Sub-3!

Finally!!! Not only did I run a sub three hour marathon, I took a wrecking ball to the wall that has been impassible for the past three years, running a 2:54:11! I have been floating on cloud nine and have yet to come down. Not only did I run faster than my goal of a 2:55, the Napa Valley Marathon was one of my best marathon race experiences as well.

Friday before the race, my husband, Kevin, and I flew Southwest (Awesome airline! We both got to bring a checked bag for free, so there was no issue making sure all our marathon weather scenarios were covered) down to Sacramento and then rented a car and drove to our friends' house in Napa. We went to bed as soon as we arrived and slept in Saturday morning, making sure we got a solid eight hours of sleep. After an easy shake-out run on a beautiful trail lined with eucalyptus trees, we went to the marathon expo, got our race packet, and attended a panel with Dick Beardsley, Joe Henderson, Don Kardong, John Keston, Bill Rogers, and Frank Shorter (via phone). Then Liisa took us to the running store, Athletic Feat, that she works at. They were in mist of their anniversary sale, and I found a pair of my favorite New Balance shorts on sale for 50% off in an extra small and a purple/blue color that matched my singlet and shoes perfectly, so I snatched them up. This training cycle I had lost quite a bit of weight. I was actually about ten pounds lighter than I was for 2014 Newport Marathon and five pounds lighter than I was for 2013 Tri Cities Marathon. All of my other racing shorts were way too baggy and after putting gels in the pockets, they felt like they were going to fall down unless I tied the drawstring tight. I also found a cute New Balance running jacket and a pair of 890's v3 for $50!

Race day morning, Kevin and I woke up at 4:00 AM to catch the shuttles leaving Vintage High School at 5:15 sharp. I had been dreading this super early wake up call, but when the alarm went off, I felt refreshed. I had gotten a solid 7 hours of sleep that night, and enough sleep the nights leading up to the race, that 4:00 AM felt just like 7:00 AM does sometimes. This was a good sign of things to come.

I got out of bed almost immediately and began getting dressed for the race. I wanted to walk around awhile in the new shorts and my Adidas Adios racing shoes so I knew they were as loose as possible so they didn't irritate the top of my right foot, but also not so loose that they would fall off when I was running. On our last long hard workout four weeks out from the marathon (23 miles with a six mile warm up, 8 miles at marathon pace plus ten seconds, 8 miles at marathon pace, and a 1 mile cool down), it felt like my shoe was too tight at mile 11. I was too stubborn (a.k.a. egotistical) to stop and re-lace my shoe because the workout was going so well. I ended up with something between a bruise and tendinitis across the top of my foot, which had made running pretty painful ever since.

After putting in my contacts, I went upstairs and made myself a slice of Udi's Millet Chia toast with honey, half a scoop of AdvoCare Spark and water, and a banana. Then I used the bathroom... again...and Kevin and I were ready to go. I had no idea that at the time that Kevin had been doing math to calculate what a 6:45 pace worked out to in a marathon. He panicked a bit when he realized it was not the 2:55 he had hoped to run, but rather closer to a 2:57. Yes, you'd think we would have figured this all out ahead of time, but going into the race my sole goal was to run 6:40 pace, no matter what that came out to. I actually didn't want to know how much under a 3:00 marathon it was, because I knew it would freak me out to consider I would be attempting a full six minute PR.

As we drove to Vintage High School, I had a mini panic attack that were were going to be late and miss the shuttles. Parking was a bit crazy and after we finally found a spot, we ran to where the buses were loading. Of course this unnecessary, because there were tons of empty buses still loading runners. The drive to Calistoga was dark and there wasn't much to look at, so I was left alone with my thoughts. After we got off the bus, we planned to hide our bags and head out for an easy ten minute warm up. Then we met our friend, Lonn, and he said he could put them in his car and bring them to the finish for us. He asked if we needed anything out of them, because we probably wouldn't see him again until the start, and I said no. Then on the warm up, Kevin reminded me that I didn't have my sunglasses on. I panicked and we ran back looking for Lonn. I had to use the bathroom one last time, so I got in the back of a long line while Kevin went looking for Lonn. Suddenly, I noticed Lonn jogging towards me with my bag. I flagged him down and was able to grab my glasses. Despite being a chilly 40 degrees and cloudy at the start, the forecast called for sun and mid 50's by the end.

I did a few quick form drills and then met Kevin at the starting line. We weaved our way towards the front and found Lonn again, who was generous enough to hold our warm up clothes as we stripped them off with five minutes to go. The gun went off and we were underway. There were a lot of people around and I felt a little cramped and jostled, but it spread out quick and Kevin and I were able to settle into 6:45 pace. It felt comfortable, and I knew it was going to be a good day.

There were a few hills early on in the race that surprised me, and I felt a side-stitch coming on. I knew from history it was just nerves and I needed to keep my breathing under control. Around mile 5 or 6, we saw a guy ahead run off to the side of the road and pee and then hopped back on in tow with us. Kevin jokingly asked if he felt better now and he happily said yes, the pee was starting to give him a side-stitch. Oh great! I began to get concerned that maybe I needed to pee now. The man told me that it wasn't too long ago that he was one of the runners behind the lead bike. Wow, I thought, it's pretty cool I'm running with such a fast guy. I told him I had just missed breaking three hours twice before, and today I was going for 2:55. I found myself naturally keeping pace with the new guy and drifting away from Kevin. "Anna, what are you doing," Kevin asked trying to reel me back. "You're going like 6:25 pace." I slowed down for another mile or so and then I began to pull away again. Honestly Kevin's concern of our pace being too quick was adding to my anxiety. I thought the pace felt too easy and I knew I could go faster. At mile 8, I left Kevin and never saw him again (sorry, hubby!). For about two miles I ran solo and felt my side-stitch completely disappear. Soon I caught up to a group of men, including the guy I had chatted with earlier and fell into pace with them.

I broke miles 8-20 up into "exciting" chucks to pass the time. At mile 10, I knew I was going to see Ryan and Liisa. I was beginning to warm up and planned to drop my arm warmers with them. They weren't at mile 10, so then it was just a fun guessing game of when I would see them. Finally, I spotted them at mile 11, gave them a big smile, and tossed my arm warmers. Next, I looked forward to eating my first Roctane GU at mile 12. Roctane is like a legal illegal drug in my book. It gets me super energized and makes any fatigue, soreness, or rotten attitude I have just disappear. Sometime around this period, I missed a water stop due to it being set up on the outside of a curve. I didn't want to run out of my way to get water and then regretted the decision soon after. Luckily I was used to running long runs with minimal water.

