Strike Two

Newport Marathon official results: 12/798 overall. 3/446 female, 1st in age group, 3:00:08, 6:53 pace. 

Another attempt to crack 3 hours and I just missed it again. 

A long story short: I was not feeling well early on. Side stitches plagued me off and on throughout the entire race. This time they started on my low right side and then slowly crept over to my low left. Pinching them helped, and I ran most of the race grabbing my sides. At one moment, I felt like it was all over and the three hour goal was gone, but then in the next moment, I would get a second wind and be itching to start pushing the pace. My Garmin GPS was off the whole time, so that was frustrating. I kept hitting lap to get it back on track at the mile marker splits, but the average pace per lap was not in sync with the runners around me. 

A long story long: I started behind the 3:05 group in the first half mile, then passed them and stayed behind my friend Dan. Dan's goal was to go out at 6:48-50, and I was aiming for 6:55 for the first few miles, which my watch said I was doing, but the miles marker spits reflected a slower time. The first section of the race was hillier than expected and when I caught up to Dan, he explained that the one hill we were running down (which seemed to go on forever) is the same one at the end we'd have to run up at the end of the race. With this in the back of my mind, I knew if I didn't bank a little time in the middle of the race, I may not make decent time up the hill. I was already feeling more tired than I should have been feeling and my breathing was off. 

We caught up with a chit-chatty character who was shooting for something between 3 and 3:05. He had positioned himself ahead of the 3:05 pacer and just behind a 3 hour chase pack. I listened to him and Dan make casual conversation, while thinking in my head, save your energy! I didn't feel like I could comfortably converse and maintain our 6:50 pace, and it was only mile 8!. We gradually charged ahead to catch a 3 hour chase pack. They were a great group of guys working together, but would occasionally fall off pace. Kevin jumped in at mile 11.8-14.8 and led our little pack with Dan, while I sucked wind as the caboose. I had to muster a lot of will power not to just say "screw it!" and let the boys take off from me. Again, I questioned if I could finish the race.

At the mile 16 turn around, I got one of those second winds and was able to regroup. I went to the head of our pack and that's when I began to break away from the group along with another guy and Dan. Then we began to get a bit more strung out. Kevin ran again w/me for about a mile around 17. I was feeling strong and he told me to not press because I was running well. I stuck to 6:45's.

Then I battled a headwind and those dang side-stitches (bad, but nothing like Tri-Cities) for the rest of the race. At mile 20, my brain said "GO!!" but my body wouldn't. At mile 22, I felt like death and was willing myself to keep moving forward. Out loud I said, "Let's go, Anna! Go! Now, make that move! Run!!" But nothing. At mile 23-24ish, I heard the spectator bus driving up behind me, and then it stop just ahead of me. I thought to myself, gosh I wish Kevin would jump out of that bus and save me! Sure enough, Kevin got off the bus and ran up to me. He had decided to help run me in the last couple of miles rather than go directly to the finish line. As paced a few steps ahead of me, I told him to keep talking to me. I needed someone to get me out of my own death march brain and think more positive. He said all kinds of motivational stuff, and I tried to listen to his words and apply them, but my body just wouldn't do what my brain told it to. I knew once again, I wasn't going to hit my goal. 

At mile 25, I began climbing up the final hill and it trashed my legs. Near the very top our friend Mike met us and paced me in. I began screaming in pain, but Kevin said it just sounded like quiet whimpering. I did not think I would be able to crest the hill. My legs turned to jello and felt unstable. My pace was only 7:10, but I felt like I was crawling. As I ran down the backside of the hill into the finish, I tried to open up my stride, but I honestly don't know how my legs were even moving. They felt so heavy and weak. I rounded the bend into the finish shoot and saw 3:00:22 on the clock, the same time I had on my watch. 

Sigh.

A lady ran over a few minutes after I finished with the computer printout of my final results. It said: 3:00:08, which I'm still confused by because I started and stopped my watch on the start/finish lines. Anyway, I'm proud of the effort I put forth. I pushed to the limits that I had available throughout the entire race, and after the 15 miles, I never once held back anymore. I just pressed forward with the energy I thought I was capable of giving at the time, while not wasting what I wanted to save at the end. Perhaps it was the sun that came out in the last 10 miles, or the headwind. I believe once again I was under-trained for my true goal in this race. Despite running higher mileage this time around, I did not do anything drastically different when it came to workouts and long run strategy. In the future, I would like to train for a 2:50-55 marathon. Then I want to go out at a 6:55 pace and hopefully the higher intensity of training will make a 2:58-59 obtainable. I've trained these last two marathons for a sub-3, meaning, focusing on 6:50 pace, and that's exactly how I have ended up running.

