Glass City Marathon Part 2 - Breaking 4 Hours

Hearing a great song before a marathon can't erase inflamed muscles or missed weeks of training, as I wrote in Part 1 of my race recap. So I can't pretend that I knew when I heard "Born to Run" twice the night before I ran the Glass City Marathon that I was going to have a pretty big PR. But, it did make me think about how much I love to do this. And that maybe I shouldn't be so quick to rule myself out.

I pounced out of bed pretty quickly at 5am, even though I only managed about 4 1/2 hours of sleep. I still had about 30 minutes of driving to do, so my plan was to get out of the hotel by 5:30 and be at the expo around 6am - one hour before the start. In 17 marathons, I have never showed up for my bib on race day and I will tell you - I'm not likely to do that again. I was a bit of a mess. I was grabbing my fuel out of my overnight bag, dopping it all over the place by my minivan in the parking ramp. I was getting flustered and starting to look at the clock. Thank goodness the University of Toledo campus is pretty small (but really quite lovely) so I was able to get in and out quickly and get to the start line with 30 minutes to use the port-o-potties.

It was my favorite running temperature. Low 40s. It was going to rise up to mid-upper 50s and there was not a cloud in the sky. I was thankful for the early start - so the sun would be low in the sky for the vast majority of the race. I found the 3:50 pacer and wiggled my way next to him. He was with the 1:55 half marathon pacer, and I realized in short order that we were all running together until the 9 mile marker. The marathon relay was also running alongside the full marathon. Typically I don't really like this, because when you're at like, mile 19 and a relay runner hops in fresh as a daisy running next to you - it can be reallllly irritating. But it worked in this race. It actually made the course come alive. The spectators were great for having such a small full marathon cohort. There is no doubt the half and relay racers and their fans made the difference. This has the feel of a much larger marathon, which I like.

The first several miles were uneventful. I was running comfortably, enjoying the scenery. It was a pretty course - past some beautiful historic homes and on the city's wide paved trail system. I met a guy named Kevin, from Toledo, who had run this race 3 times before. He talked to me about the course and we chatted about our prior races and PRs. He was very calm and running smooth and easy. I think I synced right up with him - I felt like our pace was a breeze. I was feeling great.

Shortly before the halfway point he smirked at me "you're totally going to break 4 hours today." I didn't really think about my response, I just said "well, we'll see how I hold up. But, who knows maybe today is my day." I could feel my confidence growing, but trying not to get too confident because there was still a long way to go. We crossed the half point right on target and kept cruising toward the 30K mark, which was now my focus. In my past races, I have struggled to keep pace in the second half. Since I was feeling good - I really wanted to get that 30K PR and boost my confidence that I had made some strides. I still half wondered if my body was going to hold up, but I was close enough that I was going to push to that point at a minimum.

Most of the course was on a trail like this.

Around mile 16, there was a group of people cheering and the started blaring the Rocky theme song. I hadn't thought about my race in Philly all day to this point. And when I heard that song, I got a little adrenaline boost. That race caused me a lot of mental torment in the last several months. I signed up for this race to put it behind me and get the time I trained so hard for. I was 16 miles in and feeling great. That moment was when I told myself I was going to push.

At the 30K mark, I was 3 minutes ahead of my prior in-marathon best to that point (this was the first time I really looked at my watch besides a check at the half way point). I was still feeling remarkably good. We got to the 20 mile marker and again...I still felt good. It was starting to get harder, as it does, but it was typical pain - nothing more. Just a 10K to go.

I was still hanging with the pacer group through all of this, but by this point Kevin was a foot or two in front of me, so we had stopped talking. Every so often, he would peek over his shoulder, see me there, and give me a thumbs up. I really loved feeling like he was pulling me along. Right at the 23 mile marker, I felt my hamstring start to seize. Oh boy. Here it was. The moment of truth. I had a 5K to go, and I was on pace for a big PR. This is a hard place mentally in a race. You have to determine how much you still need to push vs. what will happen if you push too hard. I didn't want to cramp up and end up stopping. I thought that would ruin my flow. I thought if I stayed with the pacer group, that might happen. So I decided to slow down a little bit but try to keep them in my sight for the last 3 miles.

