St. George Marathon: My Personal Recap

This is my second blog regarding St. George Marathon. If you’re looking for the one regarding logistics, race course, etc – go back an entry and you’ll find all that fun stuff there. This blog is going into the personal side, my experience 100% as a human, an athlete, and a gal with a big goal. **Fair warning: if abortion or topics of that nature make you uncomfortable or mad, please stop reading now – because I am going deep on this one.

Pre-race. Full of big dreams and optimism.

My training for Saint George was overall really great. I gave myself a solid 18-week plan, peaked at 70-mile weeks, and was determined to feel like the elite bib I’d have strapped to my chest was one thousand percent deserving. I did have some aches and pains through training, and I was quick to address them. With Saint George being my 20th marathon, I’ve learned over the years that its best to be undertrained and healthy than overtrained and held together by KT tape, crossed fingers and a wish. Going into the taper, I knew I’d done everything right, and it was simply about executing the plan. There was only one thing that made me nervous: my race day fueling. With having the opportunity to have my own personal bottles at the elite tables, I’d overhauled my fueling and switched to Maurten for some of my long runs. Honestly, I had mixed experiences.

Attempting to smile with Chris through tears of disappointment.

Some runs had felt fine, and others had me a bit nauseated. But I felt I should abandon my gels and use this opportunity to perhaps make improvements. After all, many of the top marathoners in the world swear by Maurten.

Race morning turned out to be a complete mess after mile 6 or 7. For the final 19-20 miles, I was essentially ill. Vomiting, dry heaving, etc – I could hardly keep down my fuel. Even water was hard to stomach. I lost track after the 8th time I fought the next wave of nausea – but for about 2.5 hours I was in complete hell. Obviously paces suffered. The odd thing was that my heart rate felt incredibly high at one point and impossible to regulate – even on the smooth downhills. I assumed it was the Maurten – my fueling choice backfired and cost me my race. I crossed the finish line in 3:11 – a solid 11+ minutes off my goal. I was so mad at myself. Physically in destress. Mentally, I questioned everything. After all, I had 2.5 hours to suffer and question my choices, my training, my potential – like, was my goal just simply outside my potential? I burst into tears at the finish line. Not the happy or emotional tears some marathoners experience, but tears of devastation, pain, frustration, and doubt.

Incredibly long story short – 36 hours after the marathon, I took a pregnancy test. I have an IUD, so the assumption was that there’s no way I’m pregnant. But I was a few weeks late (it’s happened with training before), and my nausea hadn’t subsided. It turns out my IUD had slipped (apparently this can happen!), rendering it useless, and I ran the marathon 6-weeks pregnant. Pregnancy with an IUD is often dangerous, as an ectopic pregnancy is common with an IUD and the female can bleed out. So off to the ER we go, in Utah, 36 hours post-marathon, to see if I was ectopic. Thankfully, because the IUD had slipped (irony, I know), it wasn’t ectopic and so I could pause, process and still attempt to enjoy a few days in the Southwest. Chris and I both were on the same page with not wanting to keep it, and so I scheduled an abortion for the day after we’d fly back to NYC. We attempted to enjoy the rest of the trip – though I was often nauseas, exhausted, and experienced blurred vision.

In the ER in Utah and having an ultrasound done to determine if it was ectopic or not.

Planned Parenthood in NYC treated me with nothing but kindness and respect. I elected with the in-clinic procedure. Being only 6-weeks pregnant, I was told it would be a simple and easy procedure with minimal recovery. Chris came with me and waited in the lobby for 4+ hours, and then took me home after. I was groggy, a little uncomfortable, but otherwise feeling okay. In the days following, I cramped and bled a bit. I felt weak and tired. I was told to expect 2-3 weeks of bleeding and cramps, and that it may take longer for hormone levels to essentially go back to normal. (Side note: hormones are insane. My boobs literally doubled in size in a matter of days. Blurred vision was also due to hormones and blood pressure.)

As you can imagine – it’s been one hell of a ride. Between the marathon 4 weeks ago, the abortion 3 weeks ago, I am still recovering. Mentally and emotionally I am 100% at peace with the abortion. It wasn’t a decision I struggled with. But mentally I am still processing the marathon. I’m sure it sounds silly considering the circumstances, but I put my heart, soul, blood, sweat and tears into that race – and it was a painful failure. Just today, I told Chris I still am questioning my abilities. My confidence is shook, big time. And I need to deal with that. I have had overwhelming support from friends, family and complete strangers via social media. I am so grateful. Physically, I feel great after the marathon. It’s now been 4 weeks. Recovery from the abortion has been the harder, more painful and frustrating part. But I’m trying to be patient and to take care of myself.

Being an athlete is tough. Being a female is tough. Being a female athlete is something I’m struggling with. I want women to know that they aren’t alone – be it a disappointing race, a miscarriage, an abortion, a loss of a loved one – these tough life moments happen to all of us. It’s my hope that over time we can feel supported, empowered, and inspired by each other to keep climbing, to champion each other, and to always have each other’s backs.

Willing myself across the finish line.

 

Race Recap – Saint George Marathon

With my family at the finish. 

