Breaking the Nat Line just South of the Gnat Line

Museum of Aviation 2009 Marathon Race Report:

From the The Urban Dictionary for those not from Georgia: The gnat line is:

An imaginary line dividing coastal areas from more inland areas in certain southern states in the U.S., especially the Carolinas and Georgia. The term comes from the abundance of gnats in coastal marshlands and swamps in these states and the relative lack of the insects in the inland regions.

In Georgia the gnat line falls just below Macon and as the bugs increase the hills decrease until you can see for miles and miles.

Well sort of.

There are still the all those tall ugly knotty pines pretty much blocking the view to Florida.

And the Nat line? Well, I think we all know that for me-- in regards to the marathon-- the Nat line has been the 3:30 marathon.

I've what?

Only been trying since my 3rd marathon-- almost 3 years ago-- to break or even just get close to 3:30. And after 8 marathons total the closest I have come is 3:37 (twice) and 3:38 (once).

Sigh. To be honest I had pretty much accepted it was never going to happen. I figured I was on the downward spiral.

But apparently all it took was getting the heck out of the Appalachian foothills into the vast flatness of the coastal plain.

But . . .
Hell.
Yes!
I did it!
I'll spare you the suspense: 3:28:24 is my official chiptime. Guntime is 3:28:27.

Here is the video of that proud and surreal moment:


Disappointing that it is so blurry but our camera sucks.

Beau chased after me and the lady giving the medals at the finish kept asking me if I had run the marathon and I didn't know she was talking to me since I thought it was obvious.

Oh, and there is icing to this fine cake:

I was 3rd overall woman!

Wanna see my trophy?

Here is me at the finish with first and second overall girls. They both came in a few seconds of each other at 3:23. I'm in the middle with the hat and on my left is Arden who was second and on my right is Christine.
Here we are cleaned up at the awards ceremony:


Okay, on to the boring details.

On Friday Ryan, the kids and I drove from Atlanta to Warner Robins. In the car I entertained myself making sock puppets per Stevie Ray's suggestion to use toss away tube socks to keep my hands warm and have a sock puppet theater to entertain myself and all my marathoning compatriots.

I had a hard time coming up with characters and thought I would let my artistic design drive my creativity. As it turned out my artistic creativity was having an off day and my puppets are totally lame. Kids liked them though.

Allow me to introduce: Frostbite the Artic Seal

Ice Kitten (which you know I totally mean that other word for kitten but can't bring myself to write it since my mom reads here). I wrote "Toughen up Kitten" on it too as a reminder to HTFU.

As it was though all my obsessing and freaking out about the weather proved a waste since it ended up being 20 degrees at the start and I didn't end up using the puppets. Maybe at another race I'll break them out.

I slept fitfully the night before because the person in the room next to mine snored so loudly I thought that it was Ryan. After like the 5th time I smacked him and told him to stop snoring he said it wasn't him.

We had a suite so I walked out into the other room to see which of the kids was playing with a chainsaw. I noticed as I got further from our bed though the sound softened. I couldn't believe it. It was the person in the next room! I tried stuffing tissue in my ears and that did not work at all. I ended up turning on the bathroom fan and sleeping at the foot of the pull out couch the kids were on.

In retrospect I probably should have moved them into bed with Ryan and I might have slept a tad better not getting kicked in the face. But then again it probably wouldn't have mattered because snoring person and friend left at 4 am and made much racket arguing while packing up their car. It was so ridiculous it was just comical.

I got at 5:30am and did the usual bagel, coffee, water and Uncle Sam's. Of course, since it was a small room the kids got up with me. Oh but not Ryan. Totally unfair how soundly he sleeps.

So much for pre-race peace and quiet.

This race only had packet pick up race day. This was the first time I've ever done the race day pick up with a marathon. I think it would have been great any other time but since I had the kids with me it was a total pain in the ass. I didn't want to take them to the race any earlier than necessary and we only had one car so I had to go and then get back so they could drive me to the start. A little more stress than I like dealing with before a race-- especially since Beau had to argue with me about the multiple layers I made him wear since it was 20 degrees.

At 6:50 I left the hotel and drove down the street to the museum to get my packet. I used this time to give my outfit a test drive and jogged around a bit.

