you might want to get a drink. this was an emotional morning. this is a really long recap.
it's ok, I'll wait.
ready?
I have decided, after this morning, that I LOVE participating in hometown races. I've now run four 5k's and three half marathons close enough to home that I could sleep in, take my time with breakfast and coffee, and proceed to the start in a calm and leisurely manner. it does wonders for the pre-race nerves to not be worrying about being in this place at this time and wondering where that place even is and if there will be bathrooms and what time should I eat my breakfast? ...no drama with a local race. I love it.
I woke up to perfect race weather: cool and dry, in the high 50's, with tons of sunshine and a pleasant breeze. start time was 8:00am. lauren, a local running blogger who I've been
check out that angelic morning glow. ignore our grimaces - I swear we're much cuter in real life.
we dropped off my bag and headed to the start. I was surprised by how many runners there were - we're talking about a BIG increase since last year's race. we nudged our way to the middle of the middle of the pack (probably a terrible strategy) and before we knew it, the gun had gone off and we were underway. by which I mean, we walked until the crowd opened up, quite a ways after we had crossed the actual starting line. seriously. so many people! I had a specific time goal and so once we finally started to run, I waved good luck to monique and headed on my way.
this course is flat for two miles and then begins a steady three-mile climb. once I finally broke free of the crowds I was hitting a decent pace and feeling good. I quickly abandoned my a) go sub-1:45 and b) go sub-1:50 plans in favor of plan c) break 2 hours and don't hurt yourself doing it. I live in this neighborhood, I train on these roads. I knew exactly what to expect at every turn.
I took my first gu just after the three mile mark (which was earlier than I had planned, but I just felt like it was time), walking through the water station to wash it down. it made me slightly nauseous, but honestly I think it was completely mental; I was terrified of a boston repeat in the digestive department. I needed to focus, and not get into my head that this race was going to go badly. I tried to shake it off and took a good look around me, finding calm in seeing all the families out on blackstone boulevard cheering for the runners. one thing I can say improved over last year's race: tons more spectators! I love good crowd support. it makes the pain so much more bearable.
mile 1 - 9:22. get out of my way, massive crowd of people!
mile 2 - 8:50
mile 3 - 9:05
mile 4 - 9:15
I saw my mom and sister right around the 4.5 mile mark, at the convergence of blackstone boulevard and east ave. it was just the boost I needed before the uphill turned from gradual to mean. I was getting passed by lots of runners, but I thought to myself let them go, keep your pace steady. this hill is the same one I climb up every day at the end of my runs, heading back to my house. I had it in the bag. at the top we turned down a side street, and I felt a slight twinge in my right knee. my it band was tight after boston but with the exception of my first post-marathon run it hasn't given me much trouble to speak of. I decided to run through the pain. but then, looping back around to the main road, my right hip locked up. I don't know how to describe it. it was like no muscle spasm I've ever experienced. I couldn't pick up my leg to step up on the curb. the pain was so sudden and so staggering I thought I was going to vomit for sure. I doubled over, digging my fingers into my hip flexor, trying to massage it. it would loosen up and then as soon as I moved the leg, it locked again. I hobbled to the side of the road and tried to stretch (taking this opportunity to give my it a little tlc, too). I felt so completely hopeless in that moment. a woman ran by me and patted me on the back and said, "you can do it! keep running!" and it was all I could do to not punch her in the face. I wanted to scream "I just ran BOSTON! my legs hurt!" but I knew that no amount of pity was going to get me to the finish line. I was done. I was going to DNF the race. I looked around desperately for a race official so I could throw in the towel. I thought, I can just hobble to my house, or back down to where my mom and sister are. they'll understand. I have never wanted so much to quit anything in my life, but for some reason, I kept going. I walked along the side of the road, swearing under my breath. hobble, f-bomb. hobble, f-bomb. over and over. what were you thinking, running a race two weeks after the marathon? what were you thinking, setting ambitious time goals? what were you thinking, trying to ignore the pain in your knee back there? f-bomb, hobble. f-bomb, hobble. it wasn't pretty.
then, a flash of hot pink. I knew that becky, another local running blogger, was running with her mom and had heard from lauren on the drive over that she was wearing her big blue camelbak and hot pink compression socks. it was her! I still can't believe I did this: I started running again, pushing through indescribable pain to come up alongside becky. I pulled out my headphone and introduced myself. I met her mom (running her first half marathon! you go, girl) and fell into stride with them. the 6-mile mark flew by. we kept chatting for a few minutes before I pulled ahead of them. the pain in my hip was just...gone. inexplicably gone. my knee still hurt a little, but I managed to ease myself back into sub-10:00 pace. I knew my mom and sister would be waiting for me again at the turn back onto blackstone. I focused on making up for the time I had lost to hobbling and cursing the hip flexor gods. I wanted to look strong for my family.
that flash of hot pink stage left? becky and her mom! thanks for pulling me through the pain!
mile 5 - 9:40
mile 6 - 12:51. right leg ceases to function. what THE HELL.
mile 7 - 9:43
mile 8 - 10:57. photo break! how great is my little sister? I love it when my family comes to watch.
