When Life Hands You Lemons (my Philadelphia Marathon recap)

When life hands you lemons....sometimes you're just plain out of sugar and you have to eat the lemon. That's how I might quickly sum up my disappointing marathon yesterday in Philadelphia.

I mentioned in my post about pushing for a PR (sub 4) with the Hanson's Marathon Plan, I really pushed harder than ever in my training. And I can't deny - I was feeling very confident. So confident, I was actually considering going for a 3:45 if the first half went like I thought it could.

But by the time I flew to Philly Friday afternoon the forecast was calling for "gale force" winds on Sunday with a major storm from rolling in Saturday night and blasting the region until Monday with winds from 15-30mph and gusts much higher. The temp before the wind was in the 40s, which is my favorite running temperature. So I kept holding onto that and praying that at some point those winds would be at my back and "even out" the effort. Wrong.

I stayed with one of my running buddies and her hubs, who used to live in Philly and kept their place there. We had planned to run together as much as we could (if we would have hit out target, she would have gotten a BQ which I was using as my own sort of motivation).

Saturday night the storm rolled in and the wind was howling. On our walk back from dinner it starting sinking in that this was real. It wasn't going to maybe "go north" or not be as bad as they said. Trees were whipping around and small branches were falling. I started debating my race plan. When I was going to bed I honestly didn't even feel like putting myself through this run. But I woke up Sunday and had a renewed sense of determination. The winds were supposed to be 16-20mph for the first few hours. But they were predicted to pick up to about 28mph by 10am. The race started at 7, so I thought maybe if I could fight through the first 20/21miles, by then I could will myself the last 45-50 minutes. Or maybe the wind would be at our backs. Hey it could have happened...

Self talk. I was right for 3 hours, anyway...

We both decided we were going for it. Too much training, too many speed sessions, and too much unknowns with the wind patterns. The first 10K we were cruising, and my beanie blew off at mile 5. Our watches both had us at 8:15s, but the course already started getting long and we crossed the 10K mat at 6.35 miles on our watch. That meant our avg was lower, but still where we wanted it to be (52:53 for an 8:30 pace). There were wind gusts but it "seemed" manageable. There are a few big hills in the course and they are all between miles 7 and 10, so we knew we'd be a bit slower there, but we were still pushing hard through the gusts, which seemed to pick up and we tackled those hills like a boss and got to the halfway point still on target at 1:54:24 for an 8:43 avg pace).

This is where it really changed. The second half is an out and back on the river. I had really been looking forward to this because I happen to love out and backs. But we made that curve to the river and the winds just started whipping consistently. I was still hoping that maybe it would move direction, so I kept fighting. I felt like my effort was still the same, but the numbers on my watch were slipping. 9:21, 9:29...you get the picture. I crossed the 30K (18.6 miles) at 2:47:50, now an even 9 min pace. In theory I still could have easily broken 4 hours at my usual effort. But I was not running my usual effort. And I hadn't been. The truth is, I knew at mile 9 it probably wasn't going to happen. I was having to fight too hard to stay on pace. You can't be fighting at mile 9. It needs to still feel easy at that point.

I looked at my watch somewhere between 19-20 and I was now out of reach for 3:50 and 3:59 was only possible if the weather would have magically vanished. But in fact, it picked up. It was 10am, and right on cue, those winds got stronger. I was done. I think I just used so much more energy than normal, I was just plain exhausted. I stopped and walked for a minute. I watched my friend trudge on, bless her soul. For me, when I accepted the fate of the day...there just shy of mile 20, I lost all my fight. It wasn't in a temper-tantrum kind of way, or a quitting kind of way. I felt actually very rational. I worked my tail off for months to run under 4 hours. And it wasn't going to happen today. I've run a 4 hour marathon and I just had no interest in killing myself anymore in these conditions if I wasn't going to make that happen. I didn't want to get hurt or feel like absolute crap for a non-PR.