The exact moment I turned the last corner and saw the clock at the finish line up ahead

Now I started looking at my watch. Mile 24 - 9:14. This was about 20-25 seconds slower than I had been running, but helped my leg. It was starting to really hurt, but the seizing stopped. I could still see my pacer group. The adrenaline brought me up to 9:10 for mile 25. At this point, I passed a group of women who were playing Salt-n-Pepa "Push It" and I threw my hands up and wiggled my hips, and they gave me cold water and a huge send off for the last mile. At this point, I had it. I knew I had it. And now, I didn't want to slow down. I pushed up closer to a 9 minute pace again as I headed in toward the finish chute. When I saw the clock, I cried for about 3 seconds in disbelief, then it was pure joy. It felt like a dream. It happened. I didn't hang on, and just break 4 hours...I really ran the pace I trained for (twice), and ended up with a 3:53:11 marathon PR. Over 7 minutes off my time in Tokyo last year.

Absolute Joy

Walking through the baggage claim and food area, I felt amazing. I never needed to sit down and I didn't feel light headed, which has happened to me many times before. I have thought for the last several days about what was different and I can't exactly say. I definitely had less pressure on myself, but beyond that it was a nice day and course. And, even though I botched this training program - it was my second time through it so I guess you could say I really had been training for this pace since last August.

As for this specific race, I would put it high on a runner's list. They have some amazing swag and the course if fast and flat with a surprising amount of crowd support. They also have lots of perks for first time marathoners, which I thought was very cool.

The medal is HUGE!!!!

As for me...I've been basking a bit in the happiness of achieving a goal that I didn't expect on that day. The very night I got home, my husband started encouraging me to set my sights on a Boston qualifying time. I'm 8 minutes away. I shrugged and told him this was good enough right now, and I just didn't know if I could shave another chunk that big. But, he told me something I've come to know as truth - I can do it. There was a time many, many years ago I wanted to finish a marathon. Then break 5 hours, then 4:30, then 4:15, and finally 4:00. It has taken me many years, through varying life stages and training plans, but I've gotten there.

If you're reading this and considering running a marathon, or you're only done a few, or already done many, and wonder if you can ever reach a certain time goal, let me reassure you. It may not happen overnight, but you can get there if you want to. But you need to commit to the "want."

Cheers to the start of running season! I'm doing some physical therapy, cross training and thinking. Thinking about whether I'm ready to "want" a BQ....

Solitary Confinement: A botched training program, an injury and mental anguish leading up to my best marathon

I'm a chatty person. So when I am quiet - it's certainly a sign that I'm struggling in some way. My blogging hiatus has been a product of this. I have had so many thoughts swirling in my mind the last few months, I just couldn't manage to put them in a clear, communicative pattern. I apologize for that - I've had people ask me many questions about marathoning lately and I planned to blog on certain topics. But I just needed to retreat into myself for a while.

Last November I had an extremely disappointing marathon in Philadelphia, after training the hardest I ever had - aiming to solidly break 4 hours. Immediately afterward, I went into fighter mode. I hate missing goals and the disappointment that comes with it. Lucky for me - there was another goal right around the corner. My running friends and I had a goal of running 6000 miles in 2016, but the week after running Philly our team record keeper suggested that we had a good attempt, but weren't going to make it. One of our friends had been out of commission basically right after we set the goal - so we had to make up for most of her miles among us. I couldn't wrap my brain around another failed outcome. I texted them and encouraged everyone to push - that we could do it...we WOULD do it. To my surprise - everyone jumped in. Everyone put in extra miles and we hit 6000 miles running together the week before New Years - and celebrated with a delightful brunch. It was so fun and rewarding.

Our crew. I can't imagine my life without these women!

