I can safely say that after my marathon, I did NOT keep running. I went to Austin for work where I made a gluttonous pig of myself and discovered my very favorite beverage--the "Mexican Martini." so, although I didn't run, I certainly was not contemplating my race. I did jot down some notes on my memo pad that I carry with me everywhere, but I have not yet actually compiled all of my thoughts and comments into one written place. (I wish I had an ipad to jot things down on whenever they sprung into my mind, but I do not...yet.)
Now, as I approach my second marathon--one with a nerve-racking 5-hour time limitation--I want to look back at my first race and see what happened, as best I can remember: What went wrong, what went right, and what I could do better.
Phase 1: "Gather/write down everything that happened on the day." (& the evening/day before) "What you ate pre- and mid-race. What you drank and when. The conditions, including winds and temps pre- and during race. The gear you chose and why. The pacing strategy you set upon and how it played out. The “decisive” point in your marathon where you either hit the wall or broke through it. You emotions pre- and mid-race."
*and*
Phase 2 (in red): "Analyze. Using a different color pen, review all the data and make notes on things you would do differently now in hindsight. You should have alternatives or notes for almost every single item on the list; if it was perfect, then circle that item to make it easier to find in the future. Do your best to critique your race from an external viewpoint; if possible share it with others to get their feedback and input on areas you can seek improvement."
The evening before:
Typically stressful drive from my office in D.C. to Catonsville to pick up Cassie, then to Baltimore to pick up our race-day packets, then back to Catonsville for dinner (Italian--spaghetti with white clam sauce...delicious), then back to Cassie's, shower, laid out all my race-day stuff, reading in bed, bedtime. A long evening and a lot of car time, but not bad. I would not really do much differently the night before, except maybe take the enitre day off work because I hate leaving work feeling rushed and frazzled. Fortunately, my boss is a runner so he understands more than the average boss might. Cassie and I had a great, relaxing evening. I had a filling, carb-loaded dinner (spaghetti & clam sauce night be a tradition/good-luck meal now...I've had it before two successful races now.) and I got plenty of rest. Some races I've run and the night before only gotten a few hours of sleep (thanks, Disney for making me wake up at 3am) but this was about as perfect as it gets, sleepwise!
Race-Day morning:
Woke-up, did my normal morning routine (brush teeth, insert contacts, wash face, apply sunscreen, etc.) I ate left-over spaghetti and clam sauce, Gerber Banana-Baby Food, and Lemon-Lime Gatorade. Then I put on race-day outfit, packed up back with lots of "just-in-case" items, headed out. Cassie didn't want coffee, but I needed some sweet Colombian nectar, so we stopped at 7-11 on the way to the lightrail station. (we took the train because parking during the race can be (& was) a nightmare.)
I had my bag to check, that I was still trying to organize on the train, a big Gatorade and a coffee, so I had my hands full. Hydrating....
It's hard for me to get ready in the morning, period. (Probably why I'm chronically late to work.) But it's harder still if I'm extra-nervous anyway. I felt flustered and discombobulated, like it was the first day of school. I also had THREE different bibs to pin onto myself (my pacer-group bib, the "Full" bib, and my actual running bib with the timing chip sewn in.) I wasn't sure how everything would fit, so I ended up having to put on and remove my shirt several times and adjusting all the bibs. Time-consuming and annoying, I definitely should have checked that situation out the night before.
This was also the first race I've ever run in which the timing chip is on my bib, not my shoe, so I had to be extra cautious not to bend/break the timer-device.
I ate a LOT, compared to what I normally eat for long runs, but there were still several hours until race-start and I knew I'd need the energy. I started buying banana baby food when I began traveling to races and realized how regular bananas don't travel well. Now it's a ritual/tradition of mine.
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| There are a LOT of pictures of us before the race, because we didn't know where to go and ended up walking a lap around Camden Yards completely unnecessarily & the photographers kept snapping us. Oops!--just tack that on to our 26.2! |
What I wore:
Booty running shorts, my "Team Sparkle" skirt, my regular running tank-top, our homemade Natty-Boh race-day shirts (with my three friggin bibs), knee socks--no strategy here, we specifically dressed to look cute. I also had my running sleeves (men's socks that I have cut the toes out of), my fanny-pack and a running headband that was severely unattractive but very functional at keeping away the fly-aways.
