Thursday, March 19, 2015

I Qualified!

That's right! Last weekend, both my wife and I qualified for the Boston Marathon 2016. I ran 3:04 and she ran 3:26. Overall, it was a fantastic weekend with college friends, and it was so fulfilling to complete this yearlong goal!

The Weather
We knew going into the race that it would likely be rainy. However, the temps were pretty good - 50s. While water can add some weight, I thought I still had a chance of running a fast time with good temps. After all, I nice day of running has been rare this winter. I opted for light and fast clothes - singlet and shorts and ball cap. It worked out well, and I never was very cold minus some tingly hands and forearms which I am used to.

Race Breakdown
It was amazing how fast the race went by. With so many people and changing scenery, the miles ticked by. I started in corral 2 and was at the 5k mark before I knew it. Through the initial miles, my pace was too fast (6:30-6:45) but I was feeling good minus a slightly heavy belly from one too many Grab the Gold bars in the morning. In those initial miles, all the half and full runners are mixed together, people are jockeying for position, and it is easy to get caught up in it.

For the middle miles, I fell in with a consistent group of runners. I kept edging up next to a tall, college-age kid running my pace, so I finally asked him what time he was going for. He, too, was attempting to BQ, and on his first marathon attempt too (he did)! We cruised together for ~8miles, through the halfway point, 16, 18, etc. I think it really helped to have a partner through those miles to keep me consistent. We knocked out 7:00 miles one after another. I kept thinking about Scott Jurek, the famed ultrarunner. In one of his early attempts at the Badwater Ultramaraton through Death Valley, he collapsed halfway through, completely spent. He convinced himself that the only way he could finish is if he approached the rest of the race as brand new, like he had started over. He went on to win and set a new course record. I told Geoff, my new partner, at 13.1, "brand new race," and we started the countdown from there.

Eventually I left Geoff and headed out solo. I was still holding steady paces, but starting to feel the fatigue coming in during miles 18-20. Having only single digit miles left kept me moving. Due to the heavy belly, I delayed my first gel until about mile 10. About mile 19 I choked down another 1/2 gel or so. I was feeling OK in energy but wanted to delay the "wall" as I progressed beyond my longest training run of just 16miles. These miles were tough because the half- runners were gone, the bands were rare, and the crowds were absent. I think it's in these middle miles where mental focus and toughness are important to bridge the gap between the adrenaline of starting and the relief of nearly finishing.

The last 10k were both hard and exhilarating. It's only 10k to go. At that point in a marathon, I have run so far and so long, I think what's another 40 mins?! The course winds through a park across the river from main DC and the finish for the last few miles. I was pretty isolated with just a couple runners in sight. My legs were feeling tired, and I dreaded a debilitating cramp. Plus, the second of 2 significant hills occurred from miles 22-23. Man! There was a lot of self-talk going on. "You can do this. You are doing this!" "Keep the pace, Gary, keep the pace!" "Come on - just keep going."

Throughout the last 5-10k, my pace was still good even as the effort increased. I even dropped a 6:40 mile at mile 19. The hill at 22 got me though, and dropped my pace back to 7:19. Some downhills gave some relief and took me back under 7:00, fortunately. In the last 2 miles, I was just hanging on, struggling to put one foot in front of the other. The last 1.2miles were at 7:28 pace. I knew I had done it, though, which kept me going. Coming through the finishing chute, I was very calm, content, and fulfilled. I think I gave a little fist pump even.

Post Race
It was truly amazing how it hit me so abruptly as my legs stopped moving. Running 3hrs and then...STOP. My legs nearly buckled. I ducked for my medal and just took a moment in that position to collect myself. I considered going to the medical tent. In fact, if it weren't raining, I probably would have laid down.

I felt like an alien in the finisher's area. Half finishers were swarming everywhere, fresh off running half the distance in the same time as me. I shuffled by tables, grabbing chocolate milk, water, pretzels, bananas, and gatorade. I gratefully welcomed a wrap of space blanket and asked the volunteer to open my water bottle for me. My cold hands had become claws. Picking up my "finisher's jacket," a real nice piece of swag, I again required assistance to get it zipped.

Our friend Caroline came in at 3:17 and my wife at 3:26. While waiting, I consumed liquids and shivered uncontrollably among the crowds with umbrellas and ponchos. A concerned volunteer asked me if I was OK, and spectators opened my gatorade for me. I watched the girls finish, and we all rendezvoused with our friends Mike and Devon. Mike swiftly took action, stripping our wet clothes and providing dry replacements. I kept imagining myself holed up in a snow cave in the mountains, spooning with a partner, trying to survive through an unplanned bivy.

Wrapped in aluminum-plastic skirts and shawls, we shuffled our way to the Metro Station and back home to rest. Our hosts provided a delicious post-race meal of homemade blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs. We all showered, lounged, and recounted our tales of glory from the morning race.

What now?
It was such a life-giving weekend! We enjoyed the company of friends, sharing in suffering and celebration. Having all four of us meet or exceed our goals was really special and allowed us to be smiley and cheery all day! We immediately started making plans for Boston.

Monday, our friend emailed us about how hard it was to return to work, back to normal life. Setting and working toward a big goal requires such singular focus. Last spring, I was inspired by this same friend and a professor to try to BQ. My wife and I both had to drop over 30mins off our PRs, and we hadn't run a marathon in 3.5 years. We worked really hard and made a lot of sacrifices. Sometimes it was very rewarding. Sometimes it was a chore. We kept at it and it kept us going through a dreary winter. We're in the best shape of our lives thanks to this goal.

I think we are all kind of at a loss as to what to do now that it's over. All the hard work over a year cashed in for a 3-3.5 hr experience. It's really pretty strange and somewhat anticlimactic. We want the high to go on forever, right? Post-race I'm stuck between "never running another marathon because it hurts so much" and "I bet I can go faster in Nashville in 6weeks." Visions of grandeur rise up like carbonation to replace the completed goal as it drifts into memory. I'm grateful for the ability and privilege to run and to climb and to be fit. It's incredibly rewarding and satisfying to push myself and see what I'm capable of. That is why I started this journey trying to BQ in the first place. It was all to answer the question: "What am I capable of?" For better or worse, that question is never fully answered, and the journey is never-ending.

This week is my spring break, which has afforded me time to recuperate physically and mentally. I'm climbing 5 days here at the Red River Gorge, and it feels great to get vertical again. I have climbing goals too, and look forward to really investing in those, but I cannot escape wondering what else I can do on my feet. I will likely give another hard effort at the Country Music Marathon in just 6 weeks. I'd like to lower my BQ time to increase my chance of being admitted to Boston. Who knows? Maybe I can go even faster ;) This time I plan on running more consistent paces and holding back for the first half. Hopefully, I will have some plans for next April in the northeast!