California International Marathon - Michaela's version

The California International Marathon (CIM) was a week ago yesterday. Why then has it taken me a week to get a race report written? Simple. I don't write race reports. For no other reason then the fact that I don't feel like others really care to read them. This started out as a family blog about the kiddo and has morphed into something else and taken on another limb or life of it's own. But then again as Dustin mentioned in a previous post, our lives have changed too. Running is no longer something we do to just relieve stress or justify that 2nd (4th) cookie or beer. It is what we do and who we are. All of us. And it's not just the two of us. Landon has embraced the new way of living as well. Granted, he's not out there running, but the kid is the first one to jump in the car with a head lamp on if he thinks we're going to work an aid station or head to a race to cheer on friends. The first thing he said to me after finishing last week's CIM (after a huge hug of congratulations and asking if I had a good run) was, "Mommy, I got to shake a bell at the runners!!" Apparently, giving a child a cowbell to ring while cheering and yelling at the runners guarantees hours of amusement! I'm almost certain he had more fun then I did that day.

Don't get me wrong. I had a fantastic race. I had a goal. It was ambitious and took work. I didn't just want to PR. I wanted to crush my last years time. I knew I was capable of running faster and my fitness has significantly improved over the last year. But still, I wondered if I had overshot my abilities. I wanted to run a 3:40 marathon. It just so happened that my goal finish time would also qualify me for the Boston Marathon, who had just dropped their marathon qualifying standards to make it more difficult to qualify. Who doesn't like a challenge?

Sunday morning I woke up early to start the "gettin' race ready" routine. Oatmeal, coffee, standing around in the kitchen checking Facebook...finally getting dressed. After I finished tying bows in my hair, I sent a friend a text message that morning at 6am. "I think I'm more excited about my new race outfit then I am the actual race." It was true. I dug my race outfit. A friend from work and I had coordinated and swapped arm sleeves so we each had one bright orange and one bright pink. Fun!

My friend Julie was pacing the 3:40 group. Julie's a phenomenal runner and I knew if I could stick with her, she'd get me to my goal. The first few miles flew by pretty quickly, running with the pace team and a few friends. I had finally agreed after much urging from Kirk that I should take a gel every 30 minutes. Every. 30. Minutes. Crap that's a lot of Gu. I realized post race that I took in more gels during this 26.2 then I did at the 50K I ran in March. More by THREE. 800 calories. No need to worry about bonking!

I saw Dustin and Landon for the first time at mile 8.7, the Fleet Feet aid station. We didn't stop. I threw my water bottle to Dustin who handed me a new one and kept on running. After yelling to him that I needed more gels. I had dropped a couple and wouldn't have enough to stick with my plan.

Around mile 16 I started having a really annoying sports bra issue. It felt suffocating around my chest and I felt like I had a hard time breathing. That's a first. And hopefully a last. Not fun. Other then this minor issue, I felt fine. The pace felt comfortable and my legs felt good. I knew I'd be seeing Dustin and Landon again soon at the UltraRunnerPodcast rogue aid station around mile 19. They were serving pancakes and beer. If I didn't have a belly full of Gu, this might have been tempting.

Miles continued to pass and my mood started to drop. I wasn't having fun. It dawned on me that this was the longest I'd run in a LONG time where I didn't stop to walk a hill, or snack at an aid station or even to mingle with friends. Holding a sustained pace (not to mention a pretty fast one, at least for me) is HARD. While the pace didn't feel too bad, my legs were starting to get tired and mentally I was done.

I've said a few times that I feel having Julie as my pacer was some sort of unfair advantage. Like it was cheating. Having noticed I'd gotten quiet and fallen back a few steps, she'd call back to see how I was doing. "Relax your shoulders. Shake it out. You're doing great." Had it been any other pacer leading our group, I probably would have said fuck it. I could be just as happy with a 3:42 or 3:43. I don't even want to go to Boston. 3:42 is still a fantastic time. This sucks. I'm not having fun. Then, Julie'd call out again. "How you doing girl?" Ugh. Guess I need to suck it up and keep going. Again, I feel like I had an unfair advantage having a good friend lead my pace group, someone I have the utmost respect for as a runner. I didn't want to disappoint her. I didn't want to disappoint Kirk who'd spent a lot of time on my training. I didn't want to disappoint Dustin. I didn't want to disappoint myself. Fucking suck it up. This is what you signed up for. Snap out of it

Finally around mile 24 I started doing the mental calculations in my head. 2.2 miles to go, elapsed time: 3:22. We were ahead of schedule. I knew 3:40 was in the bag, but I also knew we had banked time. I could slow down and still make my goal. Nice feeling. I'll just cruise on in and still make my goal. Then, Julie again. "You're doing great. You're almost done. Relax. Toss your water bottle. You don't need it anymore. Drop the extra weight." The pace still felt good, but my legs were heavy. I was tired. I felt nauseous from the Gu (every 30 minutes, never again. Going back to 40-45). But I was almost done.

Julie pointed out the mile 26 flag up ahead in the distance. At the flag we'd be making a left hand turn towards the Capital building. I was 500 yards from DONE. Snapping out of my mental funk I realized that while 3:42 or 3:43 would have been just fine, the 3:30's had a nicer ring to 'em. I left Julie and ran it in, finishing in 3:36. Not. Too. Shabby. But, I felt like shit. To be honest, I felt worse finishing this race then I did finishing AR50 in April. Why is that? It was 24 miles shorter, but somehow I felt worse? Nice. I'll never say never, but this will definitely be my last road marathon for a LONG TIME. If the training isn't fun and the race isn't fun, what's the point?

Plus, I have other adventures on the horizon. After one full week "off" doing nothing but drinking beer, eating extremely unhealthy and relaxing on the couch a little more frequently then usual, I'm back into training. Fleet Feet's Ultra Training program started yesterday. We had our first group run on Saturday and then I headed back out on the trails this morning with a few good friends. Back to back weekend training will become the norm. After all, the Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run isn't going to run itself.