My running sleeves look ridiculous but are absolutely essential, as I am in the "Excess Sweaters of America" club. my booty shorts were ok, but they didn't have any pockets, which would have been nice. And I did feel like I was baring a lot of excess thigh & cheek as I ran and that made me uncomfortable. Also, I was worried that my thighs would start rubbing together and chaffing, so around mile 5 I ended up grabbing one of the popsicle sticks with vaseline on it that the medical volunteers hand out on the course. Big mistake! My thighs were sticky the WHOLE rest of the race. My skirt kept sticking between my legs too and sequins would be coming off all over my legs. (bad idea/gross/not comfortable....ick!)
What I carried: Spare bands for my ITBS knee, aspirin, aleve, band-aids, extra safety pins, body glide, my camera, chapstick, GU, my ipod. I don't think those silly ITBS bands do a gosh darn thing to help anyone run, but I carried them as a security blanket. Other than that, everything was either essential or tiny (safety pins). My camera ran out of batteries around mile 13 and after that I was annoyed with having to carry it, but if it'd worked, I would have been thrilled. Thank goodness I had packed a travel-sized body glide, because around mile 17 my cute tee-shirt started really rubbing under my arms. The body glide helped like magic, but if I didn't have it, it would have been unbearable! This race I'm considering not running with a fannypack. I've never ever had to use my assortment of bandaids and safety pins, and it's heavy and annoying. I do really like to have the items with me for peace of mind though, so we will see...
Race Day Conditions: Weather-wise, it was beautiful and sunny but the wind was killer! (20-30 mph winds.)
That wind was incredible!! I thought I had a bad sunburn after the race and was surprised bc I'd covered myself in SPF. Then, I realized--it was windburn. I had Bob Seger's "Against the Wind" playing in my head along much of the back half...I was not prepared, but I don't know what I could/would do differently. Any suggestions? I've been training in the wind, against my will, lately, so maybe that will help?
Pacing Strategy: Basically none. Start slow because the first five miles were all uphill. Then, just keep going until either I finish or I can't go anymore. I think Cassie and I worried too much about the uphill in the beginning. Looking back, the beginning is where you WANT the uphill: You have the most energy, and you're just warming up, so you're naturally moving at a slower pace anyway--at least I am. After about three miles, I always tend to speed up naturally. For the National, I actually am going to time myself on my stopwatch and see if I can take better advantage of downhills and flat roads to make up time. (Although the National isn't going to be as hilly.) Also, I will (knock on wood) hopefully not be concerned about my IT Band as much as I was in Baltimore.
Notes & comments: I was very nervous before the race and I was just hoping to finish. The week preceding the race, I compulsively combed the blog-o-sphere reading people's personal experiences who did not finish their races or had to drop out. (ADVICE: Don't do this! It's torture. It's like constantly checking on your ex-boyfriend on Facebook. Just focus on YOU. This is your race and your experience, so you cannot compare it to other people's races.) I'd told so many people I was running it and I did NOT want to drop out. I was worried about my knee because I'd been having problems with my IT Band since Labor Day weekend and running any distance longer than 1.5-2 miles had been causing me pain since then. Cassie and I had done a 21 mile long run about three or four weeks before the actual race and by the end of it, my knee was absolutely killing me. I had gone to see a doctor, and nothing was broken or anything, so that made me a little less anxious, but I was concerned that, before I hit 26.2 miles, the pain would become too crippling to continue and I'd have to stop running completely. (ADVICE: Go to the doctor if you're concerned before the race. Always better to know, rather than take a chance of injuring yourself further.)
My main "pacing strategy" if I had one was "Don't stop until you absolutely have to," because, if I had to walk the last few miles, I wanted to get as far as I possibly could before I had to stop. Cassie was nervous too because she had also had some IT Band issues, but she seemed more confident than me that we would finish. (ADVICE: Have confidence!)
The first half of the race went perfectly fine, a bit slow, but that was good...I wanted to go slower in the beginning in order to not wear myself out too soon. Also, I didn't have a watch or a gps, so I was not paying any sort of attention to my time. This was my first race in a while that the clock wasn't shown ticking at every mile. I'd been taking that for granted. (ADVICE: Wear a watch, so you have some idea what time it is and/or how much time has past....Cassie had one, but once we got separated, I was clueless.) My knee started hurting right on queue--about 2-3 miles in, but it was the same pain--not pleasant, but not unbearable. I could definitely keep going.(ADVICE: Keep going and don't give up unless you absolutely must!)
Around Mile 12, we stopped to go to the bathroom. I didn't need to, but we figured there was no line, so we better go. (The half marathon had just started, so we assumed the last half of the course would be much more crowded.) (ADVICE: Don't stop to pee, unless you have to...precious minutes wasted.)
