Things didn’t go quite as I had planned, expected, hoped, or imagined
on Sunday at the Vancouver Marathon.
In fact, if you were to compare the actual race to the goals I had
declared to the ol’ world wide web last Monday,
you would probably think the day was a complete failure.
3:45 – Fail
Sub 4 – Fail
Negative Split – HAHAHAHAHAHA, obviously I was delusional when I
thought that was a possibility, because, well, HUGE FAIL!
On the plus side, my 'no urgent bathroom breaks' goal was a big win!
Anyway, even though looking from the outside in, Sunday’s race could
seem like a bit of a failure, I wasn’t as disappointed with myself as I thought
I might be.
Sure, I came up pretty short on my goals and shortly after the finish
line I probably declared I was done with the marathon distance forever, but
then I found myself lying in bed last night thinking about the Victoria
marathon in October and wondering if I was just crazy enough to do another one.
[Shane, who has officially sworn off the marathon, will be shaking his
head, wondering how he ended up married to a crazy person when he reads that
last sentence].
I definitely learned some valuable lessons on Sunday.
Lesson 1: A marathon is hard. If anyone every tries to tell you
differently, they are a liar.
Lesson 2: 42.2km is a long long way. Like, it’s far. Really far.
Lesson 3: Things can be feeling awesome for 25k-30k, but things can
also change very quickly.
Lesson 4: 10k at the end of a marathon can feel like a lifetime.
Lesson 5: When you pour copious amounts of water on your head to keep
yourself cool, you’ll discover chaffing in all sorts of strange new places (hello butt crack!).
Okay, so I already knew all of those things and they aren’t really new lessons
learned, but Sunday was a good reminder of these truths I suppose.
Also, while Sunday’s events definitely gave me a good scare and worried
me a little for what is to come at TRR this August, it also got me really
pumped to get off the roads and hit the trails.
Anyway, I’m rambling. Let’s get to the race report….
It started well, really well in fact.
I was incredibly nervous when I woke up and the nerves stuck with me
right up until the gun went off. Thankfully, they didn’t get the best of me and
I was able to take the first km or two pretty easy and settled into a nice
rhythm.
I kept the 3:45 pace bunny in my sights and was feeling great. As I
passed the 15km marker my watch was exactly – like, to the second – where it
should have been.
I was feeling strong and happy and like this was going to be an awesome day.
I got a bit ahead of pace just before the half way mark, but I think
that had a lot to do with that huge downhill out of UBC, so I was still feeling
pretty good about my 'smart race, steady pace' goal.
That said, the downhill was tough. More so than I thought it would be.
It definitely took a toll on my wonky ankle (which is the size of a baseball today), and I could feel a real hotspot on
the outer edge of my foot that came back to haunt me a bit later (it turned out
to be a nasty blood blister that somehow formed underneath a callous – weird,
right?), but I was still feeling mostly good.
Anyway, I would say I felt pretty great up to about 25km and then it
was just like my legs stopped wanting to turn over. At that point, I just
reminded myself to keep running, and wasn't too worried about my pace slowing a
bit. I actually still felt pretty good mentally at that point, but in reality the
doubts were probably starting to settle in and plant the seeds for the struggle
that was to come.
Just before 28k, I lost sight of the 3:45 pace bunny and gave in and
walked for a moment up a little hill while I took a gel, but was able to get
back to running again pretty quickly (although, much slower at that point).
My pace really started to fall as I climbed up the Burrard Bridge and
the hotspot on my foot really started to get into my head. It felt like a
dagger every time I stepped down and I was having a hard time ignoring it.
Not long after I got onto the seawall, the 3:50 pace bunny passed me.
Seeing that stupid 3:50 sign trot by me like it was no big thing was a bit of a
blow to the ego. I couldn’t deny it any longer – I now knew I was really
falling off pace.
I tried to keep telling myself to “just keep running” and reminding
myself that it was just a short run left and that 10k was no big deal, but
unfortunately my walk breaks kept getting more and more frequent.
This might be a weird statement, but I wish I could say that I bonked
or that I was hurt in some way, but I think mentally, I just gave in a bit.
Don't get me wrong, everything on my body hurt (my hips and my ankle the most)
and I got a really bad side stitch that I just couldn't get rid of, but I think
that is probably just the way your body is going to feel after 30-35km of
running eh?
Oh, and my ear – I got a really strange ear ache during this time.
Like ear infection style throbbing. Anyone else ever experienced that? Tres strange.
But that’s beside the point. It was mental. I didn’t embrace the pain
and instead, I let myself give in to it (which is kind of hard to admit).
Anyway, needless to say, the whole seawall was a struggle – both mentally
and physically.
I had readjusted my goal time in my mind and now just wanted to get
under 4hrs. It was less than 10k. I run 10k all the time! I actually still
believed I was going to make it until about the 39k mark when the 4hr pace bunny
passed me. I tried to stick with that group, but was fading hard and fast. I
don’t know if you could call what I was doing running. A painful
shuffle/hobble is more like it.
Those final few kms were ugly. I wanted to try and pick up the pace on
the final stretch toward the finish line, but it didn’t happen. The very
gradual false flat uphill kicked my butt. I think I was grimacing the whole way
and am pretty sure I had my eyes closed for longer than I should have. But, you
know, when I actually crossed the line, I didn’t care. I was done. I was happy
to be done, and I actually didn’t feel like a failure.
I crossed the line in 4:06:21.
100/381 in my age group.
484/2145 female.
1486 overall.
I’ll take it.
p.s. The Vancouver Marathon course is beautiful (but tough). The
volunteers and the spectators were awesome, and the weather was amazing
(even if a bit hot). Also, it was hard ~ very hard. Have I mentioned that yet?
given all the stuff you were fighting with during the race, 4:06 is a fabulous time...i only wish i could be anywhere near that! i still clearly remember how tough the last 10k were...i was feeling pretty good att that point but by the time i got to about 37k, it took everything in my power just to keep my legs moving!
ReplyDeletecongrats on a great race!!