Then came the half-way point, and I was excited to see my first half split of 1:27:20. Back in April of 2013, my half marathon PR was only 1:26:30. After that, it was a waiting game for the big hill at mile 20. I knew we would start the climb around mile 19, and I was again looking forward to taking another Roctane at mile 18. At this point I was still running with the pack of guys. Sometimes I would be in the back of the pack drafting, other times I would be in the lead. I wanted to talk with them to help pass the time, but they all seemed so focused. I didn't want to be that chatty runner that annoys everyone by trying to get them to talk, so I kept my mouth shut and tried to distract myself with the breathtaking views of vineyards surrounding us. As we approached mile 19 and began our climb, I found myself getting frustrated by the slowing pace. I watched my Garmin go from 6:40 down to 6:47. That was it, I was not going to run any miles slower than 6:45 pace in this race, so I charged to the front and led the pack up the hill. Two guys came with me as we crowned the hill.

After mile 20, I knew it was downhill to the finish. There were no more big hills to climb and I could coast comfortably. There was a slight headwind at this point and I wished I had someone to shield me, but the guys around me were either right at my side or behind me and I didn't feel like slowing down. I chose to focus on the positive rather than the negative of having a headwind, and told myself that it felt refreshing, because it was beginning to get pretty warm out. Miles 21-22 were a long boring stretch where you could see a whole mile ahead of you and felt like you were never getting any closer. I planned to save something for four miles to go and just tried to keep my pace even at this point. With less than three miles to go, we would make a series of turns and lose sight of many of the runners ahead. Before the first right turn, I was told that the third place woman was only a quarter mile ahead of me. I told the guy I was running next to that a quarter mile was a lot of distance to make up. He told me I was running strong. At mile 24, I saw a pony tail bobbing back and forth on the runner ahead of me. I had caught the third place girl. I picked up the pace, and made a statement with my speed as I passed her.

We were back on a long stretch of road and before I knew it, a race official on a bike was pacing alongside me. I'm thinking she had been with the third place girl making sure she didn't cut any corners and now she was monitoring me. The last of the guys of the pack that I had been running with dropped back and now it was just me and the race official. Suddenly, Liisa came up behind me on her bike and started snapping pictures. I waved and joked that I really needed a foot massage. Because I had my shoes laced loose to prevent them from hurting the top of my foot, I had been sliding around in them quite a bit and now the bottoms of my feet felt raw. It also may have just been the fact that I was running a marathon in a pair of racing flats with close to 300 miles on them.

In the last mile, the course made a left turn and then another left turn into a residential area. I saw a runner from Eugene that I knew ahead of me, and ran up to catch him. "Let's go, Steve! Come with me." I couldn't really understand what Steve said in response, but he didn't join me. Then I saw the parking lot for the high school and I kicked it in. I looked down at my watch one last time to see if I would break 2:54. I wouldn't, but I was going to finish well under my goal of 2:55.

It was amazing running down the final stretch that was lined with cheering spectators. I heard the race timer announce me as the third place female. As soon as I got done, they ripped the tag off my bib and put a medal around my neck. A very kind lady handed me a water bottle and told me she was my official escort. Because I finished third, I would be taken to a press room for interviews with the local papers. As I walked there, photographers asked to grab my picture. It's almost like the experience gave me a second wind, and I didn't feel any fatigue at all. I went inside a building and into the press room. The first and second place women were in the middle of their interviews already. Others in the room came over to congratulate me and ask me about my experience. My escort told me she would leave me now and asked if I needed anything. I told her to check on my husband and let him know where I was at. Before she left, she asked to have her picture taken with me. Her daughter had asked her to get a picture with the runner she got to escort. It was pretty flattering!

After my interviews, I went back out to the finish area and had my picture taken two more times by Marathon Foto. They took a serious one, and then asked me to do something fun like flex my arms. I was up for anything and had fun with it. I found Kevin and our other running friends and we all congratulated each other. "So what did you run," they asked. When I told them, they were very impressed. I did what I said I was going to do and didn't fall apart. I was just as surprised with myself as they were. I still cannot believe I ran under 2:55 and it felt good. Never in my wildest dreams (especially when I started out as a marathon runner who could not break 3:30 after four tries) did I think that I would be a 2:54 marathoner.

After a long search for Lonn, we got our stuff back and drove back to Ryan and Liisa's to shower. I ate a Clif bar and drank UCAN recovery drink on the way, while babbling about my race to Kevin. I honestly don't remember anything I said or even the drive home. Once we were at the house, we showered and put on our compression tights. Then we returned to the school to watch the awards ceremony where the overall winners won their weight in wine.

Two more totally awesome things from the marathon weekend: I had the best burger of my life at Gott's Roadside. It was a 1/3 pound patty on a gluten free bun with grilled mushrooms and barbecue sauce. I also had a side of chili spiced sweet potato fries. The morning after the race, Kevin and I got gluten free donuts at Cate and Co. This was my first donut in about three years and it was a fresh baked chocolate ring donut that melted in my mouth. Amazing!!!!

This was one of the best marathon race experiences I have ever had. At no point during the race, after the initial creeping up of a side-stitch, did I have any pain or fatigue that caused me to slow my pace. I did have some quad fatigue in the last few miles, but I still managed 6:35-41. I gave 100% of the effort I could in the moment for each mile. I managed a very even overall pace and negative split the second half by two seconds per mile. People have been asking me what's next? I joke that I have no goals. Honestly though, this sub-3 marathon was a huge monkey on my back that I'm so glad I've tossed.... or shall I say hurled aside. I thank God for giving me the grace of a healthy training cycle. So many times I worried I would not be ready race day, but then remembered my fate was in His hands, and if I was meant to run a sub-3 this time, God would guide me. I'm also grateful to have my friend, running buddy, and coach Steve. Steve wrote, rewrote, and re-rewrote our training program, and his laborious fine tuning helped all of us reach our goals. His last words of advice to me the night before the marathon were to "trust the training." I went into this race confident that I could run a 6:40-45 pace for 26.2 miles because of the training I had done in the months leading up. I am excited to set new goals going forward and carry this confidence with me into my future races.

Race Stats:

Overall Race: 19th/1874. Overall Female: 3rd/896. Overall Age 30-34: 2nd/148.

