You are here: Home / Archives for BQ

Breaking 3: Mount Charleston Marathon

November 1, 2022 by Leave a Comment

If you’ve known me for long, you know that I’ve been on a quest to break 3 hours in the marathon since 2016. Between a few solid swings (3:03 finishes, multiple times), and then injuries, pandemic, etc – it felt like it would potentially never happen. However, sometimes patience and consistency truly do pay off, and I found myself ready to take my first swing at the marathon since 2019.

My original spring 2022 marathon goal was the Rotterdam Marathon, in The Netherlands. Known for a flat and fast course, with cool/damp weather, it felt like the perfect opportunity to take my chances. Training over winter went really well. I was running 60-65 mile weeks, with one double-run day, and my standard 3-5 days of strength training. No injuries, my speed was coming back – I was excited!

A few weeks before race day (3 weeks, I believe?), I began to panic: COVID numbers were creeping up again, and The Netherlands had just removed any/all COVID precautions. I began stressing about my first overseas trip since 2020 – would I finally get COVID? Would I get sick and get stuck in the Netherlands? To say I was stressing would be an understatement. The furthest thing from my mind was that 2:59, it was all the pandemic stuff out of my control.

I emailed my coach with my concerns, and suggested we find a state-side race instead that more or less fit the timeline. I was just about to knock out my last big week and then taper, so if I was potentially going to change the weekend, we needed to know asap.

After combing my favorite marathon databases, considering weather, course type, field size, accessibility, etc., I suggested the Revel Mount Charleston Marathon. To say that this race was an apple and Rotterdam was an orange wouldn’t do the comparison justice. Mount Charleston begins 7600 ft up, with a 5000 ft drop, with runners finishing outside of Las Vegas. I was considering a change in climate, altitude, and completely different demands on my body. However, I felt oddly confident that my legs could weather the endless eccentric contractions they’d endure on such an unforgiving course.

I don’t think my coach, Jason, was *quite as confident in this sort of course. They are incredibly risky, as legs can cramp or simply have nothing left long before the finish line. I was willing to give it a shot. I’ve raced well on hills – especially downhills. I train on rolling hills, and all of that strength training had to play to my favor.

So it was decided: Rotterdam would be replaced with Mount Charleston. I canceled travel, booked travel, and then we removed the last big week of training and I went right into the taper, because Mount Charleston was a week before Rotterdam.

Marathon weekend began the most frustrating way possible: flight delays that got us into Las Vegas after midnight. By the time we got to the hotel (we stayed on the Strip), and had dinner, it was 3am Friday. After what wasn’t exactly the best quality or quantity of sleep, my husband, Chris, dragged me out of bed and to my shakeout run Friday morning. While the last thing I wanted to do was leave the bed, I’m so glad he forced me to get up. The shakeout run felt heavy, slow and weird – but I felt much better after it.

After the shakeout, we picked up our rental car and drove to the race expo. The expo was easy to navigate, not at all crowded, and a smooth experience. Race day would include both the marathon and half marathon, but the vibe was very “small town race,” in the best way possible.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing, eating carbs, and shopping for throw-away clothes for the race start. Race weather was shaping up to be awesome: low 40s at the start, and then warming up to a sunny 65 degrees at the finish. Throw-way clothes are necessary for staying comfortable pre-race. With having to be at the shuttle bus at 3:30am, we were in bed early – though I don’t think I slept much at all.

My alarm went off around 2am. I told myself that jet lag was on my side. I ate a muffin and a donut with my coffee, and suited up in my race kit. With my throw-away layers on, we walked through the casino to the car. It’s very strange to be walking through the late Friday night Vegas scene, while you’re on your way to a marathon.

Getting to and onto the bus was very easy. The organization of the entire weekend was fantastic. I said goodbye to Chris, and snagged a window seat so that I could close my eyes and relax. Because the Mount Charleston course is a point-to-point race, and course runs through preserved land with few roads, spectators really aren’t allowed access the race course until the 20 mile mark. I knew Chris was going to be waiting for me at the finish. With my eyes closed, I relaxed my mind despite the buzz of nervous runners chatting. I could feel the bus climbing up and up, and as we neared the start area, snow lined the road.

Athlete’s Village was fantastic. There were fire pits for warmth, plentiful porta-potties, and tables with water and electrolytes. Despite getting there early (I’m always early to Athlete’s Village!), the time went by pretty quickly. I decided not to waste energy looking for the other two runners I knew who would be there. Nerves were low: I knew my strategy in pacing and fueling, and felt ready to execute my plan.