I had decided on hat, Mizuno therma tights, compression socks, short sleeve run like a girl shirt, long sleeve technical shirt from Chickamuaga (favorite marathon), Sugoi half mock jersey and two pairs of cotton mittens. It was 20 degrees and I was a little cold. However I was worried I would warm up a lot and couldn't decide if I should keep the Sugoi top or not. I did consult a few other runners who advised me to hold on to it. So I did.

I got my packet and went back to the hotel. My Garmin strap broke 3 times in beweeen going, leaving packet pickup and coming back to the hotel. I decided I would have to do without it. I still had my watch but I had planned on wearing both so I would know what my immediate pace was rather than trying to figure it out at every split and going on perceived effort.

Two days before I had run according to feel and ended up running just below marathon pace for the entire run. I was very surprised by this because I had thought I was running--based on perceived exertion--an 8:20ish pace. And since this course was almost entirely flat-- save for a few insignificant elevation climbs-- I was worried I would run myself silly without a hill to keep me in check. I have never run a flat course--even in training-- for more than 13 miles so I was terrified that I would have worn myself out by mile 15.

But there was nothing I could do and I just couldn't fiddle with it any longer. I made sure I had my Gu's and had Ryan drop me at the start. Then I ran like mad all over the Flight of Aviation museum trying to find a bathroom. I only found one and the line was ridiculous. Luckily some lady spoke up and convinced the gals who were doing the 5k to let us marathoners and half marathoners cut since we started at 8 am and they didn't start until 8:15. I could tell they weren't thrilled but Southern politeness won out and I got pressed up to the head of the line.

Which was quite lucky. I made it out of the bathroom and over to the start with time enough to get up close to the front of the start line. And ready or not we were running.

Ryan took this video. I pass right at 8 seconds.

I did happen to see them right as I passed them. I am all bundled up in gray with my hat. Not sure what the talk of getting shot is about but I guess there was a gunshot at the start (I was so disoriented that I didn't hear it).

I don't remember being cold or anything and I was just trying to get my bearing. A few minutes in I felt my calf get tight. It had been a little sore for a couple of days but I tried not to worry since sometimes I get these aches and they have no effect on my runs. So I took it as a sign that I was probably running too fast and slow down. Which in that first mile--especially when you start up front is really hard to do. You just have to try and stay out of the way and pretend you don't notice all the people passing you. At any rate the mile went by fast and my split was 7:39.
Little too fast. I had thought, if I was feeling good I would shoot for a 7:50 pace after mile 4 but try to stay around 8-8:10 for the first few miles. Best laid plans . . .

Mile two I slowed down even more and that was 7:51. Okay. And then I started chatting with these two men. One was doing the full, the other the half. I asked full guy's goal as I was hoping to have someone to shadow. He said 3:45ish would be good for him. And just then we were at the 3 mile split and I told him he was running way too fast since we just cruised past 3 miles in 23 minutes flat and with that they faded back and I surged ahead.

But I didn't pick up the pace. Instead I started following this guy I had just run up on. I don't know if had been there all long or not but it was right after the 3 mile split that I first noticed him. Every quarter mile it seemed he was checking his Garmin and his form seemed easy and smooth. Jackpot I thought as I contemplated his pace over the next mile.

Mile 4 came in at 30:54. I decided I liked this pace. It was comfortable, easy even. It felt like that walk in the park with your grandma and I decided I would try it. I wasn't sure what the exact pace was or what it yielded since I've been trying for 3:30 for so long and can do the 8 minute mile splits like tens.

So I just followed this guy with a good pace. I would not let myself run with him or pass him. I tried to stay far enough back so maybe he wouldn't notice me and be bothered. I didn't want to make him speed up since I was sponging off his pace.

Mile 5 was 38:55. Just a little over a minute in the bank for 3:30. I contemplated this as I took my Gu slowly over the mile in anticipation of the 6 mile water stop. I know that banking time is a rookie mistake and usually has disastrous results. But then again, I've tried even pacing and hit the half split at 1:45 for 3 marathons (my fastest) and still ran positive splits. So I thought if I was doomed for a positive split I might be better off banking some time. The question for me was how much time could I bank and not blow myself up? I decided I would try find out. But I was not allowed to pass guy with awesome, perfect pace.

Mile 6 I messed up hitting my watch and then I was off for the rest of the race and was very confused. I think it came in right around 46:10 minutes. I probably should have been a little concerned since I had gained almost another minute in the bank in the space of a mile. But I felt awesome so I just kept following perfect pace guy.