Mile:  Split:

1        6:52.64

2        6:38.77

3        6:47.83

4        6:40.85

5        6:40.25

6        6:38.65

7        6:38.37

8        6:43.45

9        6:34.57

10        6:35.25

11        6:36.28

12        6:41.35

13        6:29.10

13.1     Split: 1:27:20

14        6:36.51

15        6:35.64

16        6:42.00

17        6:43.28

18        6:31.34

19        6:36.88

20        6:40.47

21        6:33.01

22        6:37.22

23        6:37.28

24        6:41.56

25        6:35.81

26        6:39.20

0.2       6:03.30

26.2     2:54:11

Second half split: 1:26:51

Why a 3 second PR in 2 months feels like a huge accomplishment

On November 23rd, 2014, I ran the Eugene EWEB Half Marathon in 1:23:31, a 3 minute PR at the time. On January 18th, 2015, I ran the Turner Cascade Half Marathon in 1:23:28. It was a three second improvement over the course of two months, which doesn't seem like much to most people, but for me, it feels like a huge accomplishment. Here's why:

The EWEB Half Marathon is an uncertified 13.1 mile course (it actually measured 13.07 on my GPS and even less on other peoples' Garmins). The day of the race it was 46 degrees with a 6 mph wind. The course is mostly flat with a 117 ft total elevation gain going over bridges mostly. My total weekly mileage the week of the race was 51. My weekly mileage the week before the race was 56.5. We had just begun dabbling in harder workouts completing one tempo that consisted of 2mi w.u., 4mi@hmp, 2mi@T, 1mi@T, 2mi c.d. This was a "goal" race for the fall, and I went into it with a solid 10K PR in my pocket, but I wasn't sure I had it in me to run a big half PR. I really surprised myself and was thrilled with a 1:23:31.

Flash forward two months later.

The Cascade Half Marathon is a USATF certified 13.1 mile course (it actually measured 13.28 on my watch and 13.22-13.25 on most other people's. A course official said it was measured 10 yards long this year, but not running all the tangents explains why we all had a long course measurement.) The day of the race is was 52 degrees, 14 mph winds, and an off and on light to moderate rain. The course is pancake flat with a 92 ft total elevation gain. My total weekly mileage the week of the race was 60. My weekly mileage the week before the race was 73.8. That harder tempo workout that I mentioned before, we had run three more times since, increasing the half marathon pace part to five miles and I was running it faster each time. Our long runs were no longer easy, but had long marathon pace sessions in the middle of them. I did a mini taper for this race, but with Napa Marathon in a month and a half as the real goal, I didn't want to taper too much.

At EWEB, I had people to run with for the first four miles or so. In Cascade, I was on  my own after about mile two. I didn't mind this, I wanted to run my own race at Cascade. Pace-wise at EWEB I started at 6:30's and worked my way down. At Cascade, I started at 6:25's and worked my way down. I kept my speed in the reserves until about four miles to go at EWEB, but in Cascade, I went for it after the halfway turnaround to catch Kevin. According to my Garmin splits, I race a much faster, tactical race at Cascade, and did well with pacing even with a headwind towards the end. Even though, I did not break 1:23 like I was hoping to, I know I ran stronger and faster than I did at EWEB.


EWEB Half Marathon                Cascade Half Marathon
Sun, Nov 23, 2014                      Sun, Jan 18, 2015

Distance:	13.07 mi			13.28 mi
Time:	1:23:31			1:23:28
Avg Speed:	9.4 mph			9.5 mph
Avg Pace:	6:24 min/mi			6:17min/mi
Splits:	Avg Pace			Avg Pace
1	6:28			6:26
2	6:33			6:22
3	6:35			6:25
4	6:26			6:22
5	6:27			6:21
6	6:27			6:16
7	6:25			6:19
8	6:24			6:11
9	6:17			6:13
10	6:27			6:16
11	6:20			6:19
12	6:21			6:12
13	6:13			6:11
14	5:20			5:34

I'm so excited to see where my fitness is now and where it can still go in the next month. I've felt so strong racing lately, both mentally and physically. I've struggled a little in some workouts, but once I realize it's more of a mental struggle (due to frustration of not seeing the pacing I want to on my watch due to poor satellite signals or whatever) and I begin to relax, it suddenly feels easier and I get a surge of energy. I hope I can tap into this at Napa, and fuel myself not just with Roctane Gel, but natural adrenaline. I am not attacking Napa the way I've attacked other marathons (going out conservative at 6:55, then settling into 6:50's and trying to work into 6:45's). I'm going for it right from the beginning. I decided I would rather miss my goal by 10 minutes than 3 seconds. Really though, I feel as though my workouts and racing reflect that I'm ready for a 2:57 or faster and that's what I'm going for. I've run a 3 hour marathon twice now. It's time to step it up and have no regrets!

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.

41 seconds

That's how far off I was from running a sub-3 hour marathon. If it had been a perfect day, I'm sure I would have hit my goal.

But it was not a perfect day. Far from it. 

I started training for my sub-3 hour marathon at the tail-end of August. As I blogged earlier, I ran poorly at the Scandia 10K both physically and mentally. I took a week off to put a distinct end to track season and beginning to marathon season. My first workout back was a bust. Six miles at tempo pace was more like three miles at tempo pace and three miles of survival pace for an average of 6:47 pace overall. If you do the math, I had exactly three months to train for a sub-3 hour marathon hoping to average about 6:47 pace. Yet, as I kept training, my body began to surprise me. The more I stuck with it, pushed through the pain, and racked up the miles, the faster I got. At the end of September, I ran a 10 mile race in 6:21 pace. Plug that time into the McMillan Calculator, and it put me right on the fence to run a sub 3-hour marathon. My goal was within reach, but in the back of my mind, I knew I was too close to the edge of that line to confidently say I would go under 3 hours.

The days leading up to the race, I was a nervous mess. I celebrated my 29th birthday, a year that my mother later disclosed to me that she felt sad about when she was my age because it meant it was her last year in her 20's. Not the most positive outlook for what I had been viewing as turning one year wiser and faster. I was in the middle of a job transition from the Eugene Running Company to Gallagher Fitness Resources. On top of that, I had a job audition for teaching a Core and Stretch class at the UO where I had to lead a 30 minute class with a mic and music. Kevin was flying to Arizona for three days, leaving me alone on my birthday. I decided I would take my mind off all these stressors along with the stress of the pending race by celebrating my birthday in Eugene with my training partners and spend the night at Bella's house.

