I felt a little off in the days right before. Life was chaotic. I won't get into details but a lot of stress, too much running around, and not enough rest. I had a lot of aches and pains, had only gotten in one run all week, and was feeling really under-trained, which in retrospect, I was.
Sunday morning we all got out of the house. Kristie who was running with me had come the night before and stayed over with her husband. (Have I mentioned how fabulous they are? Especially for putting up with me and my stress? Yea, fabulous. Plus, my kids adore them.) It was pouring rain. I mean really, really pouring. But off we went armed with trash bags and many extra changes of clothes. The rain let up by the time we got there. From then on it stuck to a steady drizzle with a lot of mist that sometimes made you feel like you were swimming, but I'm grateful it was that instead of 80 degrees and sunny.
Bathroom lines were crazy long, so much so that we actually missed the start. The race was chip-timed so we weren't stressing necessarily, but it was unsettling. Kristie and I got out of the bathroom and found our supporters who said "Run, they started!" We gave kisses and off we went. At the time, I thought it was nice not to deal with all the anxiety of standing and being jostled by the crowd while waiting for the start, but I think I needed some of the adrenaline that comes from that.
Our delayed start meant that we ran a good part of the race almost entirely by ourselves. We'd pass a few people here or there, but we were mostly by ourselves. I'm not sure this was great for the psyche either. My legs were stiff and hurting from the beginning. I kept waiting to hit my stride, loosen up and feel good. I eventually did for a little bit but my legs hurt way too early on and that weighed heavily on me. I stopped to stretch after a few water stops hoping to loosen them up.
I was trying to stick to my refueling pattern that worked so well in Gettysburg. One honey stinger and a gulp of electrolyte water at every mile marker, plus water from the water stops that were every 2 miles. I got off somewhere in there when there were a few mile markers missing and I think I under-fueled.
The highlight was undoubtedly when we ran past our amazing group of supporters - Kristie's husband, my husband, my two kids, my sister, my nephew, and my mom! They were amazing standing in the rain all day holding their signs and cheering everyone on. Of course the boys decided somewhere along the way that this should have been a mud run. I looked over and saw Elijah covered in mud from the waist down and laughed so hard. Then my mom and Ben ran after us for a little bit shouting with their signs. It was great.
I was so angry at myself for hurting so bad and for allowing myself to stop and walk. But at the same time, I just wanted to curl up and die. Trying to get me through, Kristie was asking what I wanted to have when I crossed the finish line, what delicious meal I was dreaming of indulging in, and I just cried that all I wanted was my husband.
I did finally make it across that finish line with a chip time of 2:46:48. That's a 12:44 pace. I was gasping and wheezing for air and crying for my husband. My kids ran up to hug me, and I couldn't focus or stop crying. I kept telling Chris, "I don't want to" as if I hadn't already finished. It took a while but I managed to pull it together for a few pictures. I didn't feel joy, I didn't feel endorphins, and I sure didn't feel like a super hero. I felt like I got my ass kicked by 13.1, and I felt like a failure for not doing it better.
We went out to lunch and then home. My muscles hurt, but more so it took a while to balance my electrolytes. I had the kids by myself because my husband had a viewing he had to be at. I was dazed for hours. I was freezing and then hot. I fell asleep at the kitchen table doing puzzles with Ben. The room spun occasionally. When Chris eventually got home at 6pm with 2 things of Gatorade, I finally got a bit better.
This was the hardest thing I've ever done. The moment around mile 11 where I lost it, felt like the transition stage of childbirth. I felt so raw, empty, and defeated. I pulled it together to birth my son naturally at home in the same way I finished this race, but neither was the way I wanted to. It's the plague of perfection. After the birth of my son, I spent the first twenty minutes insistently apologizing to my midwives and husband for not doing better, and that's how I feel with this race except the apologies go to Kristie who had to put up with me in those last four miles.
I know, I know. I did it. I finished 13.1. I'm slowly processing it all. There will be bad runs and good runs. This run felt as bad as the 10 mile training run which afterwards I declared to my husband that I never wanted to run again. It felt particularly bad after such an amazing run in Gettysburg. But I did it. I'm proud I finished, but I'm not going to try to make myself falsely feel amazing about the experience or my performance. It doesn't help to make myself feel guilty for not being as happy as I should be. Instead, I'm moving on to my next goal.
I can't thank everyone enough for their support. My husband, Kristie, my mom, my sister, and my kids! My blog readers, Facebook friends, and even an awesome friend of Kristie's whose blog I follow who sent me a card and a shirt cheering me on (Thanks Paula!)! You guys are amazing and have been wonderful.
So who's with me on the PLANKS Challenge? There's chat about it on the blog facebook page. Come join us!
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