And if he wasn't aware of me he was now since I would occasionally yell out "car!" when one would pass or "damn!" when I dropped my chapstick. I was feeling great and I don't even remember miles 7-11 except that man they were going by fast and how awesome that was. I was trying to figure out my pace and potential finish time. I realized I was probably running around 3:25 and got all excited and then reminded myself not to get greedy and stick to the 3:30 plan or PR (3:36).

Around mile 11 it occurred to me that my pace maker might be doing the half. I realized that this would make me really sad. After a few more minutes I couldn't stand it any longer so I sped up and caught up to him and asked.

He was doing the half!

I was so bummed!

I complimented him on the pace and told him I was not allowed to pass him and wished him luck. And then I fell back in my place behind him. One time I did pass him on one of the uphills and threw him a big smile and thumbs up. He didn't seem so happy so I went back to my place behind him.

At the half way mark I lost sight of my pace setter as he bolted to the finish. Inwardly I worried about my 1:41:05 split. I was excited about how good it felt but worried since my second fastest half time is 1:41. My fastest though is 1:36:56 and I tried to console myself that it would be okay. But really I had no idea since I haven't race a half marathon in nearly a year and half.
At the turn around volunteers were calling out: "Marathoners do a second loop!" So I cheered back to them: "Woo hoo second loop!" I really was excited to be half way done and I was having fun.

Ryan took this video of the half way point. This me coming back after the turn around and starting my second loop. I am tossing the Gatorade back to him that he had given to me and I decided I didn't need it or want to carry it. The aid stations were working out great for me.
The "she" he is referring to on the video that he says is two minutes in front of me is Christine and she did end up winning. I asked her at the finish what her half split was and she said around 1:35 so she was A LOT further ahead of me than 2 minutes. At any rate I knew when he said it that the only way I would catch her was if she broke her leg. My goal for the second half was to run a 1:49 positive split so I could run 3:30. And really, I wasn't even sure that was possible so trying to catch her never even occurred to me. Here she is coming into the finish.


So even though I knew I had gone out too fast I was still feeling good --albeit very alone since my pace setter deserted me. So I spent the next 2 miles wondering when the inevitable blow up was going to happen and what I was going to do about. I was trying to form a plan. I still felt really good. Absolutely no complaints. Still running about the same pace but knew the fade was coming and worse, possibly the dreaded wall; and I was a little scared.

In the 15th mile a guy caught up to me. I had noticed his shadow chasing mine and I didn't want it to catch mine. It was a little freaky. The base is pretty desolate and you are completely alone and here is this shadow encroaching on yours. It makes you run faster. But he caught me and asked if it was bothering me that he was running so close to me.

I told him no because he wasn't bothering me, just his creepy shadow--but I didn't mention that part. I asked him what the pace was, he said 7:45ish and we discussed our goals. His was 3:28 and I told him ideally 3:30 but I would be happy with 3:36 since I just ran Atlanta in 3:37. And then conversation died out and I pulled ahead. Not sure if he was still there or if he ever passed me but he did come up to me at the finish and ask my time and congratulate me. I forgot to ask him his. So rude of me, sorry.

Miles 15-18 I passed quite a few men. I could see people starting to struggle but I was still feeling pretty good. However I could tell it was coming to an end. And in the 19th mile I started to feel heavy in my legs and real concern began to creep in. Was this the beginning of "the wall," I wondered, deciding to eat another Gu.

Just as I was contemplating this a girl passed me. Here she is sprinting to the finish. See how great she looks?I was very surprised to see her. She was the first girl I had seen since about mile 4 or so. It also told me that I was now in third if Ryan was right about there only being one in front of me.

I fell in line behind her and kept pace with her as I finished my Gu. She looked good, easy, like she was still on that walk with her grandma. And me? Well I am sure I looked like I was back packing with a toddler on my shoulders compared to her smooth gait. Still I hung on her heels and didn't let her go and then after a minute decided it wasn't going to happen.

We came up on the aid station and I slowed to make sure I got enough water and she didn't and the distance between us began to grow.

And grow.

I still had her in my sights until almost mile 22. Which at that point I stopped looking at the horizon for her. I just looked down or at my watch and tried to do math. And good gracious I was doing awesome! 22 miles was 2:53. With 4 miles and left to go I knew I would at least Pr.

