Monday, October 29, 2012

Race Report: 2012 Marine Corps Marathon

After months and months of training, the big day finally came and went.  I spent most of last week doing everything that I could to prepare myself for the race.  I took off most of the week from work so that I could get some extra sleep and on Thursday I went out to the race expo.  I was shocked at how many people were there, especially since it was normal work hours and before most of the out-of-towners would arrive.  Still it was fun to check out a bunch of the booths and I even got a new bright orange running shirt.
My runs during this last week were significantly shorter, so I had plenty of time to cook up some delicious food and eat extra healthy all week.  A few favorites were the French Onion Soup I made in the hand-me-down Crock-Pot from Grandma Lois, (modified) Chocolate Pumpkin Banana Muffins, and a ton of roasted butternut squash.
Plus I got to go to a lovely Pre-Race Pasta Dinner hosted by Run For Burma, and found out that I was runner-up in fundraising totals!  Thanks to everyone who donated!  The dinner was delicious, and it was a nice chance to meet some of the other runners and talk race-day specifics.  
Saturday night I stayed with Mom and Dad.  I did my best to get to bed early and actually managed to get a decent night's sleep.  Mom took me to the metro station at 6:30 and I was at the Pentagon by 7am. There was a bit of walking and a bit of waiting in lines but I must say, the Marines really know how to organize a race.  I was able to drop off a bag with sweats for after the race with the Marines that were manning the UPS trucks and then I was off to the start line.  After a long wait at the PortaJon I found the "corral" for my expected finish time just before they started at 7:55.  
The energy at the start was something else.
I've been in other races, and before yesterday I had run one other marathon in Baltimore, but it was really amazing to run a race that I've been looking forward to for nearly a year now, through streets and neighborhoods that I'm actually familiar with.  Combine that with the huge crowds, the several bands that were playing along the way, and the volunteers - mostly Marines - that were so encouraging and you get a mix that is overwhelmingly motivating.  
At the start of the race it was a bit crowded.  They stagger the start using the "corrals" so that most of the faster runners are near the front, but it still took a while for the pack to thin out a bit.  After a mile or so I was able to settle into a steady pace, but the pace that I settled for turned out to be a bit too fast.  I was running about 8:30-8:40/mile for the first ten miles.  Way too fast for me.  My goal time required a 9:00/mile pace, so I was pretty far ahead of myself.  I felt good, and the pace felt comfortable, but it wasn't sustainable.  I knew better, but I couldn't help it.  I was having a blast.  The race opened up with a series of hills in the Spout Run/I-66 area, and at the start of the last big hill, the Marine Corps band was just starting up with "Halls of Montezuma."  It was a big hit.
Just before the 10-mile marker, I nearly blew by my support crew.
That's me in the gray top, pink sneakers.
Mom brought some big helium ballons so I could spot them,
Not obvious enough!
It was actually Mom that spotted me and hollered my name just in time.  I grabbed a pre-packed goodie bag with pretzels and my salt pill and kept moving.
GIMME!
And GONE!
I just love how happy Momma Bear looks in this picture.
For the next big chunk I found a rhythm that was still a bit fast but definitely more manageable.  I ran a steady 8:45-8:50/mile pace up until mile 17 or so when I passed my crew again.  By that point the hurt was just starting to creep in, and I could tell by the looks on Mom and particularly Dad's face that I didn't look quite as hot as I did at mile 10.
Waiting for me at mile 17...
The look on his face says "So much for that 8:40 pace..."
I feel great!  Really!
Still I brushed it off, and told myself that in 10 miles I'd be enjoying a beer at the finish festival, as long as I just kept moving.  The next three or four miles were slower, but I felt okay.  I went by the monuments, had my picture taken by the paparazzi - I mean race photographers - and passed by Mom and Becka again.  Dad missed me in his effort to get a "better" look.
Oh yeah.  I got lei'd by a random supporter somewhere around mile 18.
Becka was ready with the camera.  Mom was caught off guard and didn't really see me coming.
"Erin! Come back! I didn't get your picture!"  Seriously, Mom?  She actually said that.  
At that point I knew I only had about an hour of running to go, but I reminded myself of the saying that's used by a lot of running coaches that the first half of a marathon is 20 miles, and the second half is 6.2 miles.  Boy, was that saying true for me yesterday.
I was dog tired by mile 21.  I had slowed to about a 10:00/mile pace and was frantically checking my watch to make sure I didn't lose the gap between my actual time and my goal time.  I honestly can't remember much from the last 5 or 6 miles.  I went through just about every disassociating strategy that I know of, doing math problems to think about how much was left, thinking about the different people that had donated to my fundraising efforts, planning the feast that I would be enjoying for the rest of the afternoon, basically trying to think about anything except for the pain that was coursing through my legs.  (Luckily it really was just my legs.  My muscles were super sore, but other than that I felt great.)   I saw the hill just before the finish line and actually found some strength in forcing myself to power through it.  I picked up my pace a tiny bit on that hill and made my way through the finishers tunnel.
Almost there...
...annnnnd done.
I finished at 3:55:39.  (My goal was under four hours, or to beat Sarah Palin's time of 3:59:36.)  I saw Mom, Dad, and Becka in the crowd almost right away and the tears pricked.  By the time I had been funneled along to the gates where we were medaled by the Marines I was pretty emotional, and I was overcome by the hurt that I felt all over.  Somehow my mind was able to trick itself into believing that I was not really hurting at all until I had crossed the finish line and started walking.  And then it hit me like a ton of bricks.  I realized that I had hurt my foot pretty bad and I limped along as the Marines handed me all sorts of post-race goodies.  By the time I was past the gate that separated the crowd from the runners I had lost track of my crew and went to claim my bag so I could call them up.  
When I met up with my mom and Becka, mom was all worried because I "looked pale."  I felt like crap too, but couldn't bring myself to eat much of anything for another hour or so.  So much for that free beer.  We went to Chipotle's and I had about a bite of my burrito before I gave up and put my head down on the table.
Feeling great.  Looking great.
"Erin! Could you at least try to smile?!"
Then I asked if we could wait outside (while dad got the car) because I was worried I might get sick.  I didn't.
It was pretty windy by that point so I found a corner to cuddle up with my burrito.
Once we were home, mom did what she does best.  She babied me all afternoon.  She drew me a bath, gave me some clean, dry sweats to change into and fed me and fed me and fed me until I couldn't eat any more.  (Still I insisted that Becka and I stop at a Burger King on the way home.  Give me a break, I earned it!)  
In the end I couldn't be happier with how things turned out.  I met my mark.  I didn't sustain any (serious) injuries.  I ate a ton of food.  I set a reminder in my phone for 2013 registration.  

