BayState Marathon 2009

Hmm, this might be a longish post. My 26.2 miles was quite a journey, but I can imagine that not everyone will find it riveting. Here's the short version...it was less than a stellar day for me and I wound up crossing the line at 4:15:04. I don't want to whine too much. Like I told Nick "bad days happen, and it's a lot easier to live with a bad day versus a 'did not finish.'"

Although I don't want to be dramatic, the race was an emotional roller coaster. You've been warned...I'm planning on sharing my squishy insides.

Let's see where to start? The morning was fine. I did my typical routine and didn't feel too nervous. My parents picked me up and drove me to the start. I met Ana-Maria. We lined up together. The race started. It's probably worth noting that the temperature at the start was in the low 40's but there was no rain...yet.

From the start, I felt tired and my groin/hip injury was twinging. I was hoping that by 5 or 6 miles I'd be in a running groove and be fine. Ana-Maria runs with the GPS, so we were pretty much exactly at 8:00 minute pace from the start. After about 2 miles, I realized I was having trouble breathing. Side note: the doctors have diagnosed me with "moderate persistent" asthma, which started about two years ago. The last few weeks my asthma has flared up quite a bit, but it can be hard to determine how bad it is until I try to run. I'm on Advair and I often wind up on Prednisone if I get sick. I was taking Prednisone until the Wednesday before the race due to a cold. In retrospect, I guess it's not a shock that I had trouble breathing.

I had on a light jacket and hat, at mile 3 I tossed them to my parents because I was starting to feel warm. Here's the deal though, I didn't realize that the temperature would start to drop shortly thereafter. The picture you see was taken at mile 4. I'm in the green. Yes, I look really really happy. I just can't help myself though, that's how I look whenever I see Nick.

Honestly, I don't remember much about miles 4 through 10. Ana-Maria and I were still right at 8:00 minute pace. At some point it started raining and the temperature started to drop. At mile 11, I experienced just a little bit of chest pain, and that's when I slowed down. I let Ana-Maria go, who, by the way went on to run an incredible race. Once I slowed down the chest pain went away, but I was having serious doubts about finishing the race. I still had 15 miles to go.

I crossed the half point at 1:47, but I was having some serious issues. I just couldn't breath. I saw my parents somewhere around the half and they offered me my clothes back, which I declined. Of course, I probably sound crazy, but all I could think was what's the point? It was a steady rain. My jacket and hat weren't water proof. I figured they'd just be soaked and I'd still be cold. This is about the point that I just wanted to quit. I wanted to stop so bad, and I knew Nick was going to be waiting for me at mile 14. At mile 14, when there would still be 12 miles to go, I would have a graceful opportunity to step out. I also knew that it was my last chance. I wouldn't see Nick or my parents until the finish, so if I dropped out after, it wouldn't be gracefully. Mile 14 came and I ran right past Nick with tears in my eyes. He followed me for a little bit hoping I'd stop.

When I hit mile 15 I had to stop and walk. I did some quick calculations in my head and realized I could potentially have another 2.5 hours left if I had to walk a lot. I walked for about 2 minutes then started running again. From then on I was walking 1 to 2 minutes and running 5-8 minutes. I couldn't walk too much because it was cold and I was wet. I was most concerned about my fingers. I kept flexing them to keep them moving. I just kept everything moving. When I got too cold to walk I ran, and when my breathing got bad enough I went back to walking. Somewhere around 17 miles I saw a cute little girl around Kaylee's age and I started to tear up again. At 18 miles I saw a woman approximately my age vomiting. I looked away fast. I felt a little nauseous myself, and didn't need the encouragement.

Mile 20 came and my watch read 3 hours flat. The thought did occur to me that I could potentially break 4 hours if I could manage to run 6.2 miles in a little under an hour. I kept up my walk/run trend and mostly focused on finishing. I saw Nick at 26 miles, and said "I love you." He told me later that "I broke his little heart when I said it." I crossed the finish line, but didn't stop. Someone wrapped a space blanket around me and handed me a medal, but I never stopped walking. I was so cold that I was afraid to stop. I found Nick. He asked me what I needed and I said to get somewhere warm. At which point, he looked a little panicked. There wasn't anywhere to go. I told him to take me to the car, which was at least a half a mile away. I was shaking badly, having coordination issues, and my brain felt a bit fuzzy. So I just kept moving. Eventually we got to the car and made it home, where I took off my wet clothes and immediately put on warm ones. I didn't even shower. I put on a winter hat and jacket, had some hot soup, and was much better.

I'm sure the fellow runners out there understand why I wanted to finish so badly, but I'm also sure there are a number of you who don't understand. Here's what compelled me to finish the race:

1. My parents drove an hour to pick me up at the crack of dawn and bring me to the start, and I didn't even ask them. They volunteered. How could I stop?
2. Nick was standing out in the cold wet rain on our Sunday to see me run and pick me up at the finish. Also, all the babysitting he did so that I could train in the first place. How could I quit?
3. I want to be a good role model for Kaylee, and dropping out of the race didn't seem like something a good role model would do.
4. I paid for that stupid t-shirt and if I didn't finish it would always be there reminding me of what I couldn't do.
5. There's only one race I've ever dropped out of and I regret it. I try live my life with no regrets.

I have no regrets. I did the best I could for that day. Of course I'm disappointed, but like I said before, bad days happen. It's easier to live with a bad finish than no finish. And in case you're wondering, all I can think about is the next time I can run. I'll need to take a few weeks off to heal whatever my injury is, but it's going to be hard. Good or bad, running is something that I love.