Marathon weekend

Marathon #7, check.

Happy moments? Yes.

Sad moment? Yes.

Tears? Always.

Oath never to run another marathon? Duh.

So I didn't run all week, per The Oath, and I didn't miss it. There's something about the marathon that makes you say, "Nah. I'm good." But then you get The Itch and hit the pavement soon enough. I have yet to feel that itch, but I am going to run this week, just to remember what it feels like to run without a training plan/deadline in mind. I'm not even going to wear my watch. It's always a good way for me to recharge and remind myself that I do it because I love it. I really, really do. But the marathon is too far to run, I promise.

This last one, however, was the best one so far. Not just because it was my fastest, but everything came together perfectly: weather, health, effort, playlist, finish. I've run two marathons while sick, one in the heat, three within a year of having a baby, etc. Anyway, this was a good year at the ol' STG, and this is the detailed version:

Kaelee, Heather, and I went to the expo first thing in the morning with Dax and Rocco in tow. I kind of hate it. We have to go to get our packets with our race bibs, but the rest of it is kind of blah now. I dislike fighting crowds anyway, but add Dax and a stroller, and forget about it. I did end up with a cute purple shirt that says "runner girl" on it, but I was very happy to leave. I spent the day getting my stuff ready and just chilling with my kids. I really focused on water intake all day. I had some spaghetti and veggies for dinner, and we met at Heather's at 8:00. Heather and Casey parked at the finish line and then hopped in my van for the drive up to Central. Aunt LouAnn and Uncle Ray are the best of hosts every year, letting us stay at their house mere steps from the starting line. We got our giggles out, went to bed, and slept quite restlessly the whole night. I think I only got up to use the bathroom twice, though. It's usually four times.

We set our alarm for 5:45, got ready, ate half a bagel and a banana, and trotted down to the start. There was a super cold wind, which ended up being a nice tailwind the first several miles, but before warming up, it was brutal. I kept saying, "A cold starting line makes for a perfect finish line." Which is almost always true. Our start delay was seven and a half minutes (the race started, then it took that long before we crossed the starting line--that's how many thousands of people run it). I wore a wide-necked hoodie for the first few miles, then I ditched it but kept my gloves on. I started nice and easy because starting too fast has never once worked out for me, but we got into a good pace and I felt great. The four of us ran together for the first four or five miles, then Heather and I pulled ahead till she took off up the Veyo hill and beyond. I thought that was the last I saw of her because she was going pretty fast.

From there, my only race partners were the ones in my head saying things like Keep this pace, Your IT band doesn't hurt, You do not have to pee, You're a finisher, Don't slow down--push through the pain till it gets easier again, Your hands are not cold, Look at that beautiful view, This is perfect race weather, I love this song! . . . You get it. I decided to run with a water bottle for the first time so I could save stoppage time, which ended saving me a lot, I think. Good choice. I also carried three Hammer Gels in the apple cinnamon variety and some salt pills. I took the gels at miles 6, 13, and 19 or 20, and the salt pills just before the start, and at the 1/3 and 2/3 points of the race. I ditched my gloves at mile 13, then of course got water dumped on my hands at the next aid station, and my hands froze for the next several miles.

After the first half, a lot of my brain power was spent doing math. I'd recalculate every mile to see how far behind the 3:35 race pace I was. I gained ground on it with every passing mile, so by the time I hit mile 18 and realized I had to do a sub-8:00 pace the last eight miles in order to do it, I got my game face on and went for it. I knew I had it in me. Finishing strong is one of my greatest strengths, but I had been keeping a pretty good pace, so I hadn't "saved" as much in the tank. This was going to be hard.

Naturally, mile 19 is at the Ledges climb, so even pushing it, I did an 8:18 pace. Then all the severe downhills begin, which is simply murder on the quads. If I hadn't been wincing with every step, those miles would have been a breeze because the rest of me felt fine. Note to self: strengthen quads. So I'm plowing through, and I finally see Heather around mile 24. I really didn't think I would catch her, so I was surprised. When I caught her about a half mile later, I just tapped her shoulder and smiled, because that's all the energy I could spare. Literally. I was giving it everything I had to keep the pace, and I knew it was still going to come down to the wire. I thought it was going to be great to finish with Heather at such a huge PR for both of us, but then another half mile or so later, she told me I was going to have to leave her because she couldn't keep that pace. I said, "No! Go with me! Push through!" but she was already falling behind. I thought at that point that she knew how close we were to qualifying for the Boston marathon, but I found out after the race that she thought our qualifying time was five minutes faster, so she thought we'd missed it already. Sad.