I wore a brand new pair of super cute Aerosoles to my birthday dinner, and the next day got a final flush and alignment massage after my audition to get any kinks out of my body. I had been having low back pain and arch pain so I knew my SI joint was probably out and my ankle was jammed. Between the UO and the massage, I went for a run and couldn't believe how painful my foot felt. It wasn't so much my arch as it was my big toe joint. Both the bottom and the top hurt like hell. I thought, if my foot hurts this bad marathon day I am screwed! The day after the massage, my toe joint no longer felt locked up, but the top was still very sore. It felt as though the tendons of my first two rays were bruised. I am one of those people who can't just let things be. There had to be a reason for this pain, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it right away so I could fix it before the marathon. I didn't have any swelling or visible bruising so I figured I still had a jammed ankle. I also blamed my new racing flats that I was trying to break in, thinking they had done the damage to my foot, but when I put them on, only the mesh touched the area where my foot was sore, not an overlay. Suddenly a light bulb went off in my head. I grabbed my new Aerosole flats and slipped them on. I paced around the apartment and in the matter of seconds, the top of my foot began throbbing. Bingo! My new shoes had irritated the tendon across my big toe. As soon as I had figured out the culprit, I felt relieved. It wasn't a mechanical thing wrong with my foot. I instantly began icing and using some left over Voltaren gel I had from my knee injury last year. Now I just had to hope the tendon would heal by Sunday.

Kevin and I drove to the Tri Cities on Saturday, and we brought our own homemade dinners to eat once we got to the hotel. Packet pickup was in the lobby of the place were were staying at, since the race started in the parking lot of the hotel. A one stop shop. I got my bib, ate a turkey sandwich, and watched football. To calm my nerves, Kevin and I looked up inspirational running quotes online. A few of my favorites were:

"The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination."- Tommy Lasorda
"There is only one way to succeed in anything, and that is to give it everything."- Vince Lombardi
"To a runner, a side stitch is like a car alarm. It signifies something is wrong, but you ignore it until it goes away."- unknown
"Pain is nothing compared to what it feels like to quit."- unknown
"Your body will argue that there is no justifiable reason to continue. Your only recourse is to call on your spirit, which fortunately functions independently of logic."- Tim Noakes
"As is true with life, and in a race, if you are willing to pay the price that others will not, you will reap the benefits that others will not!"- unknown
"If your going through hell, you might as well keep going!"- Sir Issac Unknown
"The greatest danger to most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short, but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark."- Michelangelo
"Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up."- Thomas Edison

That night I couldn't fall asleep (big surprise there). Once I finally did, I kept waking up every two hours, then every hour, then every half hour (I drank water and went to the bathroom just about every time this happened), then I just laid awake from 6AM until my alarm when off at 6:30. As soon as I woke up, I ate a banana, went to the bathroom a lot, and then ate a bag of Sport Beans about 45 minutes before the start. I went for a ten minute warm-up jog with Kevin 30 minutes before the race started. We ran out five minutes and back five minutes on a bike path behind our hotel. The view was beautiful, the weather was great, and the wind was almost non-existent.

It was a perfect day for a race.

Except my foot was sore. I couldn't believe it! It didn't hurt at all on my easy three mile run the day before. I had iced it and stayed off it most of Saturday since we had the long drive. I had also used Voltaren gel just before warming up. This couldn't be happening!

Back in hotel room, I stripped out of my warm-up gear, used the bathroom one last time, and then headed to the starting line. I tried to shake off the foot woes and chalk it up to pre-race jitters. I did a few form-drills and strides and then found Trae and Bella. Bella was upset because her Timex GPS was not linking. I had noticed that it had taken a long time for my Garmin to connect before my warmup. I hoped this wouldn't effect the accuracy during the race.

The race director made a few announcements, and then we were off. I checked my watch every few seconds to make sure I wasn't blowing it in the first mile. 6:15, 6:20, 6:34, 6:42, finally 6:53 and I settled in. My foot felt fine and I soon forgot about it. The course started flat and then we ran over a bridge, which included a gradual incline. I noticed coming off the bridge, the incline was steeper and shorter. We continued along the river, first on road through a residential area, and then onto a bike path through a park. It was about 2.25 miles in when Bella passed me saying something about killing herself and began creating a large gap. I resisted the temptation go with her. I knew she was not using a GPS, and I was right on pace. I had trained specifically for a 3-hour marathon and that's what I was going to run, from start to end.

I came up on a man around mile three and could not shake him. I decided to say hi and introduce myself, since it seemed we may be running together for awhile. This small conversation would also prove to myself that I was not going to fast. If I could keep 6:53's feeling comfortable now, hopefully, 6:50's later on would feel easy too. The gentleman's name was Doug. I found out Doug was aiming for a 3:02-3:05 marathon. I laughed and mentioned that my training partner who passed us both and was up ahead in the distance was aiming for the same time. I would have suggested he pace with her, but right now she was doing 6:40's. I also let him know our pace was a bit faster than his goal, right around 2:59-3-hour marathon mark. After another mile together, he said he was going to back off and not ruin his race by running up with me.

I continued on along the river path and tried to enjoy the breathtaking view. At mile four, I grabbed my first cup of water. This is how I had trained and I wanted simulate it the best I could: water at mile 4, water and GU at mile 8, and then a small sip of water or Powerade every two miles and another GU at mile 15 and mile 22. I noticed that my breathing was not as calm as I would have liked it to be and I was beginning to get the faintest of side-stitches in my upper right ribcage. Pain in this area had been a problem ever since the Scandia Run, and my massage therapist thought that it may actually be linked to a muscle in my arm/shoulder that connects down into the side of the ribs. I tried to focus on deepening my breathing and relaxing my arms.

As we approached the second bridge on the course, I was noticed I had been gaining on Bella. As we ran up the bridge, I closed the gap completely. We ran together over the bridge and then looped underneath it back in the direction we had came from on the other side. Immediately we were greeted with a strong headwind that neither of us had noticed before since we had been previously running with it.