Post race: my legs felt fine and I had no problem walking down stairs the next day. My calf, which had plagued me throughout my entire training, never bothered once during the marathon. It was also not achy afterward. I took one full week off from running and just walked. Then I spent the next week cross training. Exactly two weeks from the day of the race, I began running again with the intentions to run every-other-day for a full week and then everyday the following week. I will resume speed work exactly one month from the marathon and focus on 5K/10K goals and train for a half in the late fall. 

After thoughts: It took me 5 marathons to crack 3:30. Goals are as much mental as they are physical. I'm sure once I knock down this wall I won't ever look back. The thing is, it has to remain fun chasing it though. I honestly had more fun training for this race than any other. I reached a peak mileage of 93, and ran several 60+ mileage weeks leading up the race. I got to a point a month out, that I was sad the marathon was coming up so close, because I didn't want to have to stop training. I hope that every time I train for a future event, and my next sub-3 attempt, I mourn the loss of training just as much as I celebrate reaching the goal.

Well that was fun....

Not really. I signed up for the inaugural Salem Capital City Half Marathon knowing ahead of time that it wasn't a PR course. I had been warned by several people that the course consisted of a long section of gravel, a railroad bridge that would be covered by plywood boards, a massive hill, and a start and finish on a soccer field. The course would also be open to traffic. I was not going to run the race at all for all these reasons, because I really wanted to get a half marathon PR around 5 weeks out from my marathon, but there were no other races around that time frame, and the price for the Cap City race was reasonable. I decided I would do it as a workout. I would aim for gmp (6:45-6:50) the first two miles (trail portion), ghmp (6:25-6:30) for the next 9 miles, and gmp for the last two miles (trail portion). My mind was set. Sort of.

The day of the race, I was pretty nervous. I had begun thinking that I might get a half marathon PR in this race without really trying. My half PR was 6:37 pace, and if I ran according to my workout plan, I'd average close to that same pace. So, I figured, I might just aim for ghmp for everything after the first two miles. I had a great 3x1mi @gmp workout two days before and felt rested and ready. Kevin and I warmed up a few miles ahead of time. I had also put in my mind that if I did run this race as a "workout", I would finish up with a 5+ mi cool down and try to get 20+ miles in for the day. We headed out on the country roads and eventually realized we were on part of the half marathon course. We turned around at 1.5 miles and saw that the course route would turn right onto a trail to finish. Instead of running the road back, we took the trail. I had warmed up in my racing flats and quickly realized they would not do on the trail section. The gravel was large and loose. Kevin and I were tip toeing and zig-zagging all over to avoid the biggest rocks and find the most groomed section of the trail. The further we ran the worse it got. I rolled my ankle several times and could feel every stone coming up through my shoe. Then we came to the railroad bridge. The race director had put plywood boards down to cover the big holes in the bridge. They were not fastened, so as we ran across, they were popping up and felt very unsteady. Then we were back on gravel. Eventually the gravel turned to a combination of grass with hidden rocks. Eventually we popped out onto the road on the other side the trail. According to the course markers, we were to make a sharp left turn. My jaw dropped when I saw what laid ahead. A loose gravel pit. Small loose stones with large potholes lined out a trail back to the soccer complex. Again the race director had put down plywood boards on top of the largest potholes. My feet kept slipping out from under me as I tried to maneuver across the gravel pit. I couldn't believe it! There's no way I would be able to run a fast time on the first two miles or last two miles of this course. Not only that, but I may seriously hurt myself even trying to run marathon pace. My feel were already feeling bruised and my legs a little tired from warming up. I needed to change into my back up plan.

We got back to the car and I changed out of  my warmups and into my race attire. It was sunny now, but it was expected to rain. I wore shorts, a tank, compression socks, a hat, sunglasses, and arm warmers. I then changed out of my racing flats (the Adidas Adios, the only shoe I've raced in for every distance for the past 3-4 years) into a brand new pair of Hoka One One Conquests. I had only put about 20 miles in the Hokas and brought them because they felt good doing my mile repeats on Thursday, plus I figured they be a nice shoe to run my long cool down in. I was really nervous about making the switch, but Kevin agreed that I should do it to give myself some extra cushion on the trail.

I jogged around a bit more in them and did some drills and then went to the start line. I stood right at the front, knowing in a smaller race like this, I would be one of the leaders. Plus, I didn't want to get stuck behind anyone on the trail section, especially on the bridge with all the floppy plywood boards. We took off across the mushy soccer field, kicking up water and mud due to the rain earlier that morning. When we hit the loose gravel, I was in the lead and held it until about mile 6.

