Marathon Recap, Part 2

Since I really didn't write anything about the actual running of the marathon in my last post, I decided to write about it now, before I forget.

I got to the starting line at about 7:15 and quickly turned on my Garmin. That stupid watch sometimes takes ten minutes to get a signal, so I wanted to make sure it was going to get one before the start. Of course in this instance it found a signal immediately so I had to keep telling it not to go to sleep! I ran about a quarter mile around the block and then returned to the 10:00 pace sign, where I saw Amy C and her husband. We chatted for a few minutes and the chute started filling up. Then my running partner Kat showed up and gave me a pace band, which I thought might be ridiculously ambitious but I put it on anyway. And with that, we were off.

The first few miles were surreal. We held to a little over 10:00 pace and chatted as we ran through the streets of Providence. Those miles were so much fun, so free of pain and so full of conviviality. The race wasn't super crowded, but there were enough people to make it feel like An Event. I stopped to loosen my shoe around the 1-mile mark, since the top of my right foot was already getting achy. As we neared the first water stop, I grabbed a cup and kept moving. Before the race started, I had considered walking through the water stops, but it seemed weird to walk before the 2-mile mark, and we ran on.

We went up some hills and down some hills, and we ran about 9:55 pace. At mile 7, Kat asked me to hold her water bottle while she did something with her phone. I was amazed when she took the bottle back and said "First live tweet from the course!" I can't imagine typing on my iPhone while I was running. That woman is seriously talented. Oh, and she has a broken finger.

Around mile 8, my knee started to twinge. I alternated between running on my midfoot/forefoot and running in my normal style (mild heel strike), and that seemed to help. An older guy named Sean asked if he could run with us for a while, and he asked lots of questions and was really chatty, which helped the time go by. I was worried about my knee, but I felt good about my chances. Around mile 10, my knee gave out a couple of times. I didn't fall or anything, but I definitely felt the twinge and had to catch myself. It hurt to bend my leg, so I altered my stride to push off more from my left toe and landed with an almost straight leg on the bad side. I kept that stride up for the rest of the race. It wasn't pretty but it worked.

Around mile 11 or so, I started walking through the water stations. We were on the bike path at that point, and it was really quiet and nice. Sometime after that, I told Kat to go on. She and Sean had waited for me once before, and I didn't want to be That Girl. The crowds had thinned out, and for a lot of the time it was just me. I kept up with my gels (about every 30-40 minutes) and I alternated between water and gatorade at each stop. Just after mile 14 I stopped to stretch, but that made my knee hurt a lot more so I decided not to stretch again. At mile 15 I decided to walk for 30 seconds at each mile marker as well as the water stations. Normally I hate the idea of walking on a run, but I didn't care. I was going to finish and I was going to conserve enough energy to get there.

I realized my time goals were completely unobtainable, and I shifted to just enjoying the journey. I saw geese and people taking pictures of birds in trees. I high-fived kids. I thanked the few people who were out cheering. I danced past a house where they were blaring the theme from Rocky. I was pretty surprised by how easy it was to let go of the "race" and just enjoy the experience. Usually I'm such a control freak and I'm obsessed with my pace (such as it is), but the experience of the marathon was so much, it busted right through that crap. I knew I could run another one later, without being injured, and try to run faster. But this one, the first one, was special.

At about mile 18 I started cramping up. The worst cramps were in my hips and glutes, but they weren't terrible. As usual, my anxiety over the possibility that they might get worse was itself worse than the cramps. I took more gels and drank more Gatorade. Many of the water tables had run out of cups and were offering big water jugs to people, but I avoided that (could I ever be that thirsty?) and ran on to the next water stops where luckily, they still had cups. I felt a little sad when I realized I was so far back that they'd run out of cups. So far back that people were cheering "You can finish!" I thought, "Of course I can finish. Do I look like I can't finish? I'm fine. You didn't even start! Don't tell me I can finish!"

I kept the cramps at bay with more fuel. I remember at mile 17 I thought "Only 3 more 3-milers to go, and I'm going to do the first one first and think about the others when I'm done." That seemed manageable. As the miles ticked off, I counted down my 3-milers. With 5 miles to go, I thought about my favorite 5-mile route around my house and marked the remaining miles by thinking about landmarks on that course. Now I'm across from the high school track. Now I'm running down the hill by the bus stop. Now I'm turning onto Farview.

At mile 21 I took a gel with caffeine and the little bit of nausea I had went away. I felt pretty strong. I walked up and down the hills and jogged the flats. I smiled at everyone. I was running a marathon.

I had planned to run (i.e., no walking) from mile 24, but my legs felt really sad so I walked a bit at 24 and 25. At about 25.5 I saw my family. Fortunately I saw them from a few hundred meters back so I could have a little cry before I got to them. When I passed them, I grabbed Maple and she ran with me to the finish. Before the race, I didn't think I'd want to run with her, but it turned out perfectly. I felt like I was running so fast at that point, that there was no way she could keep up. But I think I was a little bit confused about my pace, because Maple seemed like she could have gone a lot faster. A bunch of photographers kneeled down in the street in front of us to take our picture as we ran towards the finish. I asked her if she was ever going to run a marathon, and she said yes. And then it was over.

I'm really proud of myself. I'm proud of finishing the marathon. I'm proud of training for it. I'm proud of not giving up even though my body wasn't thrilled and my knee is still killing me. And I'm really excited to do it again.

Marathon Recap

I ran the Providence Marathon yesterday. It was an amazing journey; every mile taught me something new about myself. The outcome was different than I planned, but it doesn't matter. I ran a marathon. And I want to do it again.

