"Oh.my.God.Ouch.Terrible." (Or, 20 is never easy)
Tuesday, May 01, 2007

That's what Lance Armstrong texted to his ex-wife, Kristin, after he finished the 2006 New York marathon. It was also an incredibly fitting description of my long run this weekend.

Really, I couldn't have asked for better conditions. I made the trek up to Green Bay, location of the actual marathon, on Friday night. My sister cooked a killer meal of Italian chicken and pasta, and then we all went to bed early. Saturday morning broke sunny and in the high 50's (and would rise to the low-60's by that afternoon), and we were at the Festival Foods parking lot for the organized training run, sponsored by the local running club, at 7 a.m.

I'm sure they have these kinds of runs in other places, but was I ever impressed! A couple hundred people turned out for the run, which featured little guide-cards for the runners that described the route and hung on little clips that you could attach to your shorts or wherever, Gatorade and water stands every two miles, and bagels afterwards (I heard there were cookies, too, although those were totally gone after the 1/2 marathoners had their way with them)....oh, and even a motivational speech to kick the whole thing off (Which was, admittedly, a little weird. Something about what you must do when you find yourself in the darkest of places, etc., etc., etc. But, whatever. Each to their own.)

We headed out as a group after that. My plan was to run with my sister for at least half the run. She is great at pacing -- always has been. She's admittedly not the fastest runner, but a slow-but-steady-wins-the-race type. As anyone who's run a marathon can attest to, that's exactly the kind of runner you want to be for the first half (and quite possibly, the entire thing).

But, I was feeling good. Really, really good. I let myself run ahead. And, egged on by a stellar playlist (if I do say so myself) that I had constructed on the drive down to GB on Friday, I ran really well (for me) for the next 12 miles or so (I didn't have my new garmin on, but figure it was about a 9:30-ish average given rough calculations).

And then I tanked. Hard.

My legs were screaming-sore. My left ankle was aggravated as hell. My right lower back was whimpering. I had chub-rub under my arms and bra strap, and on my thighs. Even my toenails were hurting. I told myself to suck it up -- that everyone hurts at this distance, and that I'd hurt a lot worse at this same point after doing a 2+ mile swim and a 100+ mile bike ride before the run. This worked a bit. I started running more than walking.

During those four miles, though, I was in a pretty dark place (should've listened to the motivational pre-run speaker). I reasoned that it would be perfectly okay to not do the full marathon, and just do the half in a few weeks. I questioned why I didn't have the mental toughness to keep pushing my body even though it hurt, like so many others (most of whom were, at that time, running past me) do. And I seriously doubted my ability to undertake an Ironman if I couldn't even muster a measly 20-miler on fresh legs.

Then something happened. In the last two miles, I got a second wind. And while I didn't feel great, I inched my pace back up toward where it originally had been and finished strong.

The rest of that day, I hurt. I hurt the kind of hurt where you can't even really describe what hurts, because all the painful areas of your body meld together into one, big, hurtful glob. But by late that afternoon it was was gone, and so was the notion to skip the full marathon. May 20th, here we come!

Posted by Erin 8:42 AM

1 Comment:

1. xt4 said...
   5/03/2007 9:55 AM
   Another great experience - these are the workouts and races and experiences that will teach you more about, and get you through Ironman than any perfect race day ever will. It's all about overcoming, redefining your limits, digging deep and finding more strength than you thought you might. I called it money in the bank, to be withdrawn in September. Kickass.

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