I was surprised by how stable and easy it felt to run on the trail with the Hokas. I couldn't feel a single rock and blasted ahead lengthening my lead and holding 6:50's as planned. Yet, it felt like a 6:20 effort. When I came out to the road, I was surprised by how dead my legs felt. I figured in about a half mile the lactic acid would go away and I'd have my legs back under me. Kind of the way you feel right when you crest a steep hill. At first, your legs are dead and you feel like you can't lengthen your stride at all, but then after a while of letting the hill take you, you start to feel better and get back into a rhythm. I came to the first main intersection and there were volunteers guiding me across the road. A mile later, Kevin drove past and cheered me on. I was still feeling like crap at mile 3 and was frustrated that my pace was slower than a 7min. I felt like I was giving a lot more energy than 7:20, yet, that's what I kept seeing on my watch. This really frustrated me, but I knew I could make up for it in the next 10 miles. The course turned left and we began climbing a hill. This did not help my pace or my legs. I was getting more frustrated by the minute. The hill climbed for about 3 miles and I noticed that my left IT band and calf were getting really sore and tight. The road had quite a cross-slope and since it was open, oncoming cars kept me off the center line and on the white. I was mentally beginning to lose it, but I kept telling myself I'd make up for it on the downhill.

I finally crested the top and could hear footsteps behind me. I wasn't surprised that second place had finally caught me. I had held a miserable pace up the hill and was sucking wind pretty bad. As he passed, I noted three things. 1) He was older than me. Probably in his late 40's. 2) He was wearing either the Brooks Beast or Addictions. 3) His breathing didn't sound as labored as mine. Instead of letting this get to me, I decided to use him as a pacer and just tuck in behind him. No longer would I have to think, I would latch on and not let him gap me anymore than he already had. My idea didn't work too well. He was a very strong downhill runner and I could not get the leg turnover that I wanted. In Zena, Shamrock, and Butte to Butte I have been able to average 5:50-6:05 on downhill sections. I was able to get down to 6:30, but couldn't go any faster. Finally I had a 6:15, but then the hill began to taper off. We came up to another intersection, but this one didn't have any volunteers working it. I assumed we were to go straight, because that's what the guy ahead of me had done. We were suddenly running along very exposed flat farm fields and I noticed the wind had really picked up. It had begun to rain and before I knew it, it was pouring. The wind was blowing the rain horizontally and I was getting pelted from the side with what felt like sleet. Even though it was hitting me directly sideways it was hard to run. Then, about a half mile later, the course turned left, directly into the wind. On the opposite side of the intersection was a parked car with two volunteers huddled inside trying to stay warm and dry. Their water table had not been set up with full cups (probably because the wind was blowing too hard) and they jumped out when they saw me and started racing around for cups. Not wanting to stop and wait for them, pour my own drink, or even run to the opposite side of the intersection to grab water, I pushed ahead into the wind.

At this point I felt really thirsty, tired, and mentally unstable. I began laughing at the comedy of this race. I could barely run forward the wind was blowing so hard. Kevin pulled up and waved, not rolling down the window in fear of getting soaked. I motioned to him that I needed water, so he drove ahead and parked the car. He got out and ran along side me with my water bottle. What a trooper!

As suddenly as the rain had started, it stopped. The sun came out and I began getting hot. The wind was still blowing hard and it dried me off very quickly. There were a couple of roller hills and we zig-zagged around the country road back towards the trail. At this point, I just tried to average gmp on my Garmin, even though it felt like ghmp effort. The final two miles sucked. The trail took any last bit of energy my legs had in them right out of them. My last mile, which consisted of the loose gravel pit and the soccer field (which by the way had been run over twice by the 5K runners, twice by the 10K runners, and once by the Half Marathon runners, therefore was a muddy mess), was about 7:10. So much for a finishing kick.

After I finished, I just shook my head. I had run 1:28:30. A perfect 6:50 pace half marathon and gmp simulation. I finished second place overall and first female. Since it was the inaugural race, I had also set the female course record. It didn't mean to me what it probably should have. I was disapointed in my time and the way I ran (both menally and physically). I met Kevin and we went to the car so I could change into dry clothes, then we headed out for our 5 mile cool down. At the end of the day, I ran a 21 mile run with 13 miles at gmp. Not too shabby when you say it that way, I guess.

My biggest fear is that I'm not as prepared for my marathon as I thought. Despite the race course and weather conditions, I expected more out of my mind and legs.