And this is where I am going to agree with everyone that told me this is an pretty uninspiring course. And the miles 21-25 are by far the most vast and loneliest. The space between you and other runners is huge and there are no spectators. To be honest, as a female, I was little scared.

And then wind started to kick up. It certainly wasn't terrible but it was annoying and particularly acute as I ran over the landing strip. I remember thinking if a plane were to come straight at me I couldn't run any faster and would be run over for sure.

During these later miles I thought a lot about just walking. You know, just for a minute. And then I would do math. I reasoned: I could walk and still run a good PR. But then, if I wanted to break 3:30 I was going to have to keep running sub 9 minute miles. I didn't have to run sub 8's anymore and I was pretty certain I could run the sub 9's that would get me under 3:30--or at least according to my math. Your brain isn't so sharp at the end of a marathon so it is kinda hard to trust your accounting.

The argument would continue: Who cares about 3:30? What's so great about that? And I was so dang tired and geez, my legs felt so very heavy.

But then I looked around at the boring course and thought about how miserable it would be to walk-- despite my fatigue. How it would feel like forever. There was, after all, no one to chat with, nothing pretty to look at--and believe me, I even tried a few times: Aw, look at that crow on the chain link fence; or Hmm, that airplane hanger has a nice curve to it-- I just love the sheen of corrugated metal . . . and wow, the color of this concrete is such an opulent shade of ash. . .

So I kept running. The boring-ness of the course is ultimately what motivated me the most in the end. In fact, I skipped the last aid station because I wanted even more motivation to hurry up and finish.

Since this was a two loop course I knew where the finish would be but I wasn't sure how far until I was there. I kept asking the few people I would pass and all they would do was cheer me on or say "You're under 3:30! Great Job!"

And then finally I saw the finish line and saw the clock and was beyond elated!


Wow! What a fantastic race! FINALLY!!!!



And now I have the dreaded chest cold. I have had this post nearly written for 2 days but haven't had the energy to edit it. I am sure, since I do tend to be on the long winded side, there is much more I could say. For example:

I could go on and on that I am frustrated--despite my emails and the responses that it will be fixed--that the official results still reflect that I am a male and do not list me in the awards. I suppose it really doesn't matter since I have a Boston Qualifier from the Atlanta marathon that I can use but it is a little annoying that my best marathon effort thus far does not have me accurately recorded.

Or I could on and on about how I feel like having broken 3:30 it means I finally earned my ticket to Boston. I know I only needed 3:45 but ever since I very first thought of running a marathon 3:30 has been my goal. And while it is so unbelievably awesome to finally meet my goal I can't help but think what else might be possible. What can I do now? And I will be thinking seriously about that in the Fall but for now I'm not even entertaining the idea of trying to run any faster.

Or I could even talk at length-- assuming I don't die from pneumonia--about how I plan on running GA ING at the end of March. And depending how my training goes I will probably just shoot for a course PR which would be sub 3:38. Seems a little greedy to expect that I can run a PR again so soon especially considering the wonkiness that tends to come with the GA ING marathon.

But really, I think you get the gist of it that this was a fantastic race that I am over the moon about.

Thank you so much for reading!

Thanksgiving Marathon

On Thanksgiving I ran the Atlanta Marathon. It is the oldest marathon in the South and one of the 10 oldest in the country. And it is the only marathon run on an Olympic marathon course in the U.S.A.

This was marathon number 7 for me-- 2nd time running Atlanta. It was my first marathon 4 years ago. I ran it in 4:08.

Honestly I didn't have high expectations for this race. I haven't had a good race all of 2008 and I've been battling lots of over training issues recently. Of course I wanted to PR and it is no secret that I have been chasing a 3:30. But really I figured on this course a success for me would be qualifying for Boston again and that is 3:45.

So the bad news is, no 3:30. That's okay. The way I look at it is that when I finally get my 3:30, (and I will) then I will have to set a new, more difficult goal. And since 3:30 is proving pretty damn difficult I am fine having that goal still.

But the good news is that I did run a PR and icing on the cake I nabbed first in my age group.