I would never have left her on a normal day to beat her by mere seconds, but I knew I couldn't slow down or I'd miss qualifying, so I kept pushing. I rounded the last corner and saw the finish line balloons at what looked like approximately 25 miles away, and I felt so nauseated and so faint that I knew if I pushed it any harder, I would not be crossing that finish line without puking or passing out first. And I could not spare those seconds. So I kept the pace, Matt jogged alongside me for a sec with words of encouragement, not knowing that inside my head I was screaming, "Matt! You have to push me in! I'm going to miss BQ by a few seconds!" I literally could not speak. Through the haze, I saw my amazing family cheering for me on the left, then I found some superhuman strength and "sprinted" the last bit to that blessed finish line.

I immediately looked down at my watch. It said 3:35:14. I knew the official clock wouldn't be more than a few seconds off of that, so I started making this ghastly noise that was supposed to be a cry but sounded more like I was hyperventilating, I'm sure. I staggered through the misters--not to be confused with Mr.'s--received my hard-earned medal, and walked through the chute, grabbing some water and chocolate milk. I waited for Heather for a few minutes, through my sobs, and this poor volunteer approached me quite hesitantly, asking, "Are you gonna be okay?" To which I spewed in about three seconds flat, "Yeah I'm looking for my sister and I just missed qualifying for Boston by 15 seconds." He felt sad for me, bless his heart, and I started hobbling away to save face. I never saw Heather, so I got some bread for me, popsicles for my kids, and left the runners' area to find my family. I wish I had video of myself at this point. I was a hot mess. I could barely walk, I was carrying an armful of food and drink, and I was crying as if someone had just insulted my momma. Then I dropped a popsicle, which was the deciding factor in where I was going to sit and wait. I knew that bending over to pick up that popsicle would kill me, so I just dropped to the ground right then and there. And I cried. And I tried to drink something. And I scanned the crowds over and over again, wondering why I still hadn't seen a familiar face.

Meanwhile, Kaelee had finished, and she found me, so we sat and wallowed together. Then suddenly we see our entire group mere steps away, so we tried, and failed, to get up and move to them. It happened eventually, and we had the regular post-race powwow: Leif brought me flowers and Mountain Dew, Paige wore my medal, and Dax was so tired and grumpy he didn't know what to do with himself. We took pictures. We talked about the race in a frenzied fashion. It has become quite the pastime. Other "fans" who came: Matt and girls, Nicole and Callin, Bernan and roommate Kaylyn. I'm telling you, you love nobody more than people who come to cheer for you at a marathon. They're fantastic.

The rest of the day:

We went to my mom's to pick up Gavin, who had stayed in Hurricane for a soccer game, then I went home for the afternoon. I did an ice bath, I showered, I watched the afternoon session of LDS general conference, I slept but only for a minute. Then Kaelee, Heather, and I went to Marv's for dinner, then drove back up to Central to pick up my van. It took about three days before I started to feel like I would walk normally again. The only exercise I did all week was a P90X core workout on Friday, but I have this dumb shoulder injury that inhibited its use for a lot of it. I need to give it a good rest before I start back in with anything strenuous. My body still felt fatigued from the Saturday before.

In case you're wondering, at the end of all this, this is my last marathon recap . . . no really, it is . . . 

Also, in case you're wondering twofold, I really was happy with my finish time despite all the aforementioned crying. I had a 19-minute PR (personal record), which is huge, and I gave 100% of my effort. Don't let silly phrases let you think I didn't give it my all because I didn't say 110%, because that's not a thing. 100%. I'm happy.

*I know this is totally lame without pictures, but I don't have any. I'll raid Heather's camera soon.