completely at ease as we walked towards the start. A PR was definitely possible given my year, but I knew it would completely depend on how I felt once my legs got moving. The weather was perfect at the start. Chilly and sunny. The wind seemed to be okay.

Saturday, 7:06 a.m.
Everyone was murmuring about when we were to start, but the gun finally sounded a few minutes after 7. I took my time easing into the first mile and tried to relax as we spread out. People position themselves fairly well for this race and I didn't have to do too much weaving. I tried to stay close to the right hand side of the road, knowing the first few turns were right.

My legs felt pretty good from the beginning and I decided that I would make a go for it when I hit the second mile. If I failed, at least I had given it a shot. The wind was noticeable as we headed on the straightaway along the 3rd mile. If it kept up, I knew I would be in for some tough miles later on. 7:39, 7:13, 7:22

I saw Erin, Bacon, and Ken on their way back after the turnaround for the half-marathon. Then the full marathoners split off onto the first section of trail. I noticed the slight increase in effort right away, but it became ridiculous when I hit the crosswinds next to the lake. 7:17, 7:30, 7:24

I was still trying to reel in runners in the single digit miles as the course wound through Cape Henlopen State Park. I'd run shoulder to shoulder with someone and then one of us would slowly fall back while the other inched forward. At the out-and-back I saw 2 females ahead of me and a bunch right in my shadow. 7:33, 7:15

The highway section felt particularly tough this year. The headwind going into miles 9 and 10 was ferocious and I tried to stay in the back of a pack of runners. There were 3 guys and 1 other girl and the 5 of us fought together, jockeying for various positions as we ran down the stretch. 7:31, 7:32

At the turnaround, I felt a sense of relief as we picked up the tailwind and headed back towards town. There were still 16 miles to go, but there was something about running "back" that felt good. The other girl we were running with dropped back along with one of the guys and the other 2 guys in our pack took off in front of me. I saw Steve, Caitlin, and Angie on their way out and mustered waves and smiles as best I could. 7:23, 7:16

I wavered a bit at mile 13. I was about to annihilate my fastest half marathon split in a full. But I started to feel the efforts of the first half catch up with me hard. As we ran up a very teeny hill around the lighthouse, I knew the second half was going to be tough. I hated having these negative thoughts so early, but I allowed myself to know that I would still had an awesome afternoon/evening no matter what it said on the clock. 7:20, 7:40, 7:30

There were big stretches where I was alone at this point. My thoughts drifted to Luxy and a few tears dripped down my face. Running in the cold had my nose dripping enough; this was just excessive. I touched the bracelet on my wrist a few times and fought through the dark places. 7:31, 7:40

The course travels back through town at mile 18 and runners (cruelly) can see the finish line. I was not in a happy place. As the course hit the road section that connects to the second trail, huge gusts of wind nearly stopped me in my tracks. I felt as though I could have leaned into the wind and it would have held me up. Gah! 7:44, 8:00

There were still a good number of half marathoners on the trail and so it became quite crowded again. I was actually glad for the mass of humanity as it gave me small targets to hit with each step. But without looking at my watch, I knew that any chance of my second half matching my first half was not going to happen. I saw the first place female who was way ahead and then I saw the second place female about a minute ahead of me! 8:06, 8:11, 8:02
 
Whoa. Third? I ran a 3:20 at this race last year and was 10th? I saw a few females not too far behind me so I definitely had to find another gear for the last 4 miles. Except it wasn't anywhere to be found. I knew 4 miles was a long way to go at the end of a marathon and it could shred anyone no matter how close to the finish they were. I saw Steve, Caitlin, and Angie who all managed to shout or give high fives. 7:49, 7:44, 8:02

When I hit the pavement again and could spot the mile 25 sign, I was so relieved that it was almost over. And I was 3rd overall! I spotted JB crouched down along the road and whacked him on the head as I went by because I was so elated to see him.

The race photographer got a few shots along this stretch too.

The smile is fake. I am dying inside. I come around the sharp corners of Canal Crossing Road and then out onto Rehoboth Avenue. My arm warmers are annoying me and I take off my gloves. As I am shoving them into my sports bra, a girl goes flying past me in a marathon bib.

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?

I try to find that other gear. Revved with adrenaline of being passed at mile 25.7, I dig deep and.....shred my calf.

What. The. Eff.

My gloves fly out of my sports bra as I struggle to even keep up with the pace I was at. My calf is screaming in pain and I am hobble-running into the final turns. 7:22

I come into the finish chute and feel wrecked. I cross over the finish line with a shiny new PR and am shocked at how pissed I feel about losing 3rd.

Who is this person?! When did I start caring about that kind of thing?!

I collect my race medal and heat sheet and then I have to collect myself. Holy emotion Batman! I should be happy about my PR. 3:19:22!

But it doesn't sink in yet. I am mad about losing 3rd. I am mad that my calf hurts. I am mad that the race was really hard. I am mad that my dog went over the rainbow bridge. I am mad that I am not happy.

I laid on a side street spread eagle on my back for a few minutes. I am exhausted and broken, but I know a few minutes alone dealing with it will point me back in the right direction. Eventually, I pull myself up and see Jenster walking down the street towards me.

Saturday 10:40 a.m.
Jenster and I walked down the street and wait to see Steve, Caitlin, and Angie come through the finish. There is nothing like watching people finish a marathon to cure you of moping. Within a few minutes of cheering and clapping, I shut down my sorry parade. It really didn't matter what the clock said or what place I came in or how tough it was. I'm lucky enough to be doing it and lucky enough to be surrounded by a lot of really, really great people afterwards. And that's everything I need.