Here are the details:
Time: 3:37:07 chiptime (3:37:22 gun time) Yes, I know that is only a 20 second off my PR at Chicamauga but trust me. Atlanta is a way tougher course. So I see it has a bigger improvement than it first looks.
Half split: 1:45--I actually thought I skated in under 1:45 but no. I was hoping to hit the half at 1:42-44 to bank some time. The first 1/3 though ended up being tougher than I remembered.
Overall Place: 150 out of 730 finishers
Gender Place: 14 out of 178 women
Division (35-39 age group): 1st out of 33. Hell. Yes!

On to the boring details.

The day before I didn't run. I was trying all sorts of new and crazy stuff after my DNF at the Silver Comet Half in October. First there was that week off from running during what should have been a peak week. I had planned to follow my peak week of 72 miles with an even bigger peak week of 80 miles. Well, clearly my plan did not work out at all. Instead I rode my bike, swam, did yoga, and lifted weights and debated what to do about my training.

After a week off from running the swelling in my legs was down and I was able to resume running without pain or calf or tendon issues. I held the mileage at 53-42 miles a week during November up to the race. I cut out the heavy cross training with the bike and swim. After my last long run of 21 miles 3 weeks out I just ran faster shorter runs and did lots of yoga and lifted weights to strengthen my lower leg muscles and maintain upper body tonality. I had never done a 3 week taper for any of my marathons. So I was really worried about how this would play out and also how fat I was going to get.

So not running the day before the marathon was new for me and I kept myself busy with Thanksgiving preparation, making signs for the kids to hold at the race and making sure I had everything together. I asked Ryan, thinking he would laugh in my face, if he and the kids would drive me to the start and drop me off. I am a person who believes it never hurts to ask. Being this type of person means that I am okay with hearing no and in fact I expected it. But surprisingly he agreed. I mean Ryan hasn't driven me to a race since before we had kids. Wait, here is me after my first ever race the 1998 Atlanta Half marathon--he drove me to that (ah, young love):
I was asleep by 10:30--almost unheard of for me the night before a race. I slept lightly but slept and got up at 4:45. Made coffee, took the dog out, had a glass of water, small bowl of Uncle Sam's cereal and a whole wheat bagel and cream cheese with salt. I showered, dressed and stretched and then woke everyone up. We were in the car and on the road by 6:14am. One minute ahead of schedule. I listened to my ipod to tune out the children. Their morning chatter was making me anxious.

To short cut through more boring exposition here is the cliff notes version of why running the full on Thanksgiving morning is better than doing the half:
1. You can park at the start and the finish--they are the same and there is plenty of parking. No MARTA. I mean really, that fact alone makes the extra 13.1 worthwhile.

2. Speaking of plenty there is basically enough johnny on the spots that every marathoner gets their own. No wait lines to pee. Again, yet another stand alone reason as to why the full is better than the half.

3. A tent. With a heater in it. And coffee and Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Water and Gatorade. I don't like doughnuts so that isn't enough to make me want to run an extra 13.1 mile s but I know plenty of people who might want to.

4. You don't have to go line up until about 5 minutes before the start. So not a lot of standing around and freezing.

5. The start time is 7:30 am not 7 am like the half. Oh and you only need to get there about 20-30 minutes before the race. Really, you could just show up at 7:25 and have no problem.

I met up with Doug (Steph's husband) in the tent with the heater and the doughnuts and at 7:20 something we headed over to the start. I kissed Ryan and the kids good bye. While Doug and I walked I steered him towards the front. I told him it would matter in the results where we seeded ourselves since they went by guntime not chiptime. He laughed at me and asked if I thought I had a chance at winning. I laughed back and said no but did say that second place woman last year was around 3:30 and 4 years ago when I ran it I was 4th in my age group. He pointed out that the field was twice the size this year but still lined up where I decided we should. I was further affirmed in my lining up choice when the girl in front of me said her goal time was 3:30. I also, at the point, let go the silly notion of any kind of placement award. Oh well. Boston or bust was the goal. Mama needed a 2010 BQ qualifier since my 2009 will be going to waste since we are taking a trip to New Orleans in May. Damn finances and stupid bad economy.

And with little fan fare we were off. The first few miles are easy: little baby rollers. Tiny blips until mile 6 when the first bad uphill comes. Then there would be another to follow that would top out at the 8th mile. And then I thought it was all easy peasy until mile 20 when the hill hell of a last 10k would begin.

