Saturday, April 13, 2013

Some Goals Are Closer Than Others



It's Marathon time, again.  This makes race number four for the year.  Today is an important day, not only for the ridiculous amount of time spent training for a marathon, but this is the first race for CT to potentially qualify for the Boston Marathon.

There's no possibility for me to qualify, unless I'm able to use a bike.  I say that, but then a training run happens, like last week.  Some days something just clicks, I didn't intend to push it, but somebody in the run group wanted to do a pace run, so I figured what the heck, I'd man up and keep him company.  What happened?  I ended up crushing my previous best half marathon time.  On a training run.  How fast was it?  The pace I ran, suddenly it would be good enough to qualify for Boston, if (big if) I could do it for another thirteen miles.

Here's where the dilemma starts.  Suddenly, there are three options on how to run this marathon.  Do I pace CT?  Making sure she's at the pace she needs to qualify and be there for encouragement if she needs it.  Do I run my own race, shoot for the goal pace I set for myself last year and just missed?  Or do I attempt the impossible and also try to qualify?  That run last week has me wondering.  I know it's beyond stupid to even contemplate trying, but what if by some magic whatever got in me last week is still around?

Race morning, the temps are in my sweet spot.  Will this be the day?  CT has been excited for this day for the past couple of nights, unable to sleep.  How do I feel?  I can't say it's been there every good race I've had, but most good races it's there, the distinct feeling of something extra.  What the hell is this extra?  Maybe it's confidence, maybe it's magic, but it whatever it is, I just knew I was going to have a great run.  Well, today, I don't feel it.  I suppose I'm a little disappointed, but that's how it goes.  Without it being there, the dilemma is now reduced down to two choices.  Actually, the choice has already been made.  Thinking it over, I decided that it would mean more to CT to reach her goal completely on her own, if I did it by her side, then it becomes potentially I helped.  I don't want that, this accomplishment means so much and takes so much, it's only fair the person doing it gets full credit.  CT is running her race and I'm running mine.

It's cold standing behind the start line.  I find myself annoyed because this will probably be the only marathon that I'll ever run where the temperature is in my sweet spot and I'm missing the feeling.  Months of training and it comes down to hit or miss if it's going to be there.  In early blog posts, I made mention of important the morning bathroom visit is, well, the feeling is next most important.  Snapping out of my pre-race haze, the announcer says something about getting the course re-certified.  That's odd.

Toot goes the horn (yeah, it wasn't feeling it today either).  The first mile I tailed CT.  Hey, I said I wanted her to do it on her own, not that I wasn't going to keep my eye on her!  Really, I wanted to make 100% sure she wasn't going to start out too fast.  8:28, right where she should be.  As I passed her, I gave her 3, 4, 0, signals on my hand.  She had no idea what I was trying to say and yelled at me to look where I was going instead of turning around to look back at her.  It was suppose to mean I'll see her in 3:40 (which is her qualifying time).

At mile four, something changed.  Though I hadn't run the marathon here before, I had run the half marathon.  That day, I was out of my mind, but I distinctly remember crossing this street, not turning down the one I just did.  I second guessed myself, until one more turn had me in a residential neighborhood.  This definitely did not happen last year.  What is going on?  Next thing I see is a mile marker for mile 6 and mile 20.  That's weird they are going to loop us in this neighborhood again.  I'm convinced running, while running, makes the mind very slow because I didn't figure out what was really going on until about mile 10.  At this point, a turn was made on the original road that I remembered crossing last year, only to see a turn around point, but also a completely flooded road.  Ahhh, that explains the course change.  The full ramifications were still coming though, at mile 11, smack dab into the 10K runners heading back to the beginning of the course.  Now, I wouldn't complain, if I could get credit for running a marathon when only doing a half, but as some cruel trick would have it, marathoners got turned one street before the finish line to do the entire loop just completed, again.  Oh and it gets better, just about the moment I got back to the original starting point, toot goes the horn and here come all the half marathoners flooding the street all around me.  Had I been trying to qualify for Boston, I'd be very pissed that I'd have to fight two other groups of runners.  Luckily, I wasn't, but I definitely felt bad for CT.

Mile 16, I was getting warm enough to be uncomfortable, so off came the long sleeve.  Not great, but I still felt pretty good.  Mile 20, I got a little slower and began to get tired, but the wall hadn't shown it's ugly face. At this point if I could just maintain, I'd finish at exactly what I had been training for. I even smiled as a passed a few runners who had started their battles with the wall.  Maybe, just maybe I could get all the way through a marathon without crashing!

Mile 22 is where the struggle started.  While not feeling that I wanted this morning, this is the sure sign I made the right decision not to push my limits.  The current feeling, is the signal running is over.  It started with walking through the water stop.  As soon as I slowed down, it only took seconds for my calves to flood with lactic acid and begin to scream.  This was a new feeling, it felt like a surge of pain.  I think this is the point I really first looked at my watch.  Bad runner math and all,  even with four more miles, I was confident I could still get my PR and my under 3:30 goal that I wanted last year.

Mile 25, a glance at my watch and finishing under 3:30 was in serious jeopardy.  Even though I trained to run harder and faster at the end, there was nothing left in the tank.  My legs hurt, but seeing the clock roll from 3:29:59 to 3:30:00 with twenty feet to go felt like a dagger.  Crossing the line, stopping my watch, I didn't even want to look at it.  I hadn't started right at the front, my only hope now is that I started far enough back to safe me some time.  I didn't dwell on it, I couldn't dwell on it, my legs were on fire!  Okay, the pain in my legs is officially worse than finishing 3:30:01 and for me to say that, I think it should be obvious how bad my legs hurt.  

Fighting through the pain and cramping, it was everything I could do to get my jacket back on and get situated where I could see CT finish.  No suspense, no build up, no need, before I could barely get ready to watch for her, there she goes!  I could see the clock and it was 3:36!  Not only did she do it, but she crushed it!  I don't even want to admit it, but she was on my heels!

Insert the crying hug from the previous blog post here, although this time I'm the one crying more.  I'm so proud of her, yet I'll admit it here, our hug was long and I wanted it to end because I could barely stand up!  Thirty seconds after qualifying for Boston, CT is reduced to massaging my calves in her moment of glory.

When the dust settled, I squeaked out my goal.  I should be ecstatic with that, but I'm not.  I was very confident I'd be able to do a low 3:20.  Knowing I lost all that time in the final four minutes is tough.  Not sure if it can be explained as easy as just not my day, needed more training, or if it's simply the limits of what my body can do.  Even though I've got some work to do, CT's ticket is stamped!

It seems silly, but I want to congratulate the Green Mambas.  They have gotten me to every running goal I've set for myself.  In a year's time, they own every running PR I have.  They have aged, got plenty of miles on them, and although aren't as bright as they used to be, I love them. The morning of race day, even though I had my newer pair with me, it didn't seem right to lace up anything but the Mambas.  I have so many good memories in them, two best buddies, just going out for a run.  

Not sure if I ever put it in writing in this blog, but I have verbally stated it before, marathons will be done when CT qualifies for Boston and I run under 3:30.  Chances of that happening?  Reread the title again.