Coming off the bridge, my minor upper left ribcage side-stitch had moved down to my lower right abdominal. Then my entire right oblique cramped up. I tried to keep my breathing smooth, but the headwind and stronger effort needed to maintain pace though it did not make that very easy. Suddenly, Kevin appeared in front of us, ready to pace us for a few miles. I was so relieved. I tucked in behind him and Bella tucked behind me. I put all my focus on getting rid of my side-stitch. It was getting worse by the minute. Now it had crept along my whole lower abdominal wall and was creeping up my left oblique. I tried puffing out air hard while taking a stomping step with with each stride. I heard this was a tactic to literally "kick out" a side-ache. The process was not working, though, and I felt like I was just wasting more energy.

We saw the leaders folding back on us and there were a few close-call head on collisions when we had to make a sharp blind turn off the bike path onto the road and vise versa. At the run-around-the-cone turn-around I saw that Bella had fallen back. It was just Kevin and I heading back with the wind at our backs at this point. The pain was unbearable, and I put my ego aside and grabbed my sides with my hands pinching hard. Normally, I would never do this in a race. I feel that it is a sign of weakness. When I see a runner up ahead of me grabbing their sides, I know they are falling apart and it gives me motivation to push forward and pass them. I didn't want to do it, because I saw it as the first step to me giving up, but I couldn't resist any longer. The side-stitches were so powerful, that I could feel myself begin to slouch forward, as though the muscle cramping was contracting my abdominal into a crunch.

I was desperate for relief, so I took my second GU at mile 11-12ish, or about 1:20 minutes into the run. I thought that perhaps I was cramping so bad because I needed more electrolytes, or energy, or water, or something! The GU and water chaser didn't help, and that's when panic really hit me. I was not going to finish this race. I couldn't. Not in this state of pain. I was in pure hellish agony. The cramps in my lower belly were worse than any mensuration cramps or gluten cramps I had ever experienced. I began wondering if I what I was experiencing was an ovarian cyst erupting or an appendicitis. My contracting obliques were making it difficult to breath. They were squeezed so tightly around my ribs that my lungs could not expand. Of course me panicking didn't help that either.

Kevin noticed my breathing was becoming irregular and he told me to take longer, slower breaths. Easier said than done! Bella caught back up to us and asked if I was ok.

"No!" I was almost in tears.
"Cramps, huh?"
"Yes, like nothing I've ever had."
"You'll be fine. It will pass."

I thought, are you kidding me? This started at mile what, 8? 9? We are at the half way point now and they are getting worse! Suddenly, Kevin said he had leave us on our own. We were back at his car and he wanted to make sure he got to the other side of the river to see me again at mile 18 and the finish. In my head I pleaded with him not to go. He was my rock. Even though he hadn't said much while he was pacing me, he was the one consistent thing that I could focus on in this chaos. He was holding pace and I just had to focus on staying with him. Now I was back on my own, depending on my watch and Bella who seemed to have found her second wind and was picking up the pace again. She took over took the lead and I followed close behind, but I realized we were running 6:40-45's and hadn't wanted to run that fast at mile 14-16. The stitches, which I thought were maybe starting to diminish, would suddenly come back in full force, and I again grabbed my sides and pinched hard. Sweet relief! It was so awkward running with chicken wings, but it was a few seconds of pain on a scale from 1-10 at a 3 rather than a 12.

Bella asked me if I wanted to take a Tums. She had packed them in case of a gastrointestinal emergency. I told her no. My issue was not my bowels, it was my muscles. As we ran on, I told her I needed to back off the 6:45's and run 6:50's and she should go ahead. Instead, she agreed  it was smart to back off and she held back with me. I was relieved for this, because it was nice to have her there, just in case I decided to bail out, she could tell Kevin where to come pick me up. Finally, I couldn't handle the pain anymore, I became desperate to try absolutely anything.

"Bella, I'll take those Tums."

"Ok, here," she said reaching into her shorts and grabbing a package of four out for me.

"Thanks," I said as I went to grab it, but before I could get a solid grip on the small saving grace, she let go and I dropped it! We were running too fast for me or her to even consider stopping and running back to pick it up. I began to cry, which did not help with my breathing or the stitches.

"Oh my gosh, Bella, I am so sorry! I am so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it, I probably won't need them. If I do, I"ll  just poo my pants!"

This is what I love about Bella. Her honesty and her heart. She sacrificed her own race to give me a chance to save mine, and in return, I may have screwed us both over, but rather than get mad, she laughed it off and kept running.

We crossed the third bridge on the course, and I re-overtook the lead from Bella. There was something about this bridge, either the change in wind direction, the thought that we were heading back toward the finish line, the fact I now had the responsibility as lead runner, or just the fact that climbing up it required me to engage my hip flexors and lean forward slightly, that my side-stitches suddenly began to recede. I could literally feel the muscles around my abdominal cavity releasing and I could breath easier again. Mentally (and physically) this gave me a second wind. I was overcome with joy and despite slowing down to a 7min pace on mile 17 over the bridge, I dropped the pace right back down to 6:50 and focused on getting to the next water stop.

There was a short section of loose gravel in the race which really threw me off. There had been one previously on the other side of the river when Kevin was helping to pace us, and now here it was again. We had to go over a set of railroad tracks that was set on an embankment. I hoped this was the last surprise in the race course. There had been so many right turns, nearly running head-on into marathon traffic on the out and back section, blind corners, longer bridges than I had thought there would be, that I was ready to just run a nice flat, straight, paved course to the finish.

At mile 18 there was a water stop and a headwind. Off in the distance, I could see dark clouds and started to feel rain drops. I started to get chilled and wished I had worn arm warmers and a hat rather than just a singlet, shorts, and gloves. I hoped I was still right on pace for 3-hours, but I really had no idea. My watch had been beeping both early and late at the marathon course mile makers. I kept hitting split to help my watch stay on track with the course, but I was fearful that since I was playing it so close pace-wise to the sub 3-hour mark, that I might be slightly over that mark and miss my goal by a few seconds.

Kevin appeared at mile 18 and helped block the wind for me again. He was only able to help out for about a mile and then had to run back to the car to meet me at the finish. While running with me, he reassured me that I was doing great and that I was right on pace (he emphasized the RIGHT) and I had to maintain this effort. After he left, I tried to tuck behind some of the runners on the course, but they were far and few between. Whenever I caught up to someone and tucked in, my watch would immediately slow to 7 minute pace, and I would have to untuck and run around them.

The course winded around and on a few "switch backs" I looked back for Bella, but couldn't see her. I got a sickening feeling that something happened to her. I had thought she was close behind, but I wasn't hearing her footsteps because of the wind. Now I realized, she may have stopped way back at mile 18 and I just left her. I felt like a bad friend. She had been supportive during some of my dark miles, and then when she struggled, I just left her behind. I decided not to dwell on it and push on. For all I knew, she was still close behind me.