After that, things started to unravel a bit. Cassie started having real pain around miles 12-16. Miles 12-14 are the flatter parts of this very hilly course, so I was hoping to make up some time here, but we kept having to walk it out. Her hip kept bothering her--cramping up, I think, and she kept having to slow down or stop. This was worrisome, because every time I stopped running, my knee stiffened up and it was more and more painful to start again. (Walking can make things worse--you know when you're wearing uncomfortable high heels someplace and then you take them off under the table, but you need to put them back on so you can leave a party? It's 1000X worse trying to put them back on again, right? That's sometimes what trying to run is like after too long a "walk-break.") We were only halfway through and I was worried my knee wouldn't make it unless I kept running. Then, worse than cramping, Cassie had a crisis of confidence. I firmly believe in mind over matter, and I was worried she would not be able to push through any pain she was having if she didn't believe she could. She hit that metaphorical wall all running-writers warn you about. (ADVICE: Have a "Just in case I hit the wall Mantra" prepared like "Start Strong, finish strong," or "No struggle, no progress." A close friend of mine used to call me "Killa Mike," mainly because he always forgot the first half of my name, but he gave me my mantra: "I can do this because I AM KILLA MIKE." Simple, but effective.)
I tried to help--I kept telling her things [I thought] were motivational or inspirational. We played some word games to try to make the time go by faster and get her mind off the pain. We stretched, we slowed down, we walked. But I was worried that, if I kept stopping to walk, I'd never make it through myself. This was the "decisive" point in the race. I just had to keep going. I left Cassie behind, hoping she would be okay. I felt like a terrible friend and a bad person, but I couldn't imagine struggling through the next ten miles stopping and walking frequently. I kept telling people that my "twin" (we had matching outfits) was right behind me and she needed some extra cheer when they saw her come. But still, it was hard. We had run our first half together a year prior in the exact same race on the exact same weekend. We'd finished the race together holding hands and we both got a little emotional! So, it was really sad when I realized that we weren't finishing this one together. People had warned me/us how hard it is to try to keep pace with someone for 26 miles, but it was much much harder than I imagined. (I'm still not sure about this...I will see how I do next weekend when I run a Full Marathon on my own. It's so much harder to stick together through a full than a half. I think next time, it would be better now that we know we might lose each other, and that is OK. And, most importantly, have fun during the race. It should not be a day of torture, it should be a fun leisure-time recreational activity. ADVICE: Enjoy it!)
At the end of the race, I felt mixed emotions. I was happy to be finished, but I was also exhausted and stiff as a board. I was also annoyed, because after I finished, all I wanted was some ice to sooth my aching knees, and the medical tent at the finish line didn't have ice. (Really?? No ice after a 26.2 mile race?) They said I had to go to the "main medical tent," because after running 26.2 miles, wandering through crowds of people searching for the mysterious and elusive "main medical tent" is exactly what I want to do.
I felt super-guilty that I had left Cassie behind. I tried, unsuccessfully, to pick up her stuff from bag check. then I waited for Cassie to finish--luckily, she was only about 15 minutes behind me. We snapped a few pictures and then met up with her husband to go out and celebrate. There were no hard feelings, but that didn't stop me from feeling bad about it. It would have been nice/more special to finish together, but I'm glad that we both finished (at all) and did our first race together.
Phase 3: Strategize--what to do next time?
Eat well--again
Try on your top with race bib, undergarments & everything else the night before.
Wear a watch!
Carry less. (no ITB strap, less GU....possibly no fanny pack??)
Do not use the vaseline at the medical tents. It is gross.
Will not stop to pee, unless it's absolutely necessary.
Enjoy my race MORE because (hopefully) I will not be as nervous. (Probably lying--I will still be nervous. Maybe more so because of the time constraints.)
Phase 4: Execute--put changes into action
I'm not sure how much change I can put into action right now. I've varied my training a bit, but not drastically. My longest run was 18 miles...shorter than the one for Baltimore, but closer to the race by two or three weeks. Other than that, I think I have to wait until my actual race day to implement significant changes. I would like to be carrying less body weight in ten days--when the race actually is. I think that is possible. I'm not sure how much of a difference that will make, but having to transport less weight means expending less energy, so it could be a good change. Race day is when the changes will really be notable....I'll let you know how it goes.Cross your fingers for me!
Has anyone else done this exercise? Any good advice/suggestions/race day traditions?
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| The End. |
