Calming Down During the (Taper) Storm

For those of you who’ve known me for longer than about 5 minutes, you know that I’ve had my sights set on Boston for years. And in a matter of DAYS, I’ll be making that dream a reality. For those of you who’ve known me for a little longer than that (maybe 10 minutes), you know that I’ve also had my sights set on a sub-3 hour marathon. I'd be lying if I said I weren't scared shitless. Scared shitless of what? Stumbling. Starting out way too quickly and bonking. Not getting sub-3. Disappointing all of my friends and family who will be watching from Boston and elsewhere. I know they'll all say that it's merely an honor to even toe the starting line. And rationally, I know they're right. But just toeing the line isn't enough. There's that fervor in me to give it everything that I possibly can. Because the reality is that there's no guarantee that I'll qualify again. No guarantee that I'll get a second shot at running Boston. So I have one chance to run the best that I can in the best race in the world. 

Throughout this training cycle, I dealt with Achilles tendonopathy and plantar fasciitis and started doubting myself. Even with the outpouring of support, I was still wondering, "What if I fail and let everyone down?" I started pondering this on one of my runs (go figure), and ended up asking myself, "You have all these people who believe in you. Why don't you believe in you?” My subconscious made a good point. So often, I find myself advising others to stop the negative self-talk. But yet, I can’t seem to take my own advice. 

Dailymile has been a great source of encouragement over the last 3+ years. But this training cycle, I found myself logging on, reading everyone's workouts, and feeling like I wasn't doing enough to get ready. I think this was more when I was injured, but regardless, I was doing just about everything I could do. That never-good-enough feeling never seems to do anyone any good. And so I tried to tune out dailymile as best as I could. I dealt with that injury in February, and managed to log 177 miles in March and have a good experience racing the Shamrock 15K in the rain. 

Toward the end of the race

While my goal of sub-3 is scaring me, I'm also strangely calm. I can't explain it. I remember feeling this way before MCM, and the only thing I could attribute the calmness to then was the feeling like I had already won. I know, I know, it makes absolutely no sense to feel as though you've won before you've crossed the starting line. But all of the love and support I received just made me feel so happy. Plus, I got to catch up with some incredible friends during that weekend. So far, this marathon trip looks like it'll be very similar. I've received so many well-wishes from friends and family, and even tips from a few. I have plans to see friends who I haven't seen in over a year (some even longer). I'll be staying with one of my best friends from grad school (who lives super close to the finish line!). I'll be having pre-race dinner at my cousin's house. But what's most touching is that my mom will be making the 3,000 mile trip to merely WATCH me run. (Okay, maybe she's tacking a family visit onto her vacation plans, but the primary purpose of her trip is to watch me run.) How awesome is that?

Over the last few weeks, I've also received so many words of encouragement from my coworkers. Even they know this is a big deal for me. Now I may have sent them all an Outlook invite with my bib number so that a notification pops up around marathon starting time, but they started asking me about Boston before I did that. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

As the saying goes, "the hay is in the barn." In other words, what's done is done, and I can't do a damn thing to change it. It won't help me any to worry about it either, because that'll just translate to me being a nervous wreck for the next 4-5 days, coming out of the barn way too quickly, and then running out of steam. The level of support I’ve received from everyone is helping to keep me calm during a time that I’d otherwise be ready to jump out of my skin. And that makes me feel like I’ve won, whatever the outcome of Monday’s race may be.

Run of the Irish

Fun Fact #1: Adidas' North American headquarters are located in Portland.

Fun Fact #2: Adidas is the major sponsor of the Shamrock Run, which is the largest running event in they city. (Yes, I'm just as shocked as you that it's not the Portland Marathon.)

Fun Fact #3: I ran the Shamrock 15K (there's also an 8K and a 5K).

The race started at 7:30, but because I'm a nut, I set my alarm for 5:15. Of course, I hit snooze a few times, and it dawned on me around 5:45 that I had to get up for this race. Despite my idiot move error, I still had time to eat my pre-race millet porridge and do my dynamic warmup.   

I arrived around 7:15, and my first thought was, "I paid money to give up sleeping in on a Sunday? #runnerprobs". It was freezing around the start (about 41, felt like 36), and the first time since last year's Shamrock Run that I opted to race in tights.

I saw my friend Jeff enter the starting corral, and chatted with him before the start. After the US and Irish national anthems (yes, they played the Irish national anthem), the race started. I had planned on shooting for an average pace of 6:40-6:45. Due to bottlenecking, etc., I hit the first mile at 6:53 (which I expected - the first mile is usually slower than goal). By mile 2, I felt a little more warmed up, and I ran that one was 6:40. Mile 3 brought this gradual uphill through downtown. I knew it was coming, but it still slowed me down (mile 3 = 6:52). At that point, I might've let my nerves/slightly stiff legs/slower pace get the best of me, because my mile 4 split was 7:28 (and the big hill didn't even come until the mile 4 marker). 

Miles 4-6 brought the Terwilliger hill, which I knew was going to be a bitch. 

During the 5th mile:
Jeff: *passes me on my right*
Me (upon seeing this): (to myself: Aw, hell no!) *surge ahead*
Him: I saw that.
Me: Don't think I didn't see you pass me.

He passed me again, then I passed him again, and we were neck-and-neck until the top of the hill, at which point I used that downhill to my advantage. From there on, I told myself that I just needed to beat my official 15K PR (1:04:54; my 15K split from the Chicago Marathon). After mile 7, I told myself, "Only 16 minutes," and after mile 8, "Only 10 minutes." That last mantra also made the nauseating bacon scent easier to deal with. (I kid you not, some guy dressed as the devil was handing out strips of bacon.) Eventually, I saw the finish line and went for it.

My hands were so cold/numb when I crossed the finish line that it took me a few seconds to stop my Garmin (#raynaudsprobs). Got my chip clipped off (yes, despite being such a large race, they still use plastic shoe chips), got my finisher medal, and turned around to see Jeff cross the finish line.

I had the time from my Garmin, but I still wanted the official results because that's what counts. After waiting roughly 6 hours, the official results were posted: 1:04:03 (6:53 min/mi). Overall, I gave it what I had, and this was an 8+ minute improvement over last year, which I'm quite happy about. Furthermore, it was a 53 second improvement from the first 15K of the Chicago Marathon (which was much flatter). Still, I feel a bit disappointed. Disappointed that I let my nerves take over during miles 3-5. Disappointed because based on the numbers, my splits from those miles are what killed me. But the more I think about it, I realize that these are just lessons for future races, and goals for future 15Ks.