The Rockford Torture, I mean Marathon

This past weekend was our 3rd marathon in an 8 month time span.  A year ago, I rolled my ankle and was in a walking boot for 6 weeks.  I had to do two months of physical therapy.  So, in some ways, I'm amazed at how quickly I recovered from that injury and that I've been able to do any distance running.  When the frustration at how poorly this past weekend's marathon went, I remembered where I was a year ago, in a walking boot not sure when I'd be running again and I regained some perspective.

We spent last summer churning out 40 miles a week and doing our long runs in hot, humid weather.  It was hard training in that weather, but the silver lining was that we were then treated to two marathons with ideal running temperatures.  The Chicago marathon consisted of 40 and 50 degree weather---perfect for running.  Our second marathon was just two months later in Memphis and was slightly warmer, but still great for running.  So great that both Jon & I were able to improve our marathon times by 8-15 minutes each.

Back in December, I was still under the influence of my runner's high from completing the Memphis marathon with a better time and easier recovery than Chicago, so I talked Jon into doing the Rockford Marathon in May (I'm always the one hatching plans for our goals and Jon usually goes along with them).    There were so many reasons to do it.  First, I wanted to try training in cooler weather (January through May in Chicago is cold).  Secondly, it was cheap.  I mean dirt cheap for a marathon.  $45 a person if we signed up by New Year's Eve.  Lastly, we had already done two marathons and it would be easy to train for a 3rd just a few months later, right? Famous last words.

I had no idea when I signed us up in December that by the end of January, I would be pursuing a part-time job at church that would start taking up more and more of my free-time and energy.  Its a good thing, but as a mom of four little ones who are still home during the day, I have limited "free time" so if I could have gone back and not signed up for the Rockford marathon, I would have.

However, you can't go back in time and change your actions, so I decided to just plod on.  I'd run as much as I could and try my best.  I did all my long runs, but my training was lacking in overall mileage but what turns out to have been the hardest part of this marathon for me was the heat.  I just hadn't trained in heat as we had a very long winter and a very cool Spring here in Chicagoland.

On Marathon Day, the start line temps were 68 degrees with a high of 87 for the day and lots of humidity.  I readjusted my goals.  No real time goal, just try to finish without throwing up or getting hurt.  Also, I should admit when I say "no real time goal" I mean that I'm not going to try to beat my previous times, but I'm not going to be happy if its slower, especially not a LOT slower than my previous marathon times.  I just can't run without some time goal.

Jon & I started off running together and were keeping a solid 9:50-10 min pace.  By 7 miles though, Jon didn't want to go at this speed and let me go on without him.  I spent the next 9 miles with the 9:55 pace group and all seemed to be going well.  Around 16 miles, I let them go and slowed down a bit myself.  I was stopping at every water stop to do water and gatorade.  I thought I was being smart.  It was getting so hot though.  At one point, I saw a ziploc bag of ice on the ground that someone had carelessly discarded.  I didn't even hesitate, I bent down and scooped it up.  I started putting the ice cubes down my back to cool myself off.  I figured it was a bit sketch to actually chew the ice since I have no idea of its origins.

During the 16-20 miles of the course, there were several parts where you'd pass runners going faster and slower than you.  I kept hoping that I'd see Jon as I was starting to lose it mentally.  There weren't any spectators on the course (other than people handing out water) or the occasional person cheering on a specific loved one, so my thoughts were getting to me.  Around 19 miles, I saw a wife give her husband a frozen washcloth that he was using to towel off.  He was struggling.  About 30 seconds later, I felt her tap me.  I must have looked bad because she ran after me and handed me a washcloth too.  I was grateful because it provided some nice relief and I wore it on my neck/shoulders while I ran.

By 20 miles, I was getting discouraged.  I did some short walking breaks to let my legs recover.  Next thing I see is the 9:55 pacer come out of a porti-pot.  He had abandoned his post as pacing the runners to finish in 4:20 (a 9:55 pace) because he was getting light-headed and dizzy.  It was not encouraging to me to see an experienced runner giving up running with a 10k left to go, especially one who was suppose to be leading other runners to their goal.  While we were walking, we saw an ambulance pick up another runner who was even more done.

I ran the next mile and did some run/walking, but a little after 21 miles, both of my legs started to seize up.  I let myself walk and about half a mile later, Jon caught up to me.  He was surprised to see me.  I must have looked terrible because he immediately stopped running (he had been doing a combo of running and walking and overall was doing pretty well).  He wasn't going to break any records, but he would have definitely finished in a reasonable amount of time and under 5 hours.

We walked for a while.  I was in so much pain.  Both of my legs (calves, quads, feet) were so tight.  I started getting side stitches.  After a while, I tried to jog but immediately felt sick to my stomach.  So I called it quits with the attempts to run or jog.  We walked the last 5 miles in.  It took forever.  I never knew that walking could be so painful.  I have a whole new respect for people who finish marathons and walk much earlier in the 26.2 miles.  I would have much preferred being able to run, even at a slow pace, just to get done sooner.  If I could have willed my body to run, I would have, but I couldn't.

We crossed the finish line at 5 hours and 23 minutes.  It was a full hour slower than my last marathon time, so  I was discouraged with my performance.  This was a small marathon and there were about 5 spectators at the finish line and only a handful of other people finishing the marathon itself (there were only 200 runners doing the full marathon) so crossing the finish line was pretty anti-climactic.  At the time, I was just so glad to be done. 

When I got home and saw that it took me an hour and 50 minutes to finish those last 6.2 miles, I was annoyed.  The goal-oriented, perfection-seeking part of me feels like it wasn't a worthwhile endeavor because I was slower, had pain and wasn't able to run the entire race, but then I think about how much harder this race was for me physically than other ones and I am proud of finishing.  There are so many definitions to running a race well.  It could mean setting a new personal record time.  It could mean that you don't walk at all.  It could be that you run in the same amount of time as before but that its easier on your body or that you recover faster.  Or, perhaps (like in this case) it just means that you finished the distance.  It might have been ugly (it was), hot (it definitely was) and painful (yep!) but I did it.  I finished. 

Before this race, I was planning to take a break from marathon running for the rest of the year.  During the painful last few miles, I told Jon I was definitely sticking to that and perhaps this would be my last marathon EVER.  Now that the pain has worn off and I can walk without limping, I know that won't be my last marathon.  I can't end on that note, but I am going to stick with my plan of waiting until at least 2014.

Instead of following a rigid training schedule this summer, I'm going to run for fun.  I'm going to run however far I feel like that day.  I'm going to run at whatever pace feels comfortable to me or the person I'm running with at the time.  I'm going to go back to where I started with my running and rediscover why I loved it.  I'm going to run with my ipod and without it.  I'm going to run when I'm stressed instead of feeling stressed about needing to run in order to follow my training schedule.  Don't get me wrong, I love having training goals and running but in doing so many marathons in a short amount of time, I think that running morphed into a chore for me more than a pleasure or stress-relieving activity.

I've got a fresh new pair of running shoes that have been waiting for me in my closet.  I hope to break them out and hit the pavement this weekend.