This is wordy, possibly word vomit. Sorry in advance.
Chip time: 3:36:35
I PR’ed by 30 minutes. Awesome right? No. Not awesome. That is not what I wanted and I am being a bitter bitch about it.
I didn’t qualify. 1 minute and 35 seconds off. a fucking minute and thirty-five seconds.
Let me start at the beginning.
I woke up and was pumped. I knew I could do it. I was nervous but not freaking out. I had the most amazing people supporting me all the way through. I mean, they even got all decked out in my favorite color for me
Weather was perfect. No rain. Overcast and a cool 40. Went with shorts and around mile 10 lost my top layer and ran in a tank.
Race started and I was right on track. I kept repeating to myself “Run your race.” I didn’t want to get caught up in the hype of the downhills. I made sure to take it easy but not kill my quads. When people flew by me I ignored them and just ran my race. It was working out perfectly. Average pace mile 1-24 8:06.
My family and friends stopped to see me every few miles along the course. That was a HUGE help. Knowing they were going to be just a few miles ahead, I would tell myself to run to them.
Something bad bad bad bad bad happened at mile 13. My shot bloks were hard as a rock. I couldn’t chew them. I tried sucking on them to warm them up but they were too big. I had no fuel after mile 13.
I started getting a little light headed around mile 20. I made sure to take the Gatorade at every water stop rather than the water. I knew I needed something and thought that might do the trick.
I had a friend meet me at mile 22 and help pace me till the end. I just couldn’t do it. My last 3 miles were horrible. I couldn’t see straight. My right quad felt like someone just dead legged me. I was getting delirious.
I ran my heart out. I ran the best race I could. The last 1/4 mile was a slight downhill and I did, what felt like, a sprint to the finish. I knew at the top of the hill I didn’t make it but I still gave it my all anyway. Granted my “all” was a 9:15 mile, I still ran as hard as I physically could.
I crossed the finished and was out of it. The medical personnel came over to help me from falling over. They brought a chair to me and I plopped in it and tried to get my bearings together. I bonked.
“In endurance sports such as cycling and running, hitting the wall or the bonk describes a condition caused by the depletion of glycogen stores in the liver and muscles, which manifests itself by sudden fatigue and loss of energy.
I never experienced that before. I have been to a bunch of races and seen athletes fall at the finish, ghost white and just completely out of it. I never wanted to know what that was like….but I found out.
I said I wanted to run this race and give it my all. I did that. I ran with every ounce of being I had. I tried hard. I was mentally and physically as strong as I could be.
I am pissed about not qualifying. I feel like a failure, like a loser. I am embarrassed.
YES, I PR’ed by 30 minutes
YES, I ran a stellar 24 miles
YES, I ran a friggin 3:36 marathon and I should be SO SO proud of all those things
and I will be….with time.
right now I am going to be a big baby about it though. Snot bubbles and all, I am giving it time to sink in.
To steamtown race coordinators. Maybe, possibly next year you can have a few more clocks and not JUST at mile 18? Or how about handing out gu or gels or something on the course. I know that if there was some sort of fuel on the course I would have taken full advantage. You are hosting a MARATHON, not a 5K. It’s serious shit running 26.2 miles. Yes, you have hosted this race a bunch of other times but maybe you can consider fuel along the course?