I took my second gu just after leaving my family. no queasiness at all = win. the next two miles were slightly downhill, and I chugged along slowly. I was sad - not angry, not frustrated, but just SO heartbroken - to be going so slowly. it seemed pointless to continue when I wasn't going to reach my goal. even though the hip pain was gone, what was the point in continuing? I was probably doing damage to my knee. I convinced myself that no one in the running universe except completely pathetic me runs their fastest half marathon as their first half marathon and then each subsequent one is slower and slower. I was a failure. I tried looking around again at the spectators to cheer myself up, but at that point I was just focused on calculating how many miles I had left and tricking myself into getting there. four more miles. you can do anything for forty minutes. three more miles. you can do anything for thirty minutes.
I remembered the physical therapist in the med tent at boston two weeks ago. she pointed to the yellow ribbon pinned to my singlet, and then to name on my shirt. "did you run today for someone deployed? for mitch?" yes to both. yes, I ran for t, who is deployed. and yes, I ran for mitch. I ran for myself. and I thought of that moment and even though I was sad to see even my do-or-die plan c goal slipping out of reach, I knew I had to finish the race. not just for t, or for my family, or to prove anything to anyone. I had to finish for myself.
mile 9 - 9:59
mile 10 - 10:15
the 10-mile mark is narragansett boat club, where I first learned to row in high school. I was a coxswain on the women's team at george washington before I transferred to brown, and in the summer between schools I started coaching beginning sweeps rowing at nbc. it felt like coming home. I kept coaching while studying at brown, adding a beginning sculls class to my roster. I later joined the master's women's team as a coxswain, and for an incredible year we won race after race after race. we raced together at the head of the charles (yeah, we didn't win that one), and I can say with certainty that the anxiety and the pride I felt during and after that race will forever trump anything I accomplish racing on foot. I couldn't wait to get up before dawn in the cold and the rain to hang out with these incredible women - many of whom are older than my mother - to start our day together on the water. after practice they traded spandex and polarfleece for pressed slacks and high heels and went off to their jobs. I went back to campus, returning before most students had awoken, to shower, eat, and study. I got some of my best work done on those mornings, feeling centered from a great workout and ready to conquer the day.
running past nbc this morning, I saw many of my old teammates standing on the side of the road, having just finishing a sunday morning row. they saw me - how they recognized me is beyond comprehension, I haven't seen them in years! - and started jumping up and down and cheering my name. after all those mornings on the water with me barking into a microphone for them to dig deep to finish an interval strong, to find their pace and hold it, there they were doing the same for me. it lit a fire under my ass. you can do anything for thirty minutes. dig deep.
mile 11 - 11:52
the first half of the eleventh mile of this course is straight uphill. it comes at the worst place in the course, when you are so close to being done but still so far from the finish. it's a long, miserable hill with no shade and sparse crowd support. there is no water station at the top. it sucks.
mile 12 - 10:44
miles 11.5-12.5 wind through india point park. say what you want about team in training and their masses of runners clogging up races (and there is too much hate for this organization out there on the internets); this mile of the race has moved me to tears two years in a row. I was expecting it this year, and I still lost it. in addition to having amazing support for their runners on the course, tnt places signs all along this mile of the race course with messages and pictures of the cancer survivors honored by their runners. it's very moving at a mentally difficult part of the course.
last year in the 13th mile, I was blacking out because I was bonking so hard. I was dizzy and confused and convinced that if I just lay down on the sidewalk for a little nap that some nice person would bring me to the finish line. I had to be escorted through the finish chute because I was so bug-eyed and confused at the finish that I dropped my medal on the ground and missed my mouth completely when I went to drink from the water bottle some nice volunteer gave me.
today was NOT going to be that day. I looked down at my watch, and here's how my deranged mind works: I saw 2:03:03 and thought, breaking my course record of 2:08 is totally feasible. right, michaela. because today is the day you break the landspeed record and come cruising to a photo finish. very funny.
mile 13 - 9:41
.13 - :57 (7:50 pace. ha!)
I did manage to drop my pace by over a minute, to 9:41, and I covered the last .13 (garmin!) miles at sub-8:00 pace. I am happy with the way I finished, but not as happy as I am to be finished.
I have a bone to pick with this race. like I said, I love running close to home. but I am not going to be satisfied with this race until I can run it well. the goal I set for 2011 was to run, and race, without suffering any training/overuse injuries. the pain in my hip is completely gone which means I can say, so far so good. I have another half marathon in three weeks and I am confident that the added recovery time between now and then will produce a more successful race than this morning's. two slow but successful races into 2011, I am itching to train to run fast. but that's for another day.
tonight I celebrated the only way I know how: with my two best fans, my mom and sister. and also an extremely large cheeseburger and a beer.
earned it. sorry I'm not sorry.
Great summary and wonderful story. I am very glad that I took the time to read this. Now I am very disappointed to have missed this race. Great job Michaela.
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