That was something....

Well, the Boston Marathon kicked my ass.  Not just like, it was a hard race (which it was) but like it set me on fire, kicked me off a cliff, then ran over me with a truck.  I have never had a harder race in my entire life, and never felt as though it was a miracle that I finished.  Here's a brief re-cap.

Sunday, the 'rents and I leave for Boston.  Dad drives 6 hours with a few food stops along the way.  What can I say? The dude likes to eat.  We get to the expo, and I think all of us were overwhelmed by the amount of people, which turned out to be absolutely nothing compared to the actual race.  We get my  stuff, take the customary pictures, and head off to the hotel.  The rest of the night is pretty mundane, but of course none of us sleep all that great in anticipation of the day ahead.

Monday morning 5:30.  I finally let myself get out of bed after a pretty restless night.  I throw on my racing clothes and throw away shirt, and inhale a bagel and coffee.  A few hours later, I am standing in a corral with my BRF (best running friend) and the field of 5,000 plus people goes absolutely silent.  And not silent like when you just shut out sound in your own head, but silent like we all know this is going to be a long 4 hours ahead of us and we are all a bit apprehensive, but excited about what is going to happen.  Marathons are a strange animal and anything can happen.  The 26.2 gods laugh in your face when you think you have a plan.  Good luck with that one....

Fast forward to the 5k mark.  I am in great position.  Pushing the pace a bit, but at this point, we have spent the last few miles on basically a decline or flat.  I've already lost my friend, so I am just going with it.  10k still in great shape.  Banging out 7:05-7:15 pace and still feeling ok.  10 miles and shit hits the fan.  I feel my body temperature spike and my skin feels like it is burning.  I drop the pace to 7:35-7:45.  I am drinking Gatorade every aid station and also dumping water on myself.  13 miles in kinda shitty shape.  It is just freaking hot.  16 miles and we start a significant climb.  My watch has stopped and I am supposed to be looking for my family somewhere around this area.  I have no idea what my pace is, and I start to panic.  My quads feel like they are just tearing apart, my skin is burning, and I am starting to have tunnel vision from looking for my Sherpa team.  I finally hear my family (before I see them of course, our volume control problem is finally coming in handy) and almost in tears, I hand off my belt pack because it is chafing my skin off under my wet tank top.

20 - 21 miles is Heartbreak Hill.  Well, that wasn't such a big issue, since I was already half running/half walking.  I am at the point where I am trying not to collapse and the medical tents are looking very attractive.  However, I also hear my mother's voice berating me for running marathons if I stop, so I say f- it and continue my walk run.  Mile 24 I see the Citgo sign.  I may have flipped it off.  Now I am pissed.  Not mad because I am not in shape, but pissed that I made some major rookie mistakes.  Going out too fast on a hot day, not breaking in my shoes enough, getting caught in the crowd, I mean really it couldn't have been much worse. 

Mile 25-26 finally turns the corner and heads down Boyleston Street.  I had dreams for weeks of this moment being absolutely life changing and magical, but it wasn't.  It felt like I was absolutely crawling and I couldn't even bring myself to put my hands over my head for the customary Boston celebration picture.  Nope.  Nothing.  I felt nothing.  Even walking over to the medal area and seeing my family, I was glad to see them, but I didn't feel the gut-wrenching pride that I prepared myself for.  Then, we left.  That was it.  Just done.

The marathon is a different animal than any other race, and that day it bit me in the ass.  BUT, there's always next year and now its time to start on the next training cycle, so next time, I bite back.

Are you ready for that race on Monday?

If you have to ask what 'that race on Monday is' you might as well throw out your runner card.  Or burn it.  That race on Monday is the Boston Marathon. Yep.  The big kahuna of races.  Am I ready? Considering it is 4 days away, I better freaking be.  Here are my thoughts about marathon readiness.

1. I have run.  And run a butt-load.  I run when I don't want to, I do laps around the city for 20 mile runs.  I binge on Netflix during my long runs and quality time with my treadmill.  I get up at the ass-crack of dawn or run right after lunch and try not to barf.  Yes.  I have hit the roads and 'mill a lot.  For the running part, yes.  I am ready.

2. I got a handle on my mid-run nutrition.  I learned how to eat on the run.  I have experimented with gels, whole foods, Larabars, dates, drinks, you name it.  I have also done a ton of research, experimented and found out what works for me.  I know that every long race that I hit the wall was because I did not hydrate or fuel properly, so I have come up with a plan (thanks Julie Sparks and @theathletespalate1) to fuel every 3-ish miles or even more frequently.  I also start the race much later in the day (10:30) so I will have plenty of time to front load on some caloric and carb goodness.  I have changed some of my longer runs to reflect the later start time. 

3. Supplements.  I have never EVER really been one to take much in the way of medication, so I was always convinced that taking supplements would somehow break this trend.  Man, I was totally incorrect.  After some suggestions from Julie, my athletic nutrition guru, I realized that not only is my diet B vitamin deficient, I also could use a magnesium supplement, and an inflammation management supplement was not a terrible idea either.  I am still awful at taking pills, but I have really tried to make a concerted effort, and it seems like it's paying off.  Less pain, stiffness, and general feeling of 'funk', so, I guess I am a convert. 

4. Overall nutrition.  My nutrition has never sucked, per say, but it definitely needed some tweaking. I still have the occasional evening binge session of spicy Cheez-its, but I have done my best to cut out the processed foods that were left in my diet. 

5. Gear.  I always act like I don't care about gear, and for the most part, look like a homeless person with a sweet pair of running shoes, so I upped my gear game.  I mean, for God's sake, at least look like you give a crap and try to match.  It's also a great way to show off some of the awesome people and organizations that support my running. 

6. Family.  I am here with my parents, which may get a massive eye roll about 743 times in the next few days, BUT I have given these people a ton of shit.  And like real-deal shit, and for whatever reason, they still speak to me.  My kids and the hubs are staying behind, which is a blessing since I will be freaking the f out and don't want to worry about wiping butts or finding lost matchbox cars.  I am very thankful to have them as my marathon Sherpa crew. 

So, all of the above being said.  Thank you.  To all of you.  I would not ever dream that one day I would have this incredible opportunity.