A few tips on this race: start slowly. You’re high up, so it’s possible that breathing will feel less than awesome. The course has a few ups in the first mile, so go by effort, allow your legs and lungs to warm up, and be patient. I packed salt pills as a last-minute decision, because Jason and I know I don’t do well in the heat. It was a guarantee that it would warm up, it was a matter of how quickly, and how well I could manage it. I took a pill within the first few miles of the race.

The race organization offers some incredibly detailed videos and breakdowns of the elevation of the race, so having done my homework, I knew mile 6-20 was going to be fast – and to be patient early and to dig deep late. I will caution that if a runner isn’t prepared for downhill running, or gets greedy and hammers this course, they may end up in a world of pain and having a disappointing performance and experience. With it being the desert, sweat evaporates quickly, making it deceptive with just how much one is sweating. Having raced a few times in the desert before, I knew I couldn’t go off of feel.

The race start happened right around sunrise, allowing us to finally see the beauty and drama of Mount Charleston. It was an incredibly picturesque place, and I recall wanting to soak it all in. Whatever nerves I had, and I hadn’t had many, turned to focus and fun within the first mile. It was cool and crisp, and I was happy to have my gloves, arm sleeves and head band on. I knew I’d peel them off as things warmed up, and was confident that my racing briefs and sports bra was the right choice.

With the exception of a few people who live on Mount Charleston, and the lovely volunteers at the hydration stations, there’s essentially no crowd support – just beautiful open space and the sound of breathing and shoes hitting the pavement. I found it peaceful, and dialed in my effort. While this quiet and remote marathon experience may not be for everyone, it didn’t bother me in the least. Perhaps having done much of my training solo over the years, and having done other more rural races, the quiet wasn’t jarring.

The first 6 miles or so include some serious downs, and a few ups. This is where I took a salt pill, and really began to understand how my legs would fair on the course, and what that meant in terms of pacing. For the first 6 miles, my splits were the following: 7:07, 6:30, 6:31, 6:33, 6:47, 6:35. I recall it feeling surreal: the combo of beauty, the hills, and how I felt – mentally I was in the zone, not thinking any more than I needed to, and allowing the miles to click by.

After mile 6, this race gets FAST. I forget the exact breakdown per mile regarding elevation, but the first 13 miles loses 3000 ft, and the second half loses 2000 ft. If the quads don’t die, and form for downhill running is strong, this can be a really fun race!

The following 6 miles felt effortless: 6:22, 6:24, 6:27, 6:34, 6:34, 6:35, 6:39. I reminded myself to never hammer, because risking my quads to bank time is a fool’s errand. Temperature began creeping up, and I was out of the shade of the canyon, exposed to the blue sky and abundant morning sunshine. In this stretch I ditched my arm sleeves and head band, though I held onto the gloves for a bit longer.

Around the half marathon mark, my stomach began acting a *little funky. Maybe it was the salt pill, or that I was getting my period that morning, but I became aware that I might need to make a bathroom stop. However, the stomach issue would come and go, and I decided at the mile 18 water station to be smart and use the port-potty. The splits from miles 14-18: 6:28, 6:33, 6:34, 6:36, 7:39 (porta-potty stop – which cost me about 60 seconds).

In my experience, if you need a bathroom and you take the detour, you’ll feel like a new person for the rest of the race. If I’d continued, stomach discomfort may have messed with my mind and my overall comfort. Well worth losing a minute to feel much better!

As the course nears miles 20, there is crowd support for the first time. This is a welcomed sight, as it was getting warm, and the elevation drop was less noticeable, meaning I had to readjust form and power after so much downhill to find my legs. It was around mile 20-21 that my right big toe became problematic. It felt like one moment I was fine, and the next I was being hit on the top of my big toe with a hammer with every step. I knew I wasn’t injured, but my guess was a blister had formed under the toenail. Between the force into the toe of the shoe, and this being my first race ever in super shoes (Suacony Endorphin Pros), and them being possibly a little on the small side for me, I had a good idea of what was happening.

I tried to be at peace with the pain – it was just a blister! But my form began changing and I briefly debating taking my shoe off and running barefoot for the final miles. Glancing at my watch, I was on pace for about a 2:53 finish – which was insane. I knew that I had to risk that time, and stopped on the course. I took off my shoe and sock, and took one of the pins from my race bib, in a harried attempt to puncture the blister under the nail and relieve the pressure.

A few kind half marathoners saw me, and offered me bandaids, but I politely said that the bandaids weren’t going to be helpful. After digging at my toe with the needle in an attempt to relieve pressure, I put the sock and shoe back on, and focused on moving forward. Splits from miles 19-24: 6:35, 6:41, 6:35, 8:17 (the rogue surgery mile), 7:15, 7:30.