Unfortunately, pushing myself almost immediately post-marathon caused that hamstring and piriformis to start flaring. So, while I loved the challenge, it really wasn't great for me physically. And, now...I had to start training again. Because another little thing I did in my anger post-Philly was sign up for a spring marathon. I started regretting this very shortly after signing up. In January, during one of my every-six-week Dr visits, I conceded to go to physical therapy to address this lingering injury. The problem was - I couldn't get in until mid-April. Three days before that spring marathon. So, I decided just to train as much as I could and see where it took me....

It took me to a pretty ugly place. None of my friends were training for any specific race, so I had to do my speed and tempo runs on my own. Because it was winter, and I don't run alone in the dark, this meant these workouts were being done early, in the dark, in my garage on my treadmill. Staring at a wall. For up to 11 miles each session. It was misery and my mental state was suffering. My oldest daughter was having to get ready for school on her own some days, because I wasn't done with my workouts when she was getting up at 6:40am. I was feeling guilty and questioning if I had crossed over from being a role model for the girls to being a bad mom.

I would get off this thing, a dripping sweaty mess and whisper "I hate you..."

My leg and butt were burning, and I was hating my workouts. But I was knocking them off, one at a time through February, March and April. Quietly - without really telling anyone about this coming race. My silence was two-fold. Partly because I needed to be alone with my thoughts and I just didn't want to talk about how my training was going and what I was aiming for, etc. And partly because I wasn't sure if I was going to actually go and run it. I knew I was pushing a little harder than I should and that any given week, I might realize I was over the line and abort the mission. It really was a week to week decision.

I was using Hanson's Marathon Method for the second time...and I was a little less than 6 weeks out from my race day when I started seeing Facebook posts from friends about tapering for Boston. Tapering? My race was right after Boston. I wasn't even close to tapering. My stomach sunk. I was off. I got out my book and the calendar and confirmed - instead of having 5 1/2 weeks to go, I only had 3 1/2 weeks. I thought I was entering my toughest 2 1/2 weeks of training but suddenly I had to skip them. It was another blow. I talked to my husband more earnestly about stopping my training and backing out. He encouraged me to just run it. His reasoning was that even though I might not be in my best shape, I would no doubt finish and it would be my 10th state if I ever decided to run all 50. That was compelling enough to keep me in. I decided to stick with it and just adjust my goals.

I determined that my three goals were:
1. Stick with the 3:50 pacer through the halfway point.  I had been able to get through about 10 miles each run before my injury was very painful. I was pretty confident I could manage this.
2. Pending how I felt at the halfway point, try to break my 30K (18.6 miles) time during a marathon. I reasoned that if I improved my 3rd quarter performance, that could really motivate me for the fall when hopefully I'd be healthier and in a better position to push for a PR.
3. Try to run slow versus walk when I had to back off my goal pace. This had nothing to do with a "running" goal. I was travelling to this race by myself and wanted to get back at a decent time. It was a two hour drive from my home, and I didn't want to drag this thing out!

Race weekend I was pretty calm. Saturday evening, our family went to see the symphony "Star Wars and Beyond: The Music of John Williams," something I had been anticipating for months. I didn't really think about the fact that I was going to be driving til midnight only to get up and torture myself the next day.

After the concert, I kissed my kids and husband goodbye, read a few sweet encouraging texts from my running friends, and started the drive down towards Toledo, still pretty melancholy. About 30 minutes from my hotel, I heard the song "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen on the radio. What were the odds? That song is a classic race day song that blares over speakers nationwide before runners toe the line. I got a little teary eyed. I love race day and I associate that song with all the warm and fuzzies that go along with it. Then, about 10 minutes later, I changed the channel. And it came on....again. I swear to you in this moment, something changed. It was a sign. I felt sure this was a sign.

The last few months had been rough. I didn't feel good and I screwed up my training plan for the first time ever. But that was behind me. I forgot about it all. It was almost...race day!! And baby...I was born to run.