So I decided to walk to mile 21 and reassess. It was a long mile which consisted of the 7 stages of grief. Then I called my sister. Our conversation:

Crys: "Summer?? Are you in the race?"
me: "Yes." sniffing
Crys: "ARE YOU OK?!?!" always the protective big sis
me: "yeah. I just need to cry to someone for a minute."
Crys: "ok." (commence crying)

She let me get it out for about 30 seconds and then started saying lots of positive things like you would expect. And then she reminded me it takes a long time to walk 5-6 miles slow and in gusting 25-35mph winds that made the temp in the upper 20s, in soaking wet clothes with no hat, I could really be in trouble if I completely strolled. She pleaded with me to walk fast or run super slow just to keep my body temp up so I could get to the finish without medical assistance.

I did a combination of both of those things. And I will spare the details of that last 10K but it was rough. Even trying to walk fast in those winds was defeating. I couldn't feel my hands or my cheeks and I started shivering. But eventually I got there. And marathon number something (15?16?) is in the books.

Thawing out 

I have to say, as disappointed as I was/am, (all those early mornings, all that speed, all the family sacrifice), I have a lot of take-aways that are leaving me feeling pretty positive.

German Biergarten post race - YES

My Jenga block said it all.

First, I do feel stronger than ever. And more confident than ever in my ability to push my pace for longer distances. It wasn't too long ago (like February), that getting to mile 19 at that pace in perfect conditions was my best effort in a marathon. In fact, my 30K time yesterday of 2:47:50 was faster than my Tokyo 30K of 2:48:09, where I hit my 4:00 PR. Knowing I did that with bigger hills and crazy winds confirms this for me and gives me some peace.

Second, my mental state keeps improving. I was the most calm I have ever been in the weeks before this race. I was excited to run and test my limits. And, on race morning, I had the attitude that I was going to push as hard as I could and let the chips fall where they may. The me of prior years would have been crushed in the first couple of miles that everything wasn't perfect and would have not even tried to run on pace. I have really gotten over giving up before I start. And that has taken me a very long time.

Third, I feel like I've matured enough to know that you live to fight another day. I'm really glad I chose not to push once my PR was realistically out of reach. While the jaunt to the finish was cold and miserable, I knew it was the best thing for my body. I have a hamstring that I have to baby, and knowing this wasn't the day, I wanted to preserve myself so I can get back to running easily again. Once that thing gets injured, it can put me off track for 6 months or more. I'm not letting this training go to waste. I want to keep it up over the winter and assess when/where I want to push next year.

Last night when I crawled into bed at 11:45 after getting home, my husband was waiting for me and he actually said something to me that made me feel so good about myself. He told me he thought that my decision to take care of myself and preserve my training made me cross the line to really being an "athlete" yesterday. I was like "whaaaat?!" He said "you know, you see those elite athletes and sometimes they stop at mile 18. It's not that they can't finish. It's that they're in it for a purpose, and when it's out of reach, they stop so they can pick up again quickly and get right back to training." Obviously winning a marathon and getting a sub 4 are drastically different things, but I took his point. When the goal is out of reach, be smart, and do what it takes to get right back at it.

So. I guess that's what I'm going to have to do now. Onward. Upward.

In Hanson's I Trust, In Hanson's I Trust, In Hanson's....

I'm trying really hard to keep repeating that phrase these days. It is in reference to a training plan I'm following for the first time for my upcoming race, the Philadelphia Marathon. I decided this summer I was feeling pretty good after hitting a 1:49 half marathon PR in July, and one of my running partners had signed up for Philly, so I thought I would join her and go for my sub 4 hour marathon.

I wasn't sure after running 4:00:30 at the Tokyo Marathon in February that I'd be motivated to do all that training again to take off 31 seconds. But my girlfriend's Boston qualifying time is now 3:55 and so I thought if we could train together aiming for a 3:50 time, I would be helping a friend through most of the race get her own PR, and hopefully breaking the 4 hour mark myself - with plenty of wiggle room down the stretch.