After that little surgical delay, I struggled to get back to my rhythm. The toe was still painful, I could feel dehydration creeping in, and the course leveled out a bit. Plus, the final few miles of the marathon is simply tough! The last few miles took us runners through suburban neighborhoods. Having families out was nice, but boy did I miss the cool weather from the top of Mount Charleston!

In those last few miles, I knew that unless something catastrophic happened, I’d achieve what I’d been chasing for years: a sub-3 hour marathon. Even with paces slowing, I knew it was there. The final 2 miles: 7:17, 6:59, and the last .2: 6:33 pace. There was a little uphill climb in the last mile, which honestly felt like Mount Everest to my legs. The only real turn on the entire course is right at the finish. It felt brutal to decelerate only to try to kick it in!

Official finish time: 2:58:15, and 6th place female.

Honestly, I was in disbelief. It’s really weird to chase something for so long, and then to have it be in the past. If I’m honest, I was actually momentarily disappointed with my finish, because without the bathroom and foot issues, it could have been an even faster day. It’s funny how often our minds go to that sort of place, instead of honoring an achievement.

The finish area was well organized and stocked with snacks. There’s nothing quite like chocolate milk after a marathon. It was 65 degrees and sunny at the finish, so getting in calories and liquid was a priority. It felt surreal to be around runners and crowds after the pandemic. My first marathon since 2019, close to 3 years from the date, and it felt foreign and amazing at the same time. In hindsight, I think the smaller race field at Mount Charleston set me up for success. Rotterdam would have been a very large, big city feel, and could have very easily overwhelmed me after so many years of social distancing.

You better believe I took my shoes off as soon as I could! After finding Chris, I walked barefoot for about a mile to the car. Despite the 5000 ft of damage done to my legs, aside from my quads giving me the indicator that they’d be angry in the coming hours, I felt really good.

Upon arriving back at our hotel, I was finally able to get a really good look at that big toe. The toe nail was black, a huge blood blister was under the nail. I was finally able to fully puncture the blister. Yes, it was disgusting, but it felt amazing to release the pressure. I knew that the nail was already a goner – I could feel that it was disconnected from the nail bed. Despite the pain out there, I’d happily sacrifice a toe nail for a PR!

The Revel Race Series provides free photos from the course, so it was fun getting those within days of the race. As an organization, my experience was nothing but amazing with Revel. Selfishly, I wish the race was a few weeks earlier or an even earlier start time, because it was hot for those final miles. Coming from training in NY winters, 65 degrees and sunny felt like summer. But weather aside, it was pretty near perfect.

In the days following this marathon, my legs were pretty darn beat up. In fact, I don’t recall ever feeling so wrecked after a road marathon. This reminded me of how I’d felt after Ultra marathons in mountains, not a road race of 26.2 miles. I needed more rest and recovery following Mount Charleston than any other marathon I’ve raced. That said, totally worth it!

If you are looking for a beautiful course, a well organized event, and thrive on hills – this may be a great race for you! Note that if you are not trained for hills, or need a big-city vibe, this race is probably not your jam. I don’t regret my decision to change race courses for a second – and the gamble paid off. Deep down, I’d love to go back and race Mount Charleston again – ideally without the toe issue! Could I go under 2:55 on this course? I’m definitely interested to find out.

Filed Under: Blog, Marathons, Racing Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

The Long Run – myths, science, and why not everyone should run 20-milers

July 25, 2018 by 1 Comment

The long run. The cornerstone of marathon training. The weekly run that is essentially “dress rehearsal” for marathon day. It’s the run most runners stress about, and the one that over times builds confidence and endurance fitness. A marathoner cannot be prepared for race day without consistent long runs under their belt, but there’s a lot of opinions, beliefs and falsehoods regarding the long run – especially the magical peak mileage number. It’s important to understand that coaches will have their own reasons for how long they take the long runs, and (hopefully) there’s science-based factors considered. Most non-coaches toss out “20 miles” as the long run distance every marathoner should hit. But I’m going to attempt to shed some light onto the reason for the long run, what mental and physical adaptions occur, the different types of long runs, and why the 20-miler staple is actually not always the correct number. So strap in, cause here we go!

In general, the long run’s purpose is to build endurance fitness, aerobic base, running economy, and prepare the mind for the marathon. Running for hours at a time is physically demanding, but arguably just as challenging to mentally handle. So the big questions and debates for the long run usually come down to pace/effort and distance.