It was cold but I was heated up before we even finished the first mile and Doug kindly held my fuel bottle while I un-shirted and tied it around my waist. Doug and I goofed off and joked for the first few miles--throwing up our hands and waving our fingers and saying "Jazz Hands!" Don't ask. It was my idea.

I told Doug that this course was a "tour of bars I have been to" marathon. I had to remind him of this point when were in the 6th mile and I suggested we make a pit stop and see "the ladies". He thought it was funny that I knew where those clubs were.

Doug, like his wife, was my keeper and kept reminding me to keep it reigned in. But really that wasn't so hard to do. The 7:54 average we were maintaining didn't feel as easy as I had hoped. I know for me to run a 3:30 marathon an eight minute pace has to feel like nothing. I could tell my heart rate was higher than it should have been. Not a lot but was still high. I don't really know all that science but I do know that if an 8 minute mile is the pace you want to hold for 26 miles--especially 26 miles where the hilliest part isn't until after the 20 mile mark--the 8 minute mile pace needs to feel like you are on a walk with your grandma. And it just didn't feel like that. Now it didn't feel impossible or like I was going to die, it just wasn't easy. So I was worried.

Apparently this must have read on my face. Steph, Doug's wife, was volunteering at the 5 mile water station. Later, after the race, she told me I didn't look good then and she didn't think the race was going to go well for me. I wasn't hurting--body felt pretty good-- but I was worried and aware that even though I was running sub 8 pace (we hit 5 miles around 39:xx) it wasn't going to last. Remember, I've run this race before so I was concerned about the later carnage that was going to happen. This is my 3rd marathon where I run up Peachtree to the finish. The previous 2 (Atlanta 2005 and GaING 2007) were a death march that I walked most of the last 5-10k. And that just wasn't the vision I had in mind for my 2008 Thanksgiving marathon.

I have to admit that as much as I liked having Doug's company-- and he was probably keeping me from going out too fast-- it was driving me crazy that he seemed to be having an easier time with the pace. Right before our first big hill at 6 miles he stopped to pee and easily and effortlessly caught up to me. Grr. . .

Then coming up the long hill to the 8th mile (Corner of Piedmont and Peachtree) he was all still happy jazz hands while my heart rate was in the attic. See, here we are at the end of that hill.

Here is closer one that it is unfortunate looking of me (in mid blowing kiss pose) but just look how happy and easy Doug looks. There was that small part of me that hated him, wanted to trip him. Sorry, Doug. You know I love you!

It really took me awhile to get beyond the hills at 6 and 8 miles. They had done a number on me. Just as I would start to feel better a little false hill would be there to take me out. It was then that I started to remember how the first time I had run this course that I felt like the whole thing was uphill.

The 11th mile is always a rough patch for me anyway in any long run I do, so at least I was expecting it to suck then. I really don't know how to get past that. In training I have tried making my mid length runs closer to 16 miles rather than closer to 10 but nothing seems to have done the trick. 11 miles is still a down spot for me. So it annoyed me when Doug stopped again to pee. I even thought, ha! I am going to drop him. Punish him for making it seem so easy.

But no kidding within 3 minutes there he was at my shoulder doing that damn jazz hand thing that I started. Happy Doug. Pissed off Nat. I resigned myself to the fact that eventually I would be getting dropped. I did have to pee and I remembered that in 2005 there was a Johnny-on-the-Spot around 15 miles that I stopped at. I figured that would be a good stopping point and I could bail out of the pace gracefully under the guise of a potty break.

I worked hard to stay with Doug and the little pack we had around us. We passed a few people and I don't think many, if any, passed us. I know the men where chit chatting but I was having my pity party and was trying to listen to my music and just wishing that the half point would hurry up and get here. And finally it was.

Then I was annoyed that there was a little hill. It was suppose to be downhill and flat now. What the hell is this little hill now? I didn't remember that hill from the half--since I thought we were now at the start of the half marathon course, nor did I remember it from the year I ran the full. So this made me realize that I wasn't in too great of shape since this "hill" has always been there and I never noticed it before. Not good, not good at all. My hamstrings were feeling tight. Not bad but there is a feeling I get in the hamstrings when I run my tempo or faster runs or shorter races. Never had it in a marathon. I was also feeling like vomiting. I had just had my second Gu and I felt certain the first was still sitting there in my tummy. I knew I had to get my heart rate down so the Gu would digest. I just had that full feeling and it isn't a fun feeling to run with. Doug was still being the cheerleader usually his wife is and was trying to encourage me as the miles went by: More than half way done Nat! He would say, or; Now we are going to have flat area! Soon a downhill! Jazz hands! Why oh why did I start that stupid jazz hand thing? Add that to the list of "Dumb Things Nat Thinks Up During a Marathon".