I’ve decided to sit on my experience for a solid 4 weeks before attempting to recap Saint George. There’s been a lot for me to process mentally, and a lot of recovery both physical and mental. In an attempt to share perhaps helpful info for runners signed up for (or interested in signing up for) Saint George Marathon, this blog is focused on the race experience – the course, organization, city, weather, and so on. In another blog I’ll share the personal stuff. If you aren’t aware (spoiler alert), I ran the marathon 6 weeks pregnant and it was 100% not the race I’d hoped it to be.

Saint George, Utah is an incredibly beautiful part of the country. I flew into Las Vegas and then made the 2 hour drive with my family to Saint George. The logistics were pretty easy, and it’s advised to drive into high elevation versus simply flying into it. As a New Yorker, I’m essentially at sea level most of the year. Saint George is at about 2500 ft and the starting line is up around 5000 ft.

I’m all about simplicity and low stress for a goal marathon, and so I booked the Hyatt in Saint George, which literally shared a parking lot with the Convention Center – the home of the race expo. An unexpected bonus: there’s a paved running/bike path and was right outside my hotel door, perfect for that shakeout run. The hotel has an outdoor pool and hot tub, and a tiny gym in case you need space to stretch, foam roll, etc.

The race expo was super easy. For the folks interested, there were the usual vendors marathoners expect. Personally, I usually just want to get in, get my stuff, and get out. Energy can be wasted at expos, it’s not advisable to try new snacks the day before a race, and I find the crowds often overwhelming. With this being my first elite bib, I had to bring my personal water bottles to the expo with me. I dropped my bottles off with volunteers (they’d be placed on the course the next day) and retrieved my bib from a special area. Otherwise it was the standard expo procedure.

For carb loading, there is a pasta dinner hosted at the Expo. However, there’s also a Cracker Barrel across the street, and so I opted for pancakes. Post-marathon we enjoyed steaks at Rib and Chop, and we also indulged our East Coast senses with In ‘n Out Burger a few times.

The day before the marathon, my family and I hopped in the rental car and drove the full race course. It was incredibly helpful to get a visual and to get the elevation profile under my belt. The downhills were generous and steep, but so were some of the climbs. The big reality check was Veyo, mile 7, where you climb for over a mile – at one point there’s a sign about an 8% grade up for vehicles. There was also a notable climb around mile 19 – which reminded me a little of Heartbreak Hill in Boston. Completing the drive left me feeling cautiously optimistic about the next morning. The course played into my strengths, and I was excited to blow my PR out of the water. I’d trained incredibly hard, pretty darn smart, and felt confident that the course and I were a really good match.

Race morning I awoke at 3am. With it being a point-to-point course, all marathoners had to board the buses at the finish line and be bussed up to the starting line. Multiple emails had been sent over the months stressing the boarding time ranged from 3:45am-5:20am – as the buses would be literally driving on the marathon course and needed to be cleared for the 6:45am start. Not one to be late or compromise my goal race, I was on the bus around 4:15am. There were no crowds waiting to board, and it was an incredibly smooth morning. Chris drove me the 3 miles from the hotel to the bus, I hopped on the bus, and off to the starting line I went. The bus ride was about 40 minutes, and I was at the starting line by 5am.

Upon arrival at the starting line, it was raining. The rain in the forecast was predicted to clear by 7:30am. However, this meant standing around in 45 degrees and rain for a few hours. I was a little surprised and disappointed to discover that elites were not given a tent. We were given our own area with our own porta-potties, but we were out in the elements like everyone else. While this was my first elite bib, to the best of my knowledge, elites at most races are given shelter from the elements. Luckily, I was prepared with extra clothes and volunteers handed out Mylar blankets – which are water proof.

The rain continued up until the starting of the marathon, and we passed the hours of waiting hanging out by fire pits, hopping into the porta-potties, and making small talk with each other. As it neared 6:45am, it was announced that the start would be delayed by “10-15 minutes.” I was really surprised, as Saint George Marathon has a reputation and brags about being one of the most organized marathons in the country. I was not thrilled to stand around in cold rain for additional time. The 10-15 minutes eventually turned into 30 minutes – and it was poorly communicated how and when we’d start. The reason for the delay: runners were late to board the last bus. The New Yorker in me was pretty pissed. It was clearly stated that the last bus would leave at 5:20am, and apparently the last one didn’t actually leave until 6:20am – A WHOLE HOUR BEHIND SCHEDULE.

Bib pickup at the Expo

Once we did start, at 7:15am, it was still dark and raining. The road was wet and my shoes splashed through puddles. The sun rose on a fast and mostly downhill 10K. I knew about this potential trap and relaxed and just tried to wake up my legs. At mile 7 you hit Veyo – the first opportunity for spectators and crowd support, and that big monster hill. It’s then a gradual climb until mile 12. Mile 12-19 is practically all downhill. Some parts are steep, others definitely more gradual, and there were a few little climbs in the mix. Mile 16, Snow Canyon, offers the next big spectator opportunity. By this point, the rain had stopped and I could begin to take in the grandeur of the course. Aside from Mile 19, you continue to descend to Saint George. Once in Saint George, its residential and there are a few turns. The road flattens out and you can see the finish line for probably 800-600M before you cross the line.