The mileage total should vary per athlete depending on a few things. The natural speed and marathon goal is perhaps the biggest variable. Jack Daniels, arguably the best marathon coach alive, famously recommends capping the long run to 2.5-3 hours across the board. He suggests that a training run lasting beyond that time offers big risk in injury and burnout. Here’s the challenge – depending on the pace of that athlete, a 3-hour run could mean 22 miles or 15 miles. Let’s use three fictional athletes below as an example:

Athlete A is an elite marathoner, with a marathon goal pace of 6:00 minute miles or a 2:37 finish goal. Most long runs should be MGP (Marathon Goal Pace) + :15-60 seconds per mile, so if Athlete A runs a 20-miler at 6:45s, they’d complete the distance in 2:15.

Athlete B is an experience marathoner, with a marathon goal pace of 8:00 minute miles, or a 3:30 finish goal. Most long runs should be MGP (Marathon Goal Pace) + :15-60 seconds per mile, so if Athlete A runs a 20-miler at 8:30s, they’d complete the distance in 2:50.

Athlete C is a marathoner, with a marathon goal pace of 10:18 minute miles, or a 4:30 finish goal. Most long runs should be MGP (Marathon Goal Pace) + :15-60 seconds per mile, so if Athlete A runs a 20-miler at 10:45s, they’d complete the distance in 3:35.

So based on the above, you can see that the 20-miler equals very different stresses on the body. The slower the runner, the more steps and more time one will spend out there, and that equals stress. Athlete C, based on Jack Daniels’ method, should never be running a 20-miler. Instead, it would be recommended that athlete caps the long run to 3 hours, or embraces a double, or other training methods. The mentally hard part: Athlete C would cover less than 17 miles in 3 hours. Most athletes will say they need 20 miles. How can they be ready for a 4:30 marathon finish if their longest long run is 3 hours? The answer is that the long runs don’t stand alone. Runners are going into them with tired legs and additional runs throughout the week. When you add the training up, the taper, the crowd support, ideal weather, etc – the fitness will carry through.

RRCA (Road Runners Club of America) often recommends the 20-30% rule in terms of the long run. The long run distance equals only 20-30% of the athlete’s weekly mileage. This means an athlete running 40-mile weeks should cap the long run to the 8-12 mile range. An athlete running 80-mile weeks finally runs that coveted 20-mile long run. Now, most runners I coach never make it to 80-mile weeks. That’s pretty serious business. But I’d also argue that a decent percentage do run 20-milers. Should they? Well, in my opinion it then goes back to the Daniels theory above. Most runners will not thrive on 80-mile weeks. Though many do run at a pace that allows them to safely clock long runs at or near the 20-mile peak.

Elites like Ryan Hall have been known to clock 26-30 mile long runs. But at his easy pace, he’s still never out there for more than 3 hours. The stress of running for 3 hours versus 5 hours, at an effort that feels 60-70% effort, are two very different stress levels. We also have to consider that someone like Ryan Hall is running 120-140 mile weeks. So for him a 26-30 mile run isn’t a crazy percent of his weekly mileage. It’s unrealistic for us to compare components of our own training without looking at the whole picture.

There are a few different types of long runs, and it’s important to understand them.

Long Slow Distance: The standard long run, where the focus is time on one’s feet to build endurance, practice fueling, and getting acquainted with tired legs. For these runs, pace is usually MGP + :15-60 seconds, or a comfortable/conversational pace. The LSD run can be given by distance or time – for example: run 20 miles or 3 hours – whichever comes first, at an easy effort or MGP + :30 seconds per mile today.

Progressive Long Runs: These long runs are fairly advanced, and start off as a LSD run does. However during the second half, the runner slowly picks up the pace towards MGP. This run teaches the runner how to speed up on tired legs, and break the habit of going out too fast. As one can imagine, this is a higher stress long run than the classic LSD.

Two-a-Days: These long runs are ideal options for runners dealing with an injury or at a pace where a 3 hour runs won’t get them close to a mileage total they feel prepares them for the marathon. Dividing the run between two runs within in 8-10 hours gives the body time to recover and is essentially less stressful than running say 5 hours at once. The second run of the day will obviously happen on tired legs, which is helpful for marathon preparation. However, the two-a-day run doesn’t simulate the marathon, as the marathon will be covered all at once. So there are some clear advantages and disadvantages to this option.