I started to feel fatigued, so I tried to take another GU, but as soon as I put a drop into my mouth, I gagged. I spit it out and decided I would have to just drink Powerade for energy for the last 10K. For some reason, my stomach couldn't tolerate anything sweet and solid.

Somewhere around mile 18-20, I had a feeling my SI joint slipped out of alignment. After mile 20, my low back very began getting sore and spasmy. I could feel my right glute working extra hard and same with my right calf, because both started to cramp. My left inner knee also began to ache which is a tell-tail-sign that my SI joint is out of alignment.

I was f*cking through with this race!

My body was turning against me and I just wanted to be done. With four miles to go, I thought, GO! Make your move! Pick it up! But my body wouldn't respond. My abdominals were sore, as though I had spent the last hour in plank. My right calf would cramp if I got up on my toes. My back was very angry at me for doing something (turning to sharply? Stepping wrong? Running a marathon? Who knows). I decided right there, though, that I wasn't going to "go with the plan". I wasn't going to run 6:45's for the last 10K and try to finish with the 6:30 kick I had hoped to have. I was going to get off my ass now (figuratively of course) and finish this marathon with every thing I could, and leave everything out on the race course. I saw Kevin again with three miles to go and he still was telling me I was right on the fence. I didn't care about the sub-3 hour thing though. I had known all along I was right on the fence. My whole training cycle the last 3 months I was right on the fence. I was going to finish this marathon as hard as I could and be damn proud of every step.

At mile 24, we had to climb over the last bridge, which was the first bridge. As I ran up to it, I realized it was way steeper than running over it the first time. Steeper, but shorter. I busted my ass up the hill, making sure my watch showed I stayed under a 7 minute mile. I tried to open my stride on the downhill, taking full advantage of it and allowing my muscles a break from doing the work themselves. Once I got on the flat, I kicked with everything I had, which was only about a 6:40 for the last mile, but I was ecstatic to have gone through everything I had gone through in this marathon and see a 6:40 at mile 25 pop up on my watch. As I ran toward the finish line, the big clock was ticking: 3:00:28, 3:00:32, 3:00:38..... I was still going to be under 3:01! I crossed the line and folded forward, resting my hands on my knees and then immediately sat down. My low back was spasming like crazy. A woman rushed over with a medal and a finishers t-shirt for me. I stood up as soon as possible so as to not make a scene, and hobbled over to the massage area.

"Do you guys know much about aligning SI joints?"
"You bet! Hop on the table."

I got on the table face down. The masseuse, who I will from here on call "Mr. Magic Hands" grabbed my leg with one arm and pressed the palm of his other hand into my low back. He then push, pulled and twisted. The force he was using on my back didn't hurt my back as much as it hurt my abs as they were being pressed into the table. I grinned and beared it, believing this brief moment of pain would be worth it in a few minutes. Then he flipped me over and tugged on my legs. Finally, he twisted me to each side. As he was working, another masseuse walked up to oversee what he was doing.

"Did you check her leg length?"
"Yeah, she was two inches off."
"Two inches!?! Wow! Does this happen often to you?"
"After some long runs," I said.
"When did it happen today?"
"Around mile 18 or 20. I'm not sure. I felt my knee first, then my back, then my calf."
"Wow, that's impressive you ran that far with your legs two inches off."

My back was feeling a lot better after about a two minutes of work, so I thanked Mr. Magic Hands and told him that I thought he got it and I could take it from here. I got off the table and my back was no longer spasming. My stomach on the other hand was about to loose it's GU's. Kevin grabbed me a free water and we walked back to the hotel room. I walked in and started screaming in the sake of nausea.

"Pour me Pepto! I..I... need.... to ...ugh! I need....to... shower."

I could hardly talk, let alone move without feeling sick and dizzy. I knew I needed to drink more water. I struggled to peel off my wet race clothes and waddled into the shower. My legs felt exhausted, my abs felt bruised, and my back was sore. While in the shower, I turned the water as cold as it would go. We had to be checked out of our hotel room in 45 minutes and I was bound to take an "ice bath" before we left. Twice I almost tipped over and fell out of the shower. Kevin came rushing in to make sure I was ok. I couldn't talk, I was now sick, sore and freezing. I did my best to stay in as long as I could bear it, and then I shouted for Kevin. He came in with a towel and a shot of Pepto. I threw back the shot and told him to poor me another. I chased it with as much water as I could. After the second shot, I dressed in compression gear and covered with some clean warm up clothes.

Kevin showered and packed up the car, while I kept walking circles around the hotel room and sipping water. Finally, we headed back out to the finish and checked my overall results. 3:00:40, second place female overall. I found the race director to get my award early so Kevin and I could get started on our four hour drive home.

During the drive, we stopped once for food (I had a salad with salmon on it since that was the only gluten free menu item and some of Kevin's left over jojo's) and three times for the bathroom (I peed clear every time!). When we got home, I was on my feet constantly and other than feeling like I had been in a boxing match and had my ribcage blown apart by Muhammad Ali, I felt great! My legs felt great, my back was feeling much better, and my stomach was fine.

The following days went the same. No problems walking down stairs or staying hydrated, but if you tried to hug me, I would scream. My abs stayed sore for a good two days. Crazy! As for the race, I have no regrets. I am not upset that I was 41 seconds slower than my goal. I know that I gave the race everything I had, and even more than I ever knew I had. Looking back, I am astonished that I held some of my fastest race splits during those 8 agonizing miles. I also cannot believe that I averaged under a 7min pace for the last 10K of the race. Those brutal workouts that I ran since Scandia when I was in pain and doubt and wanted to quit, yet still pushed through, hoping I wasn't making a mistake and instead building my pain threshold had paid off.

Right before I ran this race, the term "warrior" was being tossed around in a lot of conversations. Cassey, the woman whose Pilates blog I follow, wrote on her Facebook pages "Be a warrior, not a worrier." My boss told me that what will separate me from the others in the race is that I am a warrior. And Kevin, on many occasions leading up to the race, told me that I am a warrior in my workouts. Since the race, I have had time to reflect on what it takes be truly be a warrior. When I had been running the marathon and wanted desperately to end the pain and drop, I thought back to that quote, "Pain is nothing compared to what it feels like to quit." I know now that if I would have quit, I would have been disappointed with myself, even though at the time, it seemed like the best decision. Battling through the pain, giving everything I had in the moment, and not giving up, is being a warrior. I have no ill-feelings toward that 41 seconds. If anything, it's a motivator to train harder next time. When goals don't come easy, that's what makes them even the more rewarding to achieve. Part of what's scary about the marathon is the anticipation of pain and not knowing if you can overcome it. Now I know that I can run through pain that I never imagined that I could. Next time I just have to cut off that 41 seconds!

