Race Recap: The Marathon that Could Have Been
It’s been one week since my first 26.2 miles. While the toe blisters have healed and my busted toe nail has fallen off, my pride is still mending. I didn’t get to the Arizona Marathon Start Line full of confidence and excitement. I knew I had failed myself in training. I didn’t train. I have this issue with self-destruction. When I start to get good at something I stop just shy of success. I was much more successful at my first half marathon than I had ever imagined I would be, so then of course I had a few mess ups for my second. Knowing I could have done better I decided to sign up for my first marathon.
I signed up nine months in advance. I found the perfect nine month training guide online. Being the numbers nerd I am, I even got excited when I realized that I would be 26 years and 2 months old while running 26.2 miles. My bib number started with 65. All signs pointed to awesomeness for my first marathon! But I failed myself. What resulted is exactly what one would expect when someone tries to run a marathon without serious preparation. Although I guess it could have been much worst.
The night before my amazing husband made sure I soaked in a hot bath and stretched out my arms and legs. He made wonderful pasta for dinner and made sure I was stress free for the next day.
The day started at 5AM. I was so nervous trying to convince myself that I was going to be able to complete the marathon in 5 hours (an hour later than the original 4 hour goal) I threw up. Everything was smooth as I headed to the start line. Found a porta potty with no line, dropped off my bag at the UPS truck, found my 5 hour pace group. The group leaders seemed cool. Up to mile 3 everything was great. Then I felt a little congestion in my head and freaked out. (I had managed to catch a cold the week of the race.) I stopped running, biggest mistake ever to stop so soon into the race. I then proceeded to attempt to follow an older couple that was doing walking/running increments. That was going great until they took a bathroom break. I found another couple around my age but they kept stopping for too long to take pictures and goof off. They seemed to be having fun but I didn’t have time for that.
I grew more and more discouraged as I realized my pace was slowing down with each mile. Passing mile 13 at 3hrs was a huge blow to my confidence. I’d never ran a half that slow, but it made perfect sense seeing as I was walking more than running. All I could think about was getting to Mark and our church which were waiting for me at mile 22. Instead of those thoughts pushing me to run more/faster I let the idea that I still had 9 more miles to get there tear me up.
Around mile 16 and 17 a lot of people started passing me up. A lot of people who should never have passed me up. I saw that goof-off couple pass, the couple I stalked until their bathroom break, an old man who couldn’t even stand up straight but was booking the run with a weird shuffle, a one-legged man… more old people. It was depressing. Mile 20 got worst when a girl I’d passed earlier with a shirt that said “Slow and Steady. I’ll finish this race” ended up passing me. Her shirt had a tortoise on the back. Guess that made me the hare. I was done. The tears started. My right small toe was finished. I couldn’t run anymore. Well I probably could have sucked it up and ran but I convinced myself it was too painful. (For the record, the toe nail did fall off that toe.)
When I finally made it to mile 22 and saw Mark I just broke down in tears. I couldn’t make them stop. I begged him to walk the last 4 miles with me and that wonderful man did. In his chucks with his poor flat feet, he walked 4 miles.
Mile 25 was one block from our apartment and I begged Mark to let me go home. Seems so silly now but I was so embarrassed with the time I had taken. I swore that I would never do another marathon. I cried “I don’t need this! It proves nothing for me!” But in reality it means so much.
I don't hide my emotions well and Mark caught them.
I crossed the finish line with some very nice women. They congratulated me on finishing my first marathon. I did “run” the last little distance. Got the medal and photos done, but the smiles were fake. I was so disappointed in myself.
After letting my pride mend a bit, by the end of the day I knew I was going to have to do that again. I have to redeem myself and stop being afraid of accomplishing great things. There will be another marathon in my future. Maybe not this year but some time soon.
Maybe one day I’ll give Sally Meyerhoff a run for her money… or maybe not. She’s a beast and was done before I crossed 13 miles.
Monica, I am so proud of your accomplishments, on the other hand, I am getting emotional because I miss you. (can’t wait to see you in March) I also know your in good hands with Allstate and a “good man”. Luv ya!!!
You and your Allstate.:P love and miss you too momma! Just a few more weeks!
Congrats & Nice recap!! I feel ya though…its tough & I wanted to do so much better. So I tried again and well did worse on my second than my first marathon. I decided in October to just run the half this year & enjoy myself and have fun. Maybe I will try a full again when I can find me some running partners!