What I did right

Picking the race

Back in December when I was picking which marathon would be my first, I really wanted to run the Pittsburgh Marathon. I loved that it was in my hometown, and an 18-week training cycle for the May 6th race would start on January 1. But I also really wanted Sean to be there, and he couldn't take time off work to go to Pittsburgh. So I looked for a race on the same day but closer to home, and I found the Providence Marathon. It was a great choice. I loved the course - quite a few miles on a bike path, not too many hills (but enough to keep it interesting), and plenty of relaxing miles in a quiet neighborhood. I loved that I could recover in my own bed (traveling 10 hours by car for my first marathon would have sucked). And I got to know some great local runners because of the Cox Rhode Scholars (blogging) program, including Kat, who started the race with me, and Amy C who ran the half. And this wasn't under my control, but the weather yesterday was completely perfect: high 50s and partly cloudy. It doesn't get better than that.

Picking a training plan

Being a reader of Erin's blog, I knew I wanted to use one of Hal Higdon's training plans. At first I wanted to do the Intermediate 1 plan, but then I thought about how a) I was in my mid-30s and hadn't been running continuously since I was younger, b) I have multiple sclerosis, and c) I had just recovered from an ankle injury. So I decided to be cautious and do the Novice 2 plan, and I'm really glad I did. The training seemed pretty easy for the first 10 weeks or so, but in Week 14 I started having problems with my knee. If I'd pushed it harder sooner, who knows what would have happened.

Listening to my body (sometimes)

In the last four weeks, I started having problems with my knee, so I did more cross training and less running. I didn't run at all in Week 18, which is probably why I was able to limp/jog 16 miles to the finish.

What I did wrong

Bad, bad taper

Right before the taper, I got sick with some evil New England virus. My doctor wasn't sure if it was a touch of pneumonia or bronchitis. It rocked me. I tried to continue training at a reduced capacity, but I only did 8 miles that week, which was supposed to be my peek weak of the cycle. I should have rested instead of pushing it. And the next week was supposed to be the start of the taper, but I was so insane about doing the 20 mile run that I did it that week instead. Sean told me not to do it but I didn't listen, and that's usually a mistake. Because of the rearranging, my taper was more like two weeks. At the time I had no idea that the little twinge I'd had in my knee at the end of the previous week's 12-miler was going to be such an issue, but I had a really hard time with it on the 20-miler.

I also think I reduced my mileage a bit too much in the last two weeks. I passed the moment of feeling energized and rested about 4 days before the marathon, and I started feeling sluggish and atrophied.

Major diet change

About 3 weeks before the marathon, I learned from a blood test that I am sensitive to wheat, yeast, gluten, soy, and dairy. Since food sensitivities affect your immune response, I wanted to change my diet to (hopefully) keep my MS in check. But it was hard to figure out what to eat, and for a couple of weeks I wasn't eating enough to maintain my weight. I lost about five pounds, which I didn't need or want to lose, and I was always hungry and tired. Not really the right thing for the taper. Fortunately in the last week before the marathon, I concentrated on carbo loading and I think I got enough calories, or almost enough. But it wasn't too smart to switch things up in the 11th hour.

What I learned

I learned so much, and I know I'll be processing all this for a long time. I remember when I had Maple at home, without drugs, I was amazed at what my body could do. In a way it wasn't amazing at all, because having babies is something women are born to do. Training for and running a marathon has me amazed all over again at what my body can do. Having MS, I've learned to trust my body only as far as I can throw it. But now I know I can throw it at least 26.2 miles.

I learned that hard work pays off. I worked hard almost every day and ran 450 miles to prepare for the marathon. I put the time in, I put the effort in, and I finished the marathon. Bam.

The most important thing I learned about myself during this journey of training for and running my first marathon is that it's okay to hope. Even with an incurable degenerative brain disease, it's okay to hope. It's good to hope! I've wanted to run a marathon for years, but I never got the courage to start the journey because that required hope. When you have MS you learn not to count on anything because shit changes all the time. But giving into that is no way to live. Now that I've experienced the power of hope, I can't wait to go out and hope some more.

Almost

The marathon is in three days.

I am resting, foam rolling, stretching. I got bodywork on Tuesday and went to the chiropractor on Wednesday. I bought compression tights to (hopefully) support my IT band. I bought a new tank with a zillion pockets and I sorta kinda broke in some new shoes. I have all my gels for the race. I know which socks I'm going to wear.

Kat and I have been talking pacing. Sean has been making super healthy food and carbo loading me. I haven't been running, but I've done some stationary biking and some elliptical workouts. I'm taking Ibuprofin three times a day. I'm visualizing feeling good at every mile marker.

I'm consumed with thinking about the marathon.  It's like postpartum brain fog. Yesterday at work I said something really stupid in an important meeting because I couldn't figure out the meaning of the phrase "within and between." It was too much for a mind addled with pacing and taping and did-I-run-enough-in-my-new-shoes.

Sometimes I think I'll have no problems finishing this race because I've wanted this for so long, I've worked so hard, and of course I'm not going to quit in the middle even if my knee is screaming at me. And then that stupid old voice says, "But you quit everything." And then I tell that voice to fuck off. I'm not that person anymore.

I think about what mile I'll be in when my IT band starts talking to me, and then I imagine a race completely free of pain. It's wonderful.

My body feels great and I have two more taper days to go. I did almost all 18 weeks of training (except for that one stupid sick week). I am almost ready.

I'm going to run a marathon!