Wednesday, November 9, 2011

NYC Marathon: Race Report

I have been putting off writing this report. In fact, I haven't even been able to bring myself to read any of my friends' race reports from that day. The four hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty eight seconds I spent running the NYC Marathon were, in a word, miserable. I don't remember ever enjoying it. Maybe I did for a brief moment while climbing that hill for the first mile - but even then I was so preoccupied with focusing on my plan, my watch, my gloves and arm warmers, etc. that by the time I "settled in" to mile two, and the pain started, I had missed my narrow window of enjoyment.

Well, that's depressing. This isn't a happy report - it wasn't a happy race.

I thought about waiting a bit to write this - for a little bit more distance. I want so badly to be writing a report where I am psyched about a huge PR like I did after Grandma's Marathon in June. But I just can't. It does not feel like I got a big PR. It doesn't feel like I got a PR (I did).  But less than being bummed about my time - I just cannot help by wince at my memory of the experience.

I will say that everything else about the weekend was amazing. I had a wonderful time with my parents, an awesome, fancy hotel room, tickets to two fun Broadway shows, great meals, and a great time seeing some of my old running friends and meeting some new ones. The race aside, it was a brilliant, perfect, getaway.

Here is me excited at the expo, picking up my race pack:



Here are me, my mom, and step-dad at Carmine's:



Here is a picture of me and George Harrison at our Autism Speaks Team dinner at Hard Rock Cafe:



Here is a picture of me and one of my bestest pals in the world, Susie Hellman, right before the race:



OK...the race. Heregoes:

For reference as to what the plan was, you can click here.  And I apologize in advance if this is TMI for some of you. Race reports can't always be pretty.

The trouble started as I came down the bridge at mile 2. This is supposed to be a nice easy downhill but I got what was the most painful, stabbing side-stitch on my right side, just under my ribs. I literally don't think I have had this type of side ache since high school sports when I was a sprinter/soccer player. I haven't felt anything like this in years and don't ever remember feeling it distance running. It was incredibly sharp and I panicked. I had no idea what to do. I refused to stop for fear of falling off pace too early. I just ran through it knowing that these things usually pass...and it did after several, agonizing minutes. It had taken my breath away, though. So much so that I had to stop and use my inhaler. Though I have pretty severe asthma, I NEVER, or at least rarely, use my inhaler mid-race or mid-run. I take it sufficiently beforehand and that is usually enough. But I needed it.

At the beginning of mile 4 the side-stitch came back, strong as ever. Like a big, sharp knife. Again, I ran through it but it was not easy. I was able to stay on pace because I was so fresh - but I was scared that my day was over before it began, and I was in terrible pain. I was totally zoned out in my own scared, panicking place. I hadn't even noticed that we were on the streets of Brooklyn, which were lined by screaming people, bands, etc. I was just freaking out inside.

My nutrition plan has me eating four Gu Chomps every four miles. (This worked flawlessly at Grandma's) I realized near mile five that I had forgotten to eat so I got out a pack...but I couldn't eat it. My stomach wasn't queasy and I didn't feel sick. I just couldn't create saliva or get myself to swallow. I managed to get two down but it wasn't easy. I stuffed the others back in my pocket.

Long story short, I was pretty much able to stay on pace through the half (I was slightly over, but that was more because the mile markers were usually after the chaotic water stations, so while I was "on" pace...I crossed the miler markers slightly late)...but after the half, I knew it wasn't going to happen. The side-stitches never came back, but I now had a new problem: horrible cramping pains deep in my lower stomach/uterus (sort of like menstrual pains (they weren't), sort of like gas pains)...they were sharp and increased in sharpness/bloat until they were unbearable...then they would subside for a few minutes before returning. This happened for the rest of the race. It was awful. This problem was something I am slightly more familiar with (I have IBS) - but I have no idea why it was so extreme. And it obviously enhanced my eating problem. I don't think I ate more than 5-6 Gu Chomps for the entire race. I kept just throwing them on the ground.

The last 13 miles, and really the whole race, was the hardest physical thing I had ever done. I have never had to dig that deep, and stay that mentally strong for that long. THE MARATHON IS SO LONG!

The weird thing, though? I knew, and was 100% certain, that I would be fine when the race ended. That stopping would stop my weird, internal problems. And I was right.

For the last 13 miles I would stop and walk every time the sharp abdomen pain got really bad. That would usually clear it up. After mile 16, my legs were feeling it from the hills - and I think the fact that they got no fuel increased my inability to be able to keep up my intended pace. That said, my splits are such that, when including my walking breaks, and (unsuccessful) potty break at mile 21, I was likely going somewhat close to my intended pace when I was actually running. My internal organs were just forcing me to stop too often.

For the second half, I kept an eye on my watch and my B and C goals. I was pretty sure my B goal was out, but I thought that if I took sufficient walk breaks, such that they would clear out the tummy pain temporarily and allow me to run at a decent clip, I might still set a PR. And I did. By about 6 minutes.

But it doesn't feel like it. At all. It is hard for me to take something positive from 4+ hours spent in such misery - in my favorite city in the world, in a race I was so looking forward to for so many months. Maybe I built it up too much. Maybe the experience was too loaded with emotion and memories. Whatever the case, I am not yet able to look back at it and see it as a success in terms of my result. That said, I am proud of myself for finishing - for pushing through when things went sour so early. Old Sara Jane, pre-Wendy Sara Jane, may not have had (likely would not have had) the mental toughness to do that. She's changed me. And of that fact I am proud. And grateful. And, I am hungry to get back at it.

I want it more, now. Despite the horrible memory of this experience, I can't wait to hit my next cycle. I still love the marathon. I still want to be a marathoner. I'd just like to get to the place where this particular race is a distance memory and I can't still feel it and don't still wince at the memory.

For those who are interested, here are the splits from my watch:


My official time is 4:17:38.

I ran my first ever marathon in 2007 in 4:57:58. I ran the NYC Marathon in 2008 in 4:49:18.

My previous PR was from Grandma's this past June: 4:23:07.

I think my 100-meter-dash PR was 12.57...but I digress... ;)

My goal is to run my next marathon in sub-4 hours. I am not deterred. Just more determined. And more confident than ever that my mental toughness will not be an issue.

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Here is a picture of me and some of my running pals enjoying post-race spirits:

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