Sunday, October 13. 2013
Mohawk Hudson Marathon:
Before I reflect about what went wrong, what I did wrong, I will just start from the beginning.
I woke up that morning in plenty of time to eat breakfast, foam roll and get everything together. My dad drove Abby and me to the start around 7:30 a.m. As we got out of the car, the thermostat read 57 degrees.... When we got there, we dropped our bags and went on a light warm-up to get things moving and find a bathroom. I ended up stealing a roll of TP from the ARE van thanks to John because surprise, the line for the port-a-potties was ridiculous. At the start line, I spotted out the girl NOT to follow, knowing she would go out super fast. Abby's plan, which was a 1:26 first half was similar to mine so we planned to run the first half together. With us, was Nicole Blood, who had never run a marathon. It seemed easy, we chatted for the first 8 miles and didn't think anything of it. However, it was too fast. NONE of us were going to run anything close to even splits and I knew by mile 7 the damage was already done.
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| Just after mile 8 |
I took a lot of water, 2 cups of each station, one to drink, the other to throw over my head. We went through the 10k in 39-mid. Too fast. I never took a gatorade, why would I need to I had gel. I took my gel as planned at mile 6 and 11. Around mile 10 Nicole took the lead, taking off in 6:15 pace... I was not going with her. I stayed back, Abby eventually decided to go around mile 11. Mile 12 I knew, this was going to suck. I was now by myself and had gone out too fast. I tried to slow down once Abby passed thinking this would help me. Nope, it hurt me, my hips tightened up terribly. As I was making it up the hill to mile 13, I realized how hot I was and how heavy my singlet felt, I threw it off to my friend, Jess. Mile 14, I saw my parents. As soon as I passed them I kept thinking I should have threw in the towel there, my legs are so tight. I kept trucking... I had no choice. At one point I thought it wasn't so bad, I was still running well under 7's and I was almost to mile 16... oh wait that was just the mile 15 mark. That was a huge bummer. I finally did get to mile 16, where I was scheduled for my next gel. I couldn't stomach it. I opened it and babied over the next mile. Coming up to the train tracks I hoped to get in a mile around 6:40 with the downhill, but unfortunately I was about 12 seconds slower. This wasn't going good. Miles 18-20 were endless. I started to become absolutely drained, I felt like I was dead, my stomach was hurting and I was done mentally and physically. I just didn't feel right and honestly didn't think I would finish. My parents were at mile 20, which I knew, and there they were, I could finally see them in the distance. My mom was ready with a change of shoes in case I needed them (I still have issues with my right foot) and a gel. I looked at them and just said I was done, stepping off the course. They were shocked. Never once in my life had they seen me quit anything, especially something I was so prepared and ready for. Something I had dedicated the past several months to, training harder than ever before, running my fastest times ever leading up to this race, and logging the most miles in my life. I was done. I quit. I was at 2 hours and 14 minutes, the exact same time I was at during my last marathon at mile 20, the difference, I wanted to be at 2:10 by mile 20 for this marathon and I felt awful... I was totally okay with it at the time and had no idea why. I sat down for awhile, noticed my bloody shoe, and eventually decided to get up and head to the finish line. I looked down the road and noticed that I saw Crystal's singlet in the distance. I grabbed a water, my mother saved for me at this point, and ran it to her. I was moving. I was seeing straight. I was okay. I could have jumped back in the race and ran to the finish with her, but it never crossed my mind at the time because all I knew was that I was done and had dropped out. I got in the car, changed into dry clothes and we drove to the finish line. When I got there, Mike, who finished second, started asking me what was going on and telling me about his race. It was then when I started to fade and realized I couldn't stand there anymore. I made my way to the final stretch and found myself on the grass... and then I puked. I then found a couple friends and Kristina, who knows better and was thinking much clearer than I, told me I needed to get in some calories and went to get me gatorade. I puked again. I tried to sip the gatorade, but just couldn't. She made the executive decision that I should go to the medical tent. I didn't think I needed to, but agreed because she was so stern on the matter. As I stood up, she held me tightly, I remember thinking, why is she holding me so tight, then all of a sudden, everything... BLACK. I could hear, I could hear my mom approach us, I remember seeing Drew, maybe he was there before it went black, but they got me in the med tent. After spending sometime there and getting some fluids, they let me leave. I made it to my parents and went over to the grass. And then, puke x 3...or 4... I don't know. It was bad. I didn't care to find a garbage, I just started puking in the middle of everyone. Abby reminded me I still hadn't gotten my bag that I checked at the start of the race. She helped me over (she was the one that actually finished the marathon) and we got our bags. A few feet later, uncontrollable vomiting. She took my stuff, I just wanted to go home. We made it over close to my parents, when again I puked, for some reason this time I went for the garbage. My friend, Dave, who had already witnessed my prior vomiting episodes looked at me and said "back to the med tent". He walked me over. This time they desperately tried to get an IV in me, every time they got a flash, the vein collapsed. I took some Zofran and laid down. I couldn't stomach anything. Awhile later, I finally convinced Todd (the race medical director) to let me leave. I promised I wouldn't return! My dad had already left to bring Abby to our house and my mom was waiting for me outside the tent. We walked over to the parking lot, where I sat in the shade until my dad got there.
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| Bloody shoe! |
The next morning. I was pissed. Why did I let them dictate my race, why did I go out so fast, it doesn't matter how easy it felt, 6:20 pace is too fast for me! Why did I continue to have stomach issues, and why do I always get hyponatremia during MHM?!? 2 years ago a similar situation occurred where I overdid the water and couldn't form any salvia afterwards to swallow a thing, my pulse crossing the finish line, 60.
I went out for a 2 mile run and changed my mind. When I dropped out the day before I told my parents, I had done enough marathons, I really like the half, I wasn't upset, I had a great year, I didn't need another marathon for awhile. Well I impulsively changed my Houston half entry to the full a few hours later. Then the next day when I realized I qualified for the elite field at California International Marathon with my half marathon time, I signed up for that. So now what?!!?!?
CIM December 8th.
I have been ridiculously sick with a cold/URI this past week and a half, which hasn't made training fun. I had an endoscopy last week and a biopsy confirmed that I don't have Celiac's disease and can eat all the bread I want! However, this doesn't help answer my iron issues...
Regardless of what happens at CIM I will finish. Even if it means I say screw the 2:53 dream for 2013 and even if that means I don't run a PR! I will run my race as planned and not go out too fast. I am going back to my original gel I used for my last marathon (sorry honey stinger) and taking gatorade if I need to, which means I will practice with some fluid other than water during my long runs leading up to CIM. My friends are done marathoning and it is getting dark and colder out, so it is hard, but hopefully with the NYC marathon this weekend, I will find it very motivating!!!
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