Race report

I wanted so bad to have a great race. I trained well. Worked hard. Tried to eat right. But today just wasn't my day. I should have admitted this days ago. My mind was beat up and worn done. Racing any distance- really racing- was out of the question. But I wanted to be tough. I wanted to over come my emotions and fears from this past week and accomplish what I had trained my body to accomplish. Some how I thought I would be able to do it. I was just going to run. Hard. I know my body was ready. I had proven that to myself well in training. So I found myself standing at the starting line at 7:00am, my body feeling great, and mind full of hope over racing this marathon. The first mile passed easily in 6:29. About 10 seconds fast, but that should be okay. By the time I finished mile 2, I was running at a 6:43 pace. My legs felt good. My breathing was light. But something inside me was saying, "Just stop. You don't want to do this." I tried to turn that voice off for the next 6 miles. I kept telling my body to go. This is my marathon pace, I feel great. Just Go! But that darn voice wouldn't give. A piece of me was saying to stop. "Don't make yourself uncomfortable over nothing. Racing is nothing. You want to run? Great. You wan to run a marathon? That is just silly. You want to RACE a marathon. Now that is stupid of you. Just quit now while you are still feeling great." Around mile 9 I shared my thoughts with a running buddy of mine.
"I don't want it. I just can't find my desire to make my legs go right now."
"You can always recover from that," he said. Looking down at his watch he added, "We are right on pace. Just run with me and we will be under 3hours."
I ran with him for a couple of miles. But that darn voice in my head was being awfully persistent. "God, help me do this," I pleaded. "My desire to go is gone.... I want to work with all my heart in all I do for You, Father. Give me the strength to pour myself into this now. Let me be yours above mine." But I just couldn't get myself to push.
Soon after, I saw my husband. "Would you be made at me if I quite?" I asked.
"Your doing great. Just hang in there!"
So I kept going. Mile after mile I just put one foot in front of the other and ran. Every so often I would glance at my watch, see how slow I was going, take a physical inventory, realize how great my body felt and tell myself to pick it up. But it was like I had a demon on my back. Something was sucking my will to run right out of me. "GO!!" I told my body. "Just quit. You are way off pace now," some piece said to my will. But I didn't want to quit. "Yes, you do. You don't want this," I heard in my mind. I can do this. I can run hard for the last 8 miles in still finish well. "But that would be silly. You already are too far off pace to recover. Just walk off the course. Everyone has bad days. Just quit."
Some how I didn't quit. I never could make my body go, but didn't stop trying. When I saw my husband at mile 20, he gave me words to hold on to. "Go what ever pace you want. You are almost there. You can do this." I knew he was right. There was no reason for my to walk off that course. Mentally, I was having the worst run of my life. But physically I felt great. I just had to except that I was running what I was running on this day and let go of what I wanted to have happened. When I hit mile 25 I said "Go!!" On last time to my legs. Only this time I said it out loud. Actually, I said, looking at my watch as I approached the 25th mile marker, "On your mark, get set, go!" My watch read 3:08:something. I felt silly trying to get my legs going for the last 1.2 miles of this race, but I wanted to conquer my mind. So I ran. The clock read 3:15:something as I crossed the finish line. About 7 minutes for the last 1.2 miles isn't too bad. If only I could have gotten myself to run that for the whole last half! But I felt good about having crossed that finish line. Sure my time was far from where it could have been, but that made crossing that finish line much harder. Getting a DNF would have, in some ways, felt better then finishing so far off pace. Now I officially am a "3:15 marathoner"(Not that that is bad. Just... I could run so much better.) . But I didn't let that darn voice win! It could ruin my race, but it couldn't conquer me. HA!

Today I ran my 6th Marathon. I was so excited going into my taper for this race. The goal: run under 3:00, hopefully closer to 2:54. The plan: run the first 20 miles at about 6:43 per mile and kick hard for the last 10k. I was sooooo ready for this.
The reality: today was not my day.

Last weekend I went on a retreat with a singing group I am in. It was a wonderful weekend! I woke up early, had my quite time, drank some coffee w/ soy milk, went on my short runs and got back just in time for breakfast both days. I got to spend good quality time with my female friends, and just loved the whole weekend. When I got home Sunday, I heard the news. Ryan Shay had died while running in the Men's Olympic Marathon Trials the day before. My response was complete denial. How could a young, fit runner, who just months before ran a 2:14 marathon die while racing? And when I learned he had passed so early in the race (just past mile 5), my heart sank to my feet. I was so confused. How, why?

Things got more stressful for me when I learned he had likely died because of an enlarged heart. When I was in high school, I had arrhythmias in my heart. I had a whole battery of tests run and wore a heart monitor for weeks back then. My cardiologist diagnosed my with Super Ventricular Tachycardia. A mild heart arrhythmia requiring absolutely no medical intervention at that time. But I vividly remember his words during my ECHO 12 years ago, "Your heart looks health. Strong, but big. You have an athletes heart." Red flags were going of in my mind over this. Ryan Shay died, likely because he had an enlarged heart. My heart is "..big...an athletes heart". The term athletes heart popped up several times on Google when I searched for information on Ryan Shay's death. This was not what I wanted to hear 7 days a way from racing a marathon.

I made an appointment with my doctor to discus this. In all honesty my hope was for her to tell me I was being paranoid. But she didn't. She suggested I have another ECG and we compare this one with the one I had 12 years ago. Smart lady, my doctor.

Ultimately I am glad I had tests run this past week. All the results have been very reassuring. But this week took a toll on me mentally. I just wasn't ready to pore myself into this race today. I trained well and hard. I wanted my body to just take over, but my mind was having non of that. My drive to run hard was gone. So I decided I would just run, not race. Push if I felt like it, but just run to finish. I finished in about 3:15, and place 3erd. Just putting one foot in front of the other for 26.2 miles earned me 500 dollars. Not too shabby. And I have nothing to recover from. My legs feel great, like I feel after 20 mile training runs, not after racing- even a half marathon.

I am hoping my drive to compete will come back. But for now, I have closed this chapter in my running life and am opening the next...................
Look 100k, here I come!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!