I want to thank everyone (again) who contributed to Run For Burma and helped me to meet my fundraising goal.  I couldn't have run this race without your support, and it really helped me to get through some of those tough miles towards the end.  This has been a truly incredible journey in so many ways.  I'm sure it wont be my last.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Baltimore!

Two weeks until the big day!  Tomorrow I will start to taper, and this past week I did my last very long run before the race.
I made a first shot at it on Tuesday and literally got scared off the trails by a pack of deer.  Most close friends and family already know this unfortunate detail about me: I am absolutely terrified by deer.  Some people are scared of spiders or snakes or clowns.  I'm scared of deer.  When I see them while driving I usually have to stop and collect myself before I can continue, especially if they do that creepy thing where they stand there in the middle of the road staring for a few minutes before they finally decide to bounce away (and then just when you think it's safe to continue driving their friends that were lurking in the shadows bounce across your path as well.) 
You know what I'm talking about.
Anyways, I was six miles into my run on Tuesday and feeling good.  I was heading down a trail I frequent almost daily, totally in the zone, and all of a sudden I come up on a doe.  She was right in the middle of the trail staring right at me, maybe 15 to 20 yards away.  At first I couldn't breathe.  I found myself gasping for air.  The gasps turned into little whimpers and I  shrunk to the ground in kind of a squat, and started to cry.  She stood there staring at me for a minute or so before she bounced over some brush into the woods, and it wasn't until then that I realized there were 5 or 6 more deer in the brush on either side of the trail.  They all took off as soon as she jumped, and I stayed there for a few more minutes, nervous that another one would come galloping at me from out of nowhere.  Up until that point I was feeling strong, fast, and unstoppable, but when I finally got up from my pathetic crouch, I was still struggling to breathe normally, I was still crying, and I knew I was done for the day.  I walked the mile back to my house, still feeling rattled even when I got home.  According to a friend of mine, it's mating season, and I should expect to see them on the trails with some regularity.  Great.  The next day I made another attempt at the 20 miler.  I didn't see any beasts while I was out, and I did okay, but still the wheels sort of fell off at mile 19.  My legs just couldn't take any more.  I walked the last mile, not really feeling all that disappointed since I had run about 34 miles in 3 days.  Since I usually rest after my long runs, I had ended up doing an extra six miles the day I ran up on the deer.
Yesterday I decided to drive up to Baltimore for the Baltimore Running Festival. Before yesterday I had never been to a race as a spectator, and I really enjoyed the experience.  This race in particular was the first marathon I ran back in 2010, and this year my friend Laura was running in the half-marathon.  It was her first race at that distance, so I figured I'd go cheer her on and see the race from the other side of the tape.  It was exhilarating to relive the experience of finishing my first marathon, and to be there to support my friend as she finished her first half.  At the finish line I saw more than a few runners getting misty-eyed and I remembered how emotional I felt when I finished the race myself.  I had started crying as soon as I saw the tunnel at the finish line and when I finally found my dad after the race, he saw that I had been crying and got so worried.  Right away he started asking if I was hurt, what was wrong, why I was crying, and I couldn't find the words to explain.  I was overcome with so many different emotions that I hadn't really prepared myself to experience.  I was sad that it was over, proud that I had finished, thrilled to be done, and anxious to be able to go home and rest.  Plus my stomach was in knots from both the mental and physical aspects of the race.  This doesn't begin to sum up the sensational whirlwind that had consumed me that day.  At yesterday's race, I could see the bewilderment on the faces of some of the runners, especially the obvious first-timers, and it was a welcome reminder of the experience that I had two years ago.
The only disappointing from yesterday's race was that I was so in the moment that I forgot to take a single picture the entire time I was there.  Doh!  Luckily, Laura's dad was running with her and took this when I first spotted them by the lake:
Some comic relief for struggling runners.
I also had a less offensive message on the reverse side for when the kiddos were around:
Lots of runners smiled at me or proudly thanked me when I had it flipped to this side.
After I had my fill of post-race excitement I decided to head over to the Lexington Market to get a taste of what Baltimore does best.  
Tastes like Maryland.
I love love love any kind of open market atmosphere, and to put crabcakes and Natty Boh on top of that was the perfect end to a splendid trip.  Maybe next year I'll enjoy some crabcakes as a finisher, although I don't know if I could afford the amount of crabcakes it would take to fill me up after running 26 miles.