My sister bought me the Hanson's Marathon Method, which says "Run Your Fastest Marathon!" on the cover. Hey - that's a pretty convincing statement. I was in. Why not? I've only used one other training guide for an actual time goal (rather than the generic finish programs I have used) and both times it was the 4 hour program that was xeroxed from a friend, from a magazine years ago. I like that plan...I mean...I worked...but I definitely felt up for a new challenge.

See...it says so right on the cover! It must be true!

Well 16 weeks later, I'm now firmly in "taper" mode (more on why I used quotations in a minute) and praying this actually works. It is so completely different than any program I've ever seen that I can honestly say I have absolutely no idea if I am ready for this.

Unique facets of the Hanson's method:

1. Speed early, and slightly slower speed later...but always speed
I've seen (and done) speed work as part of marathon training before, but it's usually in a chunk of the 18/20 week program. With Hanson's you start at week 6 and end in week 17, just a week before marathon week. And, the mileage is significant. With all the warm-up/cool-down activity I'm putting in 10 miles on my speed day. And have been...for weeks.

So. Much. Track.

2. Marathon pace only once mid-week and never on long runs
This is probably giving me the most anxiety. I have always attempted to run most of my runs at marathon goal pace. But this book is pretty specific as to why you should not do that. I'm buying in, as I've said, so I am strictly obeying. But only one run a week at marathon pace is messing with my head. It is between 8-10 miles, again...during a weekday.

3. Serious time commitment down the stretch with several 10-11 mile runs mid-week
See above reference to 10+ miles on speed day and "tempo" run day which are both mid-week. When you have to be running at 5:30 (or earlier) to get that kind of mileage in...it takes a toll on your energy. And I have been dragging.

4. Long runs no longer than 16 miles
At first this seemed awesome. No run longer than 16 miles? (insert laughter) Easy peasy...sign me up! But I can't help but feel like I'm missing something without my grueling 20 & 22 mile runs. How can I be ready? If I hadn't run a bunch of these before, I think this would be a big mental hurdle. Fortunately I know how it feels, and I know I can finish. But it still is nagging at me a touch.

5. Lots and lots of miles
In my prior race programs I peaked around 45-48 miles. And usually only had about 4 weeks over 40 miles per week. Well....this time I was at 39 miles in week 6. And you're well over 45 miles for the entire last 10 weeks of the program, peaking at 57 miles.

6. TINO. Taper in Name Only
By the time I hit the peak of my programs and sliding into taper mode, I'm usually swearing under my breath at the end of runs, crawling into ice baths, and just wanting the whole thing over. But this time...I've had to keep my head together because it turns out...this 3 week taper program isn't really too much of a taper. I'm "down" to 51 miles this week, with a massive drop to 49 next week. Marathon week is 50 as well (including the race). Seriously. WTH. Still doing speed and still doing long tempo runs. Still running at dark-o-clock.

7. No real flexibility
This program has you running 6 days a week. I've always done 4 or 5 day plans which work nicely for people who need flexibility for you know, life. But this time, I've had to find a way to get those runs in. Also, because of the nature of the specific workouts, you can't really play around with changing days. I tried once and it didn't turn out well (see reference to bloody ankles below)

Saying all this, I am feeling pretty strong. I'm actually surprised I've been able to handle the miles. I've hit all my time targets in the past 16 weeks, with one exception that included a hot sunny midday run with new shoes and two bloody ankles.

I'm kind of approaching this as an experiment in two ways. Can I even get close to the 3:50 finish on race day? I have no idea. But, if I can get close to the 3:50 time target with this plan...could it help me go a little further and get a BQ (sub 3:45)? That's what I'm really hoping to see come race day. I've never dedicated so much to a training cycle, and I'm curious how different it will be and whether it will light my fire to go for a BQ.

Until then, I'll be setting my alarm at a time that makes me angry, eating as many salty potatoes with ketchup I can get my hands on, obsessing over the weather forecast and silently chanting "in Hanson's I Trust."