Aside from all of the physical adaptions and stress, most runners feel strongly that they need to 20-miler in their training to feel confident and ready at the starting line. That confidence is incredibly important, and is a good reason why a coach may make an exception to everything above to give that athlete the mental edge. Personally, I know I would have been freaking out if I hadn’t clocked 20-milers leading up to my first marathon. In fact, I capped my long runs to a 23-miler. BUT I also honestly didn’t know what I was doing, didn’t have the resources out there now, or a coach. Knowing what I know now, I’d be willing to accept less than a 20-miler during my marathon training if that’s what was advised. However, even when training for my first marathon, my easy runs were under 8:30 minute miles, so I wasn’t out there much longer than 3:15 on that 23-miler.

It’s tricky to choose what’s appropriate for each athlete. Do we risk injury to give mental edge? Do we prioritize health and accept that the runner may feel unprepared because their long runs never got close to that magical 20-miler? It’s super challenging to hear a runner give me their laundry list as to why they need 20-milers (or longer) when they are typically finishing in the 4:45-5:30 marathon window. Science screams that I need to put my foot down, but that athlete is screaming the opposite. It’s like walking a tightrope. At the end of the day, I usually take it case by case, but I usually side with science, being conservative, and instead doing other things to promote mental edge and confidence for that marathoner.

Filed Under: Blog, Fitness, Marathons, Racing, Training Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

Boston Marathon – What Weather?

April 15, 2018 by Leave a Comment

Boston Marathon, 2015.

Boston Marathon. For many runners, it is essentially the magic unicorn of marathon running. For many runners, qualifying is a goal. It takes some of us numerous attempts, years of hard work, and some soul-crushing attempts. But there is nothing like Boston. Once you’ve stamped that qualifier, you are in for one epic ride. There are few things that compare to the feeling of being in your corral in Hopkinton. Being around thousands of other runners who all met a time standard, whether on first attempt or 10th – the energy at the starting line is something unique.

As I sit on my Amtrak ride up to Boston for my 5th attempt from Hopkinton to Boylston Street, preparing for what will be perhaps the worst weather I have yet to trek 26.2 miles through, I am filled with peace. No nerves. No negativity about the weather. If I’d planned to really race my best tomorrow, I’d be a stressed out mess. But each marathon has taught me something new about myself and the sport. With this being my 18th (or 19th?) marathon, I have learned to accept the things I cannot control and to instead focus on the things I can. Bad weather is part of marathons. It’s a big part of Boston Marathon. These less-than-ideal days make the good days that much more rewarding when they happen.

I’ve probably stalked the forecast a good 100 times in the last week. No joke. But I keep reminding myself that no matter how much rain or headwind we have tomorrow, it’s better (and probably safer) than a hot and sunny Patriots Day. No matter the weather, this is Boston Marathon. I’ll be out there in good company with other strong and accomplished marathoners. The best marathoners in the world will be leading the way. The crowds will still be strong, cheering on and celebrating, because it’s Boston.

If you are running tomorrow and freaking out (a natural reaction – especially if it’s your first Boston!) here are a few tips:

  • Don’t fight the wind. Don’t fight the wind. DON’T FIGHT THE WIND. Instead, LISTEN to your body and exertion, and draft behind a group of taller runners whenever possible.
  • Don’t go out too hard. Boston is a pretty fast course. The biggest challenge is the Newton Hills (mile 17-21.) Don’t be scared of the Newton Hills. There are downs to counter the ups. But they are at a tough place in the marathon. The first half of the course is pretty fast, and it’s tempting to go out hard and “bank” time. Try to resist that urge. You risk hitting those hills with quads that are tanked from the downhills.
  • Do stay warm and dry pre-race. Use the tents in Athlete’s Village. Bring layers. Bring plastic bags. You lose energy shivering and try to stay warm. You want your energy for your 26.2 mile journey.
  • Do still hydrate early and often on the race course. Despite cool and wet conditions, you’ll still be sweating and burning up your glycogen storage.
  • Do take in the energy from the spectators. Give high fives, cheer, hoot and holler! It’s BOSTON MARATHON!!!! Make the most of this experience. You’ll make memories no matter what. Choose to make them good ones.
  • If Boston IS your goal race, don’t lose hope that the PR is out of the cards. Yes, the odds are sadly not great. But you know your training. You know what you’ve trained through. You know your strengths and weaknesses. Just go to the starting line at peace with a few backup goals, just in case the wind is too much.

For many of us marathoners, this unicorn is the height of our marathon racing in a few ways. Aside from a few marathons that offer some perks for speedy qualifying standards, most of us are never going to make it to Olympic Trials. Boston is the “reach” goal. It’s special. It’s a race that should be saved for that BQ (my opinion) and then means so damn much once it’s achieved. No matter the weather, tomorrow will be a day. An opportunity. So we’ll get a little wet and run into some gnarly wind for a couple of hours. I can find few better ways to spend a Monday.