The Leech

I've never actually encountered a real leech before. They sound gross, though. Grabbing a hold of you, sucking out your blood, feeding off of your energy, YUCK! Yet, I have to confess, in my last race, The OTC 10 Miler, I acted as a leech. I fueled myself off my hosts energy, and I didn't let anything detach me from them.

Race day morning the weather was bad. It had been raining and windy all weekend. The weather man warned of gusts up to 40mph and 1-3 inches of accumulation before the weekend was over. I guess you could say we were fortunate because Sunday morning it was only raining lightly and the winds had calmed down to a mild 13mph. Also, there were no down trees on the race course and only one really massive puddle that you couldn't get around. The lack of intense wind gusts kept the remaining branches attached to their repective trees rather than flying through the air and taking out runners.

We had driven down to Eugene from Salem that morning and Steve had been late picking us up. Then, I had an "emergency" pit stop at a gas station in Coburg on the way down which further delayed us. When we finally got to Eugene, my nerves, and possibly the steak fajitas from the night before, had gotten to me again and I had to make another pit stop at the bathrooms in park where the race was being held. I hate these bathrooms because the stalls have no doors on them. I only use them when it's a real emergency, and even though I had just gone, this was an emergency. As soon as Steve parked the car, I bolted. Another woman was heading in at the same time, and I thought, oh great, now one of us is going to have to walk past the other one while they are doing their business. "Hi," I said, trying to make this a little less awkward by exchanging pleasantries ahead of time. "Hi," she said, "there's no toilet paper in the bathrooms." "What?" I said as the blood left my face. I felt mortified. "There's no toilet paper," she said again, "I was in here earlier and left to go grab some from my car." I stepped inside every stall and checked. She was right, there was no toilet paper. "Here," she said, handing me a small clump from her pocket, "I brought a bunch." "Um, thanks," I said as I stared at the few squares in my hand. I was now panicking. This was not going to be enough. I debated for a second about running back out to Steve's car and telling the boys we needed to drive to the nearest Starbucks so I that could use their restroom. Maybe Steve even had TP in his car. But as soon as the thought had entered, I ran into a stall. I could not hold my bowels for one more second. I dropped trow and situated myself in a squat hovering above the toilet. I won't go into the details, but lets just say, it was a bad situation and the tiny little clump of TP I was grasping in my had was not going to cut it. My quads began quivering under my body weight. I felt like I had been holding Yoga Chair Pose for the past hour. As my brain scramble to figure out a solution to my toilet paper problem, I heard the the lady who had lent me some of hers flush. She walked past me making sure to keep her eyes forward. Oh man, was I really going to do this? "Um," I said meekly, "you wouldn't happen to have any more toilet paper, would you?" I heard her chuckle and she stuck her hand around the corner revealing a large wad of TP. "Thank you so much!" I finished my business, cleaned up the best I could, still mortified I had not done a good enough job and it may come back to haunt me in the race, and got out of there. As I jogged back to Steve's car, my legs felt like I had bricks strapped to my feet. The squatting had turned them into aching noodles. We only had time to jog for about two miles. We were dodging puddles the whole way and averaged about nine minute pace. The whole time I was thinking, I can hardly lift my legs. Boy I've screwed up this race.

After a weak attempt at some form drills, I filed into the starting line and attempted to shield myself on all sides with runners. Because it was in the mid 50's, I had chosen to only wear a singlet, shorts, hat, and gloves. A good choice for a 10 mile race, but not such a good choice for just standing around in. The race was late to start because the 5K lead biker was no where to be found. After an eight minute delay, the race was underway. Opposite from my race strategy at the windy 10K Scandia (there it was to race my own race), I tucked in behind Kevin and followed his lead. My goal was to run with Kevin and Steve as long as I could. They had wanted to start out at 6:25 and work down from there. I was thinking that if I could just average 6:25-6:30 pace, I would be thrilled. I knew my decision to leech onto these guys early on could ruin my race. I decided to take the risk and see if my body was capable than more than my brain thought it was.

We ran the first mile slow. Not intentionally, but because Kevin's Nike GPS was off. My watch had us at 6:35 pace, so I said to Kevin, "Hey, we're going a little slow." "No we're not," he said, "We're at 6:23. A little too fast." I asked a runner next to us what his watch was at and he agreed that we were going 6:35 pace. "Well, crap!" said Kevin as he began to pick it up. Steve and I followed his pacing, but we still hit the first mile in 6:35. I wasn't too jolted by this since I was just hoping to average a smidgen under 6:30 pace. If anything I thought this may help me hold onto the boys longer. There were two run-around-the-cone U-turns on the course, and at the first one we saw a runner in front of us slip and fall. "Take the turns easy," noted Kevin. I was glad we were starting out conservative, because I didn't feel adequately warmed up and my quads were still a little achy.

After the cone, Kevin picked up the pace and we hit 6:28 for the second mile. Then Steve then made a move and took the lead from Kevin. I kept my second position and now paced behind Steve. We passed several people at this point, including two women, which put me in contention for third woman overall. I was nervous about making this move so early, because I knew the women who I had passed were fast. Was I picking up the pace to early? Was I going to crash and burn later on? Then my watch chirped 6:28 for mile three and I knew I was still close to right where I had wanted to be even if I was running my own race at this point. Kevin took over the lead again and that's when we ran a 6:15 for mile four. "Balls!!" I shouted when I looked down at my watch. "That was a 6:15, boys." This split didn't seem to phase either of them, and they ignored my comment. My brain was doing cartwheels. Well I had made up for the first slow mile, but jeez, 6:15?!? At mile four?!? What was I doing running with these guys? Was this how it was going to be now? They had started out too slow, so now they had all this extra energy built up and they were going to run the last six miles of the race at my 10K PR pace? This is crazy! I debated falling back and just letting them do their own thing and I would do mine. At this point, we caught up to another group and despite our efforts to pass, one of the guys hung with us. Oh, great, I thought, now I'm pacing with three boys. This is not smart, Anna. Yet, I didn't back off the pace. I just kept running with them. I realized that seeing the 6:15 on my watch was more of a mental shock to my system, rather than a physical shock. My legs still felt fine, my breathing was under control, and my upper body was relaxed. I decided at that point that I was going to stay with our "wolf pack" (that's what the course marshals started calling our group as we ran by) as long as my body could hold out.