A few takeaways:

  • Train for hills – up and down. This kind of course can be absolutely relentless. The soreness after a flat marathon is nothing compared to a hilly one.
  • Being elite, a volunteer was ready with my bottle in hand as I’d come through. This was really nice. A volunteer perhaps 200M from the hydration station would radio in my bib number so that the person at the table would be ready for me.
  • The course is really beautiful and fast if you’re ready for it. It’s definitely a negative-split course on a good day.
  • Everyone in Saint George was incredibly nice and supportive. The hydration volunteers yelled how much they loved my bottles (they were by far the best decorated!).
  • Expect temperature at the start to be VERY different than the finish and dress/prepare accordingly.
  • There’s no tree coverage or shade. For me, it was either raining or overcast. But I know in years past, if its a sunny day, runners have baked out there on this race.
  • For the love of God, get to the busses extra early. That extra 30-60 minutes of sleep will not change your race day, but you may delay the race for literally 8,000 people.
  • Having family on the course is always a boost, even on a bad day.
  • Saint George is absolutely a race I’d recommend to marathoners.

Take note that unlike most marathons, Saint George always takes place on a Saturday. I assume this is for religious reasons (Utah is mostly Mormon) so be prepared to adjust travel plans if you are used to Sunday races.

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

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.

Boston Marathon 2018 Recap

As most have heard, the weather on Patriot’s Day was anything but kind. Marathoners are pretty tough people, and Monday demanded our mental strength to carry when our bodies succumbed to the elements. I often preach to my runners that they need to learn to train in most elements because we never know what we’ll be handed by Mother Nature on race day. Monday was a reminder of that. Not surprisingly, the runners I know who preformed best were the Winter Warriors and the Ultra Marathoners.

The biggest takeaways from my 4th Boston finish:

  • Dress and pace for your body. I found protecting my hands with two layers for the first half of the race incredibly helpful. I know that I’m not great at regulating core temperature. I had originally planned to race in shorts, but the forecast continued to change and predict cooler temperatures on Sunday, and so I made a last-minute purchase of tights at the expo and am SO GLAD I did! Shorts may have been a big downfall. I bought the last pair of XS tights at the expo – so the lesson: don’t attend the expo at the very end if you need something for race day. I got super lucky.
  • Athlete’s Village was a muddy mess. My feet were soaked in cold mud for literally 2 hours before the start. I had never imagined the school to be so flooded. I should have brought a throw-away pair of sneakers. And a thousand trash bags. I was ready for the cold, but the wet feet for hours was a bad surprise. The pre-race and post-race was the worst part of the race.
  • It’s incredibly tough to tear open GU with frozen hands. It’s tough to stomach drinking cold water when your body is freezing, it’s impossible to untie/tie a shoe with frozen hands. Going to the bathroom with soaked and frozen tights and frozen hands was also quite challenging. Big shoutout to Kevin. A rock in my sock became an issue, and I paused at mile 19 or so to attempt to take off my shoe. I was pretty unsuccessful. When I saw Kevin and the QDR crew at mile 20, I ran over and asked for help. He helped me solved the rock in the sock problem and I’m so glad he did!
  • The crowds were a little lighter than other years, but when the rain changed to a downpour, they’d cheer even louder. I am so appreciative of the folks who chose to weather the storm. It was a really nasty day to be outside, and the crowd support made the journey a bit less painful.

My calves felt like they were on the verge of cramping due to the cold around mile 14. I did everything I could to prevent cramping from happening, which meant changing my stride, form and pace in the late miles. I knew I was better off adding a minute to each mile than cramping and needing walk and stretching breaks in the elements. At the finish, I could barely lift my legs. My hips were in incredible pain, so cold and tight, and I wasn’t confident I’d make it to my hotel without a wheelchair ride to medical. Marni and the cup of hot cocoa at the finish line were the only reason I didn’t end up in a wheelchair.

The finish line never disappoints. I was emotional early in the race, a few times during, and then totally lost it as I got closed to Hereford Street. All of the hard work, the years of training, the humbling runs, the BQs, the PRs, the countless hours I’ve struggled on the track alone – the final 600M of Boston Marathon make it all worth it. Nothing compares.

I went into Boston for “fun,” and then to “make memories” once I saw the weather was going to be horrendous. Memories were made. Many of the memories weren’t great. Some downright sucked. Others were amazing. The marathon tests us all. There are highs and lows. Some have more lows. But that’s where the lessons are learned. Of the 3 hours, 26 minutes and 22 seconds I was on the course, I’d say 3 hours were pretty painful, uncomfortable or terrible. But I did it. I’m mentally and physically exhausted. I can tell my immune system is a bit compromised. But I’ll be stronger in the future because I didn’t give up. I excited to rest and recover. I know it’s necessary to hit the “pause” button after a race. I’m eager to dive into training for St. George Marathon, but also happy to chill out before I start that journey. There has to be balance. Work hard, recover hard. I haven’t decided if I’ll run Boston in 2019. I want to digest and process.

Boston Marathon – What Weather?

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.