Filed Under: Blog, Fitness, Marathons, Racing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Race Report: Pocono Marathon

May 25, 2016 by Leave a Comment

PH-515009996On May 15th I ran my first solo marathon since Boston 2015. My goal was simple: lock in a BQ. While I felt pretty confident I’d complete a 3:15-3:30 marathon, a whole lot can happen in the course of 26.2 miles. Plus, this marathon was a short two weeks since my “A” race for 2016, the Broad Street Run.

I’d never run the Pocono Marathon before, but I signed up for it for a few reasons: the time of year sounded pretty optimal for my qualifier – still cool mornings and with plenty of time for me to recover before tackling training for Berlin Marathon. The course is over 1000 feet net downhill, which also sounded pretty darn appealing. Add the location, less than two hours from NYC, and it was the best fit. It sounded so good that my training partner and fellow Mile High Run Club Coach, Vinnie Miliano decided to join in the fun.

Here are a few things I loved about race weekend:

  • Having the school open and runners hang out there pre-race was awesome. It was unseasonably cold (felt like 30 degrees at the start!), and so having a warm building with tons of public rest rooms was amazing. A huge perk. Can you imagine the difference this would have made in the rain? Game changer.
  • The volunteers were awesome, and there was hydration/restrooms every 2 miles. This is a VERY rural race, and so the little support (no real spectators) made a huge difference. You always knew water and a smiling face was a few miles away.
  • Post-race support. For a race that caps the marathon at 1600 runners, there were bagged sandwiches, muffins, orange slices, chocolate milk, bananas and water.
  • The course. Though the back 10K is TOUGH (like REALLY fucking tough!!!!), I enjoyed the quiet, beautiful course until the back 10K. The 1000 feet downhill gave you some “free” miles, and the ups were often a nice change. I don’t know if I’d call the marathon course “fast,” but the half marathon course has PR written all over it.

Here are a few things I didn’t love about the weekend:

  • On a point-to-point course, there is always transportation (shuttles) to the starting line from the finish line. Apparently this race was the exception to the rule. This meant runners hustled to book cabs from hotels to the starting line. There aren’t a ton of cab companies up in the Poconos, but I got lucky and booked one that we split with a few other runners. I booked a hotel walking distance from the finish line specifically for the reason of ending at the finish. There’s absolutely no way I was going to take a shuttle to the starting line and then drive my car BACK to my hotel after running a very hilly marathon. That was the current arrangement for this race, apparently. No good.
  • Plastic cups on the race course. NOOOOO. The first cup I grabbed slipped out of my hand and spilled cold water all over me. I mentioned it was 30 degrees, right? The second cup didn’t slip, but it’s pretty impossible to fold a plastic cup and drink. Waxed paper cups are the only cups that belong on a race course – easy to grab, easy to fold, and easy to toss – in my humble opinion. This race made hydration a struggle.
  • The course. Again, I LOVED the first 20 miles. And I don’t hate hills. But the inclines were pretty insane for the final 10K, and the road was open to traffic, which made it that much more of a struggle to focus when you weren’t sure where the next car would come from. I’d highly recommend one lane be totally closed and coned off for the runners.

At the end of the day, I ran my second-fastest marathon to date! I finished 5th overall woman, 1st in my AG, in the official time of 3:11:07. I clenched my Boston Qualifier by over 20 minutes. I’m pretty pleased with how my body held up, considering those final hills two weeks after my goal race. I am very hopeful for my goals in Berlin, and going into those goals with some confidence. Now it’s time for me to take my own advice and focus on some rest and recovery.

Would I run Pocono Marathon again? Probably not. But I’d definitely consider the half marathon for a PR course!

Filed Under: Blog, Marathons, Racing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Boston Marathon 2015

April 27, 2015 by Leave a Comment

273565_191803974_XLargeThe Boston Marathon has been part of my marathon journey since my first marathon. Working towards a BQ (Boston Qualifier) gave my training a specific goal. Achieving that goal, and anticipating Boston was a magical experience. Three Boston Marathons later, and my journey seems somehow complete for that chapter. Before I get to that, let’s talk about the Boston Marathon for a minute.

In my opinion, the Boston Marathon is the most famous, historical, and prestigious marathon in the world. I’m sure there are prettier marathon courses out there, harder ones, easier ones – but Boston is special. Unless you opt to run for a charity, every single runner on the course earns their way to the starting line by achieving a qualifying time. I like that. I’m someone who likes to work hard, and would never run Boston without earning my spot. Just my opinion. This is because that starting line and 26.2 mile journey cannot be nearly as sweet for someone who fundraised as someone who may have put blood, sweat, tears and sacrifice into achieving that qualifier. For many of us, its as close to an Olympic Qualifier, or Olympic Trials experience. I wouldn’t want to buy my way into that either.