As we made our way off the second bridge in the race and took a sharp turn left, we were warned it was slippery and to stay to the left because the course would fold back on itself and we'd be seeing the leaders coming at us. As we ran toward mile six, where the last cone turn around was, I began to feel more confident that I had not made a mistake going out too hard. I had done a good job keeping up with Kevin and Steve at this point and felt like I could repeat what we had just done in the second half of the race. Then Steve took the lead again and kept us at an honest 6:18 pace through mile five. Instead of staring at my Garmin wide-eyed when the split popped up, and simply noted it and kept moving forward. I was a leech and I was not going to detach. As we saw the first runners on their way back, some of them said good job and others just waved. The greatest, though, were the ones that did a double take when I ran past. I imagined them thinking to themselves, was that Anna? What is she doing way up here? Wow! Ok, maybe they weren't thinking that, but if I saw myself, that's what I would have been thinking. Or maybe something more along the lines of, what an idiot!

During mile six, we slowed down to loop around the last cone and then began our four mile trek to the finish line- into the wind. As soon as I was around the cone, I looked immediately to my right to see who was coming up on us. No one was there. I  looked down the bike path ahead of us and saw no one. No one! I couldn't believe we had formed such a gap on all the people we had passed. Finally, I estimated it was about a minute behind us, I saw the two women that we had passed at mile three running together towards us. Part of me felt relieved that I had a decent size gap on them. Another part of my panicked because they both still looked fresh. I was wondering if they were saving themselves for the last four miles of the race. The wind and turns were going to make these last miles hard and my Garmin reflected this was the case after we ran a 6:20 and 6:24 for miles six and seven. I tried my best to file in behind Kevin and Steve as they took turns taking over the lead, but it was hard to stay completely out of the wind. At mile eight, Kevin was leading and said that he was really going to pick it up on the last two miles. I said, "Ok, sounds good." I felt like I still had some juice in the legs and I was looking forward to seeing just how much. We hit mile eight in 6:18 and Kevin accelerated. We hit mile nine in 6:16. Huh, I thought, uneventful. At this point, we had lost Steve and it was just Kevin, the random guy, and me. We approached the park where the finish line was, and I suddenly got giddy. We were almost done! "Whoohoo! We are almost done! Half mile to go!" I shouted. I surged a head of Kevin and my sudden endorphin rush took him by surprise. He hesitated for a second and then took the lead back from me. We lost the random guy and now it was just Kevin and I making our way around the duck pond, on the slippery cobblestone. Kevin kept inching away from me, and I did my best to keep up with him, but I was afraid I might slip if I got up on my toes anymore than I already was. There were a lot of turns and the footing was bad. I decided I would wait to throw down my sprint until we got on the concrete straightaway. I took one last look across the pond where I had just run to see if I could see any women coming up behind me. No one. As I made my final turn toward the finish line, I could hear the announcers cheering in two men. Wow, I thought, I had see no one in front of Kevin, Steve, and I for so long. We must have really picked up the pace on this last mile. As soon as our path was straight, Kevin took off and I followed. I got up on my toes and was surprised by how much of a sprint I had left for just running ten miles. As I crossed the line, I looked over at the clock and saw that I was at 1:03 something. I hit my watch and came to a heaving stop. As soon as I caught my breath I began screaming. "AHHHHHH!" I grabbed Kevin and gave him a huge bear hug. "Wooohooo! I did it, Babe! I kept up with you the whole time! Yes! This is amazing! Whooo!" I was so excited and I suddenly didn't feel tired at all. Normally, I finish a race and I'm hunched over, sucking wind, trying not to throw up on the person taking off my chip or bib tag. This time, the race officials had to get my attention to collect the proof of my achievements because I was too busy celebrating with my husband. We waited in the chute for Steve to finish, which was only about twenty seconds after us. "Come on, let's go cool down," I said to Kevin. "Let's go. Oh man, I'm so pumped! We need to keep running, come on..." I started jogging off and Kevin just grumbled. I was on a runner's high. I felt like I could keep going, keep running forever at that point. The rain had started to come down harder and Kevin had to keep yelling at me to slow down. "Babe, I can't run that fast right now, my hamstring is really tight." I just kept jabbering away when I hear him say, "What are you saying? I can't hear you up there. Anna, slow down!" I just giggled. I knew what he meant. Slow my cool down pace down. There's no need to run 7:30 pace or faster after just racing 10 miles. But another interpretation of what he was asking me to do had crossed my mind, and I thought, no, Kevin, I won't slow down. This is how fast I am now. You've got a little leech you have to deal with in races from now on. I'm your pace now.

After about a mile and a half Kevin headed back to the car and I kept running. I wanted to get in about 15 miles that day and I just needed one more mile to hit my goal. I ran on Pre's Trail and the bark was squishy from all the rain. I began to get really cold and wished I had put on a jacket before cooling down. I didn't rush back to the car, though. I needed this time to myself. I wanted to reflect on what I had just done. I had gone against my better judgment to prove that my body was capable of doing more than my brain thought it could. I realized that if I have a goal and give my brain no other options, then I can reach that goal. There was no workout leading up to this race that gave me a reason to believe that I was capable of running ten miles at a 6:20 pace. I had had so many horrible tempo runs earlier in my training that I was elated when I was able to average 6:25 pace for six miles just the week before. I had figured that would be the best pace I could average for the 10 Miler, but after pacing with Kevin and Steve in other workouts in the past two weeks, I decided to try to pace with them in the race as well. And it worked! My running block had been mental and even though I had known that, I still tried to blame it on other things, like just sucking in general. Now I didn't have any excuses.

I'm running my first marathon since spring 2011 in three weeks. I'm pretty excited to see if I can hit my goal of sub-three hours. I had gone into this training cycle thinking it was a done deal, but after struggling early on, I changed my goal to 3:02-3:03. Now I'm back on board with believing that I'm faster than I think I am. I'm ready to take it to the next level mentally and "unleech" myself by running the race solo because Kevin and Steve won't be there to pace me. It's just going to be me, my body, and my brain.