Spoiler alert – I did not complete the marathon a couple of weekends ago. In fact, I did not even attempt it, and made a game time decision during the race to switch to the half. Disappointed is an understatement of how I felt after that half on Sunday, I was crushed that I did not get to chase the 2-decade old PR in the marathon, which I was confident I could break. The decision not to do the marathon, albeit a hard call to make, turned out to be the right one since my body was more wrecked after the half marathon than it was after my 50k this past November. This could not have been clearer to me as I was upchucking in a bag on the drive home (a first for me, super fun times), and I could not actually eat anything of substance until Monday morning. I think I slept nearly 15 hours when I got home that Sunday, the day was a shitshow pretty much from start to finish. But it wasn’t all for not, I gleaned so much from putting this race on the docket and attempting to chase that PR.
About a week and a half before the race, I finally decided to go to the doctor, I had been dealing with some coughing and congestion since the arctic blast weekend over Christmas. I know my body well enough to know that if mucus stays too long in my sinuses, it will eventually wander down into my chest and sit there. By the time I went to the doctor, I was still dealing with sinus congestion, my ears hadn’t cleared in a week, and I had developed chest congestion (sure enough!) with a cough that had become deeper, yet I still couldn’t get the crap out. I told the doctor I had had some good days too, and had been taking some over the counter meds, so I might have been on the up and up, but the cough was concerning me and I had a race in a week and a half, so I wanted to get it checked just in case. After listening to me she said that it sounded like I had the start of bronchitis. Oh shit. A week later I was at a different doctor’s office still not feeling great, and wanted to make sure my lungs were clear for race day. A chest x-ray later and the doc confirmed my lungs were clear, I could run, enjoy the day, although she recommended not to necessarily red-line it since my body was still fighting illness. And can I just say I walked out of that facility feeling like a million bucks, every doctor’s visit should be exactly like that. The x-ray tech was an athlete, and we discussed the triathlons in our area; the doctor, I had taught her kiddo the past couple of years, and I immediately felt better seeing a familiar face, I had been so stressed to still be fighting sickness right before race day. She put me at ease, and I was so grateful to have her as my doctor that day! So after the incredible visit I felt hopeful my body would still be ready to go race day!
Race weekend was upon me, and even waking up Saturday I did not feel quite right. Slight headache, took some Tylenol, kept hydrating. By the time we got to Houston, the headache had gotten worse, pretty sure it was getting close to migraine status. By that evening I didn’t even feel well enough to really eat, went to bed early, hoping and praying I would wake up feeling at least just a little bit better. I did not. Head still throbbed, I still felt sick. Ate a couple of bites of yogurt, a couple of bites of apple, and that’s all I could do. Considered not toeing the line at all, I felt so bad, but that made me so sad to not even give it a shot. So I put on all my gear and headed to the start line. This race always has the best energy, I could feel all the good vibes around me, decided I would run until I couldn’t, I would take it mile by mile, and it would be a game time decision if I decided to pull the plug. I was not hopeful that I would make it very far, still felt like crap, but I would give it a go. As soon as we started I could tell it was not going to be a very long day for me. My paces were substantially slower than the paces I held during my long runs leading up to this race. But I pushed that aside, and focused on the mile right in front of me. I focused on my form, I focused on taking my hydration and nutrition, even though taking my gels each time caused me to gag, but I forced them down anyway. I was still grateful to be out there putting in some miles, it was so cool to look ahead and behind me, and see a sea of runners in both directions for as far as the eye could see. Everyone out there running together, running for different reasons, but sharing the day, always such a fulfilling and powerful experience. By an hour in I knew for certain that the marathon was a no go, so when the marathon branched off at mile 8 and the half continued straight, I stayed on the half marathon path. I was crushed, I had worked so hard for this day, and my body had refused to cooperate. And it wasn’t even what I had initially worried about that derailed me – yes, still some coughing and chest congestion, but I could breathe, and was not hacking up as much as I had been. It was my head that was killing me, I just felt so sick, my body had already been depleted before I even began. I had a little pity party for the next mile, then decided to try to hit the paces that I was supposed to be hitting during this race for the next 4 miles. The half at this race had been my first half marathon (running the whole thing) post hip surgery in 2017, so I was still feeling some pretty strong emotions in those last few miles. It was a struggle in 2017, those last few miles, and of course I was just coming back, and hesitant about how much I could push. This time I was flying, even as awful as I was feeling the legs were still coming around, and it was exciting to see how far I had come running wise during this last big training block. I had leveled up. The fam was surprised to see me as soon as they did, and I was grateful that they were right there when I finished, I was a mess. Quick post-race pics during/after some tears, then it was time to pack up and head home. I still could not eat anything, had a bite of banana, a sip of chocolate milk, and that was it. The car ride home was the longest ever, and as soon as we arrived I headed straight to bed. I still have no idea if the migraine came on from fighting the illness right up to the race, or I caught something else, but whatever it was, it was no good, and came on at the worst possible time.
It took me a little while to put pen to paper about my report, I was really disappointed in myself – I had put my big goal out there, and I was confident that I had a really good shot of achieving it, and then to not even be in the ballpark of being able to chase it, well, I was crushed. Hubs pointed out that it was just bad timing (was it ever!) and munchkin told me she was proud of me for trying (all the feels in my mama heart on that one), and all of my supportive friends had the best words of encouragement and wisdom, I felt like even though it was a loss as far as not even being able to chase the PR, it was also a win with the experience gained. Later, as I was debriefing with Coach Hillary, we discussed all the quality miles that I had put in during the fall, as well as all of the solid long runs that I nailed my marathon pace miles. My cadence had improved, I just felt stronger on all of my runs, from the easy to the tempo. While this race didn’t go AT ALL according to plan, the training I put in for it remains in the bank for the long haul. I think sometimes the races that don’t go according to plan we toss aside or do not want to really talk about, but those are the ones we usually learn from the most. We can be quick to share all the deets from the highest of achievements, but there is a lesson in the epic failures too. Whether sidelined by an injury, or an illness, or a race simply doesn’t go according to plan, all of the deposits put into the process simply do not vanish, the journey continues. It’s always refreshing to read/listen to a story/blog/podcast that do just that – acknowledge the setbacks, not just the gains. And embracing those disappointments and setbacks along the journey are key, which are just as pertinent to the process as the victories. We should never be afraid or ashamed to celebrate both. I didn’t get it done this time around, and I am disappointed the race did not go according to plan. But I did make some huge gains along the way, leveled up so to speak. The training block leading up to this race was a win, even though Houston itself was a loss. Can’t wait to give the marathon another go in the near future, not done chasing this goal, and looking forward to all the wisdom I am still yet to learn on this journey along the way!!! #gratefulheart