Besides being earned, the course is amazing. There are a few quiet miles through Boston farm towns and suburbs, but they are short-lived and broken up by the most passionate fans and towns I have ever witnessed. In Monday’s rain, the crowds only screamed louder. You can hear the Wellesley girls (famous for giving out kisses to runners) a mile or so away. The energy is electric. The locals set up tents, fire pits, and parties in their front yards – often handing out orange slices, candy, tissues, water, and all the enthusiasm they have. By the time you get to the Newton Hills, you are charged and ready for the hills that await  you. Turning the corner in Newton at the fire station, and seeing one of the first big climbs, you cannot help but feel confident and strong as Bostonians scream for you. From Brookline to the finish line on Boylston Street, the energy simply carries you.

If you have never run Boston, and have it on your list of goals, I highly recommend you do what you can to qualify. The reward for partaking in Patriot’s Day is one that cannot be accurately described. It’s an honor to share the journey with so many talented runners from around the world.

273565_191450725_XLargeThe 2015 race took place in less than ideal weather. Off and on rain (sometimes a heavy pouring rain!) and 20 MPH winds at times meant respecting the weather and not fighting it. The rain held off for me until I got to Natick, so I was a good 6-8 miles into the race before the weather got nasty. Overall, I have to say the weather wasn’t bad. Had I been trying to race, I’m sure I would have felt it. Based on the slow elite times, it obviously was a factor. The worst part was losing feeling in my hands and arms, making opening my final GU a real challenge. But in the big picture, a pretty minor inconvenience.

I have had a hard time processing this past Monday. I almost bailed on the race all together. I didn’t know if I was truly ready to come back and face the course and the city for the first time since 2013. I won’t rehash the details, but you can read my blogs about that here, here and here. Ironically, though qualifying for Boston has never been full of misses and heartbreak (I’m lucky in that department!), my experiences in Boston had never been good. In 2012, the year it was over 80 degrees at the start, I was battling a stomach bug that forced me to DNF at my 11. It was a truly terrible day, and I was so heartbroken and sad. I had never pulled out of a race before, and Boston seemed like the worst of all races to do so. In 2013, I was coming back from an injury and wasn’t sure I’d be clear to go and run – I had abandoned the original goal of really racing and trying to PR. On what was a beautiful day, and an incredible journey with my friend Cipriana, that was all erased at the finish line. So this year, the third attempt at Boston, I was more or less waiting for something to go wrong. Maybe third year was the charm? Anyway, when the weather looked sour, I figured if that was the worst of it, I’d take it. I can run in wind and rain. I wasn’t aiming to PR or really race, and I train through any and all conditions.

Race weekend was tough. Anxiety made me snappy, tense, and probably hard to deal with. We avoided crowds, Boylston Street and pretty much everything. Aside from the race expo, which we got in and out as quickly as possible, we laid low. I turned off my phone by 7pm on Sunday night, and was in bed. I wasn’t exactly sleeping, but I was resting. This may be one of the first marathons where I was calm and not at all stressed about the course, race morning, goals – I am usually a bit of a basket case. Having no race goals and knowing the course meant I let it all go. It was really strange. The most I have ever slept before a marathon, for sure. Race morning, as soon as I left the hotel and started the walk towards Boston Commons for the bus, Boston PD were out with bomb sniffing dogs at 6am. I almost threw up, but somehow told myself not to panic. Thankfully, a lovely couple (Christina and Quint) came up beside me and started chatting as we walked. Having their company from that moment until we hopped into our corrals hours later was a mind-saver. Truly.273565_192126062_XLarge

At the starting line, I was briefly overcome by emotion. Not because of PTSD or bad memories, but the reality that here I was, on the iconic starting line in Hopkinton. My plan for the day was to run a comfortable pace, and to settle and not burn out on the hills. Being a coach has made me a smarter athlete. I never lost my head or abandoned my plan. The quiet, the crowds, the rain, the wind, and calm – I took it all in. I looked forward to each town in front of me, and enjoyed the town I was in. I gave high-fives, pumped my fist when someone shouted “Go #5893!!!!,” took my GU like clockwork every 5 miles, and enjoyed the journey. While many runners around me dreaded the iconic hills between miles 16-21, I was excited to see them and climb them. I’m not going to say I was never tired out there, because 20 miles into a marathon nobody feels fresh – regardless of the pace. I recall my glutes and hips felt a little tight and tired, and I told myself “smooth and easy,” over and over each mile. Reminding myself to check my form meant I never took heavy steps – always silent or very quiet.

