Marathon #5: Part I

I’m back! I have been meaning to write this latest post for about two weeks now, but I’m going to have to chalk it up to technical difficulties and leave it at that. The good news, or bad news depending on how you look at it, I have a lot more to write about now… so we’re going to have to break this up into two parts.

Seventeen days ago I finished my 5^th marathon in 4:58:44. It didn’t go as planned, and I didn’t meet my goal time, but I had a whole lot of fun. For about 20 miles I was running with a huge smile on my face. At mile 20 the pain set in, and for 6 miles I pushed through possibly the worst cramping I’ve felt since Lucia was born. I can’t really say that I hit the wall at mile 20. I’ve hit the wall before, and I know what it feels like, and this wasn’t it. This was different.

I’ve had almost three weeks to reflect on what happened throughout those long 26.2 miles. Believe me I have analyzed, over-analyzed, every single step. After the initial moment of triumph that I felt when I saw Jason holding Lucia up in the air to see me cross the finish line I have to admit, I beat myself up a little. I made so many rookie mistakes.

I had a game plan. I was going to run the first 2 miles slow, at an 11:00 minute pace (that wouldn’t be too hard, the start is always slow, you’re moving around people and passing all the walkers). Then I would speed up to a 10:30 pace up until about mile 5, and run a 10:15 until about mile 10. Then I planned to speed up to a 10:00 mile at least until the half and try to maintain that as long as I could. It was a great plan, so why didn’t I follow it?

I ran the first two miles pretty slow. And as planned, at mile 2 I started to pick it up. The problem was, I picked it up a little too much. I glanced down at my Garmin at about mile 6 and all of a sudden I was running almost a 9 minute mile. I thought that it was a mistake, and my watch was just being goofy for a second, but that wasn’t the case. Mistake #1: I didn’t slow down. I felt great, I felt wonderful, I felt unstoppable. I saw my Dad and my grandmother a little bit before the 10 mile marker and my Dad shouted “You’re doing great Deborah, you’re doing great.” I smiled, shouted that “I feel awesome!!!!” and sped up a little more as we entered the Magic Kingdom. The whole time I’m thinking, “Man, not only am I going to make my goal time, but I’m going to blow my PR out of the water.” So I kept speeding up, and I kept a good stride. At about mile 12 my legs started to feel really tight. Mistake #2: I didn’t stop to stretch. I kept on going, my legs kept getting tighter, I didn’t want to stop, and I was determined to get my PR (remember a month ago I wasn’t even going to try beat my PR). So slowing down to do something as silly as stretching, hah, that was for amateurs. At the half way mark I saw my fan club again. Dad had some cold orange slices for me, so I stopped to fuel up a bit and told him that I was starting to feel tight. “You’re way ahead of the 4:30 pace group, if they pass you, just tuck in behind them and get comfortable and just cruise your way to the finish, it’s all heart now.” Great advice, seriously, I’m not being sarcastic here. But, the 4:30 pace group, could I do it? Mistake #3: I started to doubt myself. The mind games began. I had run the half in under 2:15. When I crossed the check-point I was on pace to finish at 4:29… plenty of room to play with, at least enough to make my 4:45 goal. Yeah, in 2 miles I went from “determined to get my PR” to easily making my goal. So I kept going, I knew I was slowing down, but the 4:30 pace group hadn’t caught up to me yet. At about mile 15 I really started to feel my legs giving up. The 4:30 pace group had passed me. Cardiovascularly I was fine, I wasn’t even breathing hard. But my legs, my best assets, my strongest parts, were betraying me. I kept making deals with myself, I’d tell myself that if I could run to the next water stop I would get a minute break to walk. That soon changed to, run a mile, walk a minute. And then finally run 5 minutes, walk a minute. At mile 20 as we were coming up on a small hill, my hamstrings just stopped working. This terrible sharp pain shot right up into my lower back and I could not bend my legs. I was done. Mistake #4: I gave up. I got scared. Yeah, I had done the training, finished all my long runs, and I had done this many many many times before... I still got scared. This was my 5^th marathon, but this was my first marathon as a Mommy. For four months of training I refused to let that be an excuse, for four months I looked past the extra weight I was carrying, the joint pain, and the clumsiness that just didn’t go away once my belly was gone like I thought it would. But, in the end all of that was enough to freak me out. Whether I like it or not, there are inevitable physiological changes that happen to a woman when she has a baby, and while it is completely possible to run a marathon 6 months after giving birth, I was kidding myself to think that it wouldn’t be a different experience. My hips are larger, my core musculature isn’t quite back to normal yet, and there is a lot more on my mind now when I run (after all, I am a Mom). And all of these things can have an enormous effect on performance.

So while, I’ve been beating myself up about my time, I still feel like I accomplished something really great. It’s time now to look at the bright side of things. Like Lucia saw me run a marathon as a six month old (In Disney World none-the-less). It wasn’t my best time, but it wasn’t my slowest. It was only 20 seconds slower than the last marathon I finished before I got pregnant (when I was 5 lbs lighter than I am now). I escaped the whole endevour injury free (after a few days of ice, tylenol, and rest). I am still running. I am still shrinking (4 lbs less than my pre-pregnancy weight, 15 lbs away from my goal). I’ve got another marathon coming up in May. And Lucia saw me run a marathon! Wait did I mention that already…

Part Deux coming soon