Getting to the top of HeartBreak is always fun – all of the Boston College kids and the fast downhill give you a surge. Plus it’s only 5 miles to the finish. This is where I started passing runners by the dozens. I found my even splits meant I passed many runners on the hills who had gone out too fast, but then the final 5 miles all I did was fish in runners who struggled. It’s a GREAT feeling to pass everyone towards the end of a race. Though I only looked at my watch periodically to make sure I wasn’t going too fast, I ran 1:38:57 for the first half, and a slightly positive split for a finish time of 3:20:23.

Chris was standing at the overpass he was at in 2013, wearing a poncho and trying to snap photos in the rain. Once I saw him, it was a block until the right turn on Hereford Street, and the quick left onto Boylston Street. On Hereford, I gathered myself for what was ahead. I remember briefly closing my eyes and closing out the world. I told myself this was it, the epic stretch was before me, and this time it was mine to celebrate without anything bad. I had made it to Boston, all I had left was Boyslton Street. Running down Boylston Street is something I cannot put into words. The energy is unfathomable. It’s all around you. I laughed, I cried, I opened up my stride to finish strong. I remember giving a second of reflection as I passed the National Flags, having witnessed them destroyed two years ago.

Once at the finish, I turned around and forced myself to look back. No bombs. No fear. Just cheering and runners coming in behind me. The rain and wind, though noticeable, was such a minor thing in the big picture. My frozen hands and arms had a hard time holding the water bottle handed to me, and a volunteer put my medal around my neck and helped me with my mylar poncho. My legs were so cold I couldn’t tell where my shorts stopped and my legs began. As I exited Boystlon Street and walked back to my hotel, I’m sure I looked like a mess. A drenched, crying, laughing, poncho-wearing runner looking at her splits and eagerly walking the mile or so back to a hot shower.

Some interesting facts/choices made that day:

  • Pre-race, I consumed 1 banana at the hotel, and then 1 banana and 1 bagel, and 1 bottle of water in Athlete’s Village.
  • No blisters, chafing or discomfort commonly associated with long distance running occurred during this marathon – which is pretty surprising considering the wet conditions.
  • I used old running socks as mittens for my hands, and kept them on for the first 5 miles. They worked great.
  • Wearing a hat with a cap is hugely helpful when racing in rainy or sunny conditions. The rain was rarely in my face and vision was never compromised.
  • Usually one to race in sunglasses, I opted to leave them at the hotel. This worked out well, considering the humidity level and rain. Though my face did feel a little naked without them.
  • After much debate, I opted to dress minimally for a chilly race – sports bra, shorts, knee high compression socks, and arm sleeves – which I discarded around 10 miles in. The minimal clothes meant minimal fabric weighed down by cold rain. The only downside: my arms/hands lost all feeling by the end of the race, thanks to the wind and rain.
  • I used 4 GUs, taking them religiously every 5 miles. I stored them in my sports bra, my arm sleeves, and later held the final two in my hand after discarding the arm sleeves and looking to avoid chafing.
  • I brought my iPod with me (incase nerves became a big issue), but never used it and had the headphones tucked into my sports bra the entire 26.2 miles.
  • I never took any Gatorade, only water from hydration stations.
  • Breaking up the course by town is a nice way to look at 26.2 miles. Boston is the perfect course for this strategy, as it’s pretty much a straight shot to Boston. No hairpin turns or out-and-backs.
  • Once crossing the finish line, I kept moving. I paused for my medal and mylar sheet, but otherwise walked an additional 20 minutes or so. Resisting the temptation to stop and sit post-race can be hugely beneficial for recovery.
  • I consumed a bottle of water, a burrito, chips and guacamole, and a chocolate shake within 60-90 minutes after walking back to the hotel. Fueling post-race is important, and I waited a little longer than the ideally recommended 30-minutes post-race. I was too cold and frozen to manage eating en route to the hotel. And it was pouring.273565_191542107_XLarge

Three Patriot’s Days running Boston, and the third was certainly the best. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’m okay with that. I have a qualifier now for 2016, but I don’t want to rush anything. Plus I don’t know what my goals are right now with the marathon. I’d love to come back and really race some day. I’d also love to crack 3 hours. Though I don’t know if Boston will be the place for that. For now, I am just relieved to have made it to today, with a positive story about the Boston Marathon. I will never forget 2013, as hard as I may try. And that’s okay, it’s unfortunately part of my history. But now I also have a newer history in Boston, that is so much sweeter.

Filed Under: Blog, Marathons, Racing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,