Finally sometime in the 15th mile my Johnny-on-the-Spot appeared and I told Doug to go, I would catch him if I could. I tried to hustle but I did take advantage of my little break. After wards, I was feeling much better and typically the 15-22 mile range of a marathon is my strong suit. Not to mention this was the fast part of the course. I probably only lost 40 seconds stopping to pee and figured I could catch Doug in no time.

Wrong!

When I started back I couldn't even see Doug. And worse there were now a few women in front of me that hadn't been there. (I did manage to pass all the girls but one and then only one other would pass me the rest of the race but not until mile 23).

I was shocked at how much had changed in the half minute or so I had been gone. So I started running! I switched the screen on Garmin from the average pace setting to current pace. Current pace never went above 7:30 and I even saw 6:46 at one point. After a few minutes I had Doug and the guy he was running with that had a bright green singlet that said "Go Daddy Go" in my sight. But no matter how hard I tried I couldn't close the gap significantly. I kept thinking if I run like mad I will catch them and then I can rest. Then I realized how irrational that sounded and after a bit at a 7 minute pace I got a hold of myself and said if I catch them I catch them. Chill.

So I slowed it down but still kept the pace below 8 minute miles but well above a 7--because 7's for me is barely manageable in a 10k so they definitely have no business anywhere in a marathon.

Around 18 miles I came up on Ryan and the kids:
At this point I was feeling great! This is was how I had wanted, expected to feel. That just goes to tell you what uphills do to me. I feel like I weigh 15 extra pounds. On flat and downhills I feel like I am flying! I love it.
Here is some video Ryan shot in the 18th mile. Sorry it is sideways.

I finally caught Doug in the 19th mile. This is the only true downhill on the course and it is huge and it absolutely trashes your quads. But I love it! I love it in the half and I love in the Peachtree. I am, if nothing else, good at running the downhills. I know that doesn't say much for me as a runner but it is my gift.

I couldn't believe how fantastic I was feeling. Mile 19 never feels this good! I basically said hi to Doug at the top of the hill and he told me to "go get 'em!" I ran as fast as I could manage down that hill and hit the 20 mile mark at just a few seconds over 2 hours and 40 minutes. Almost spot on for a 3:30 pace.

Sigh. If only that last 10k wasn't all up hill! Even if it was rolling hills 3:30 would have been in my reach. So I knew as I started up Cardiac Hill (did I mention the hills in this race have names? They had a contest to name them.) that 3:30 was gone. I wasn't sad because I had known since the first few miles it wasn't mine to have. I was just thrilled to have gotten where I was feeling this good. Keep in mind every race in 2008 I have felt like absolute ass and here I was at mile 20 of a marathon feeling like how I use to feel when I ran. It was a great feeling.

And, even better, I was happy because I had an hour and five minutes left to run the final 10k and I could still qualify for Boston. Talk about having no pressure. I could have walked and enjoyed myself. Stopped and had a cup of coffee. But my goal of a PR was still within reach and so I had to hang on that ledge. And hang for dear life I did.

By 22 miles I was at 3 hours and one minute. For a 3:30 you need to hit the 22 mark in 2 hours and 56 minutes. Yeah, mile 20 and 21 were slow! But I was still okay, not going to bonk, not too uncomfortable, and still hanging on the ledge. And I just couldn't run any faster if I tried. Believe me I wanted to but I had Scarlet O'Hilla, Grade Expectations and Capitol Punishment left to go. There is no real downhill until 25.5 mile mark. Just uphills plateauing.

I kept visualizing what I had left; where I had to go still. And during this time I thought my thoughts about Evan and how nothing hurt more than that. And when I would start to waver, wanting to walk "for just a bit", I reminded myself about the 23.5 mile long run I had done through Indian Hills in training and then in the afternoon that same day the 4.5 trail miles I ran at a 9:30 pace. I could do this, slowly but I could do it.

So keeping those thoughts with me I told myself I could run all the way up Peachtree to the finish. Seriously. I don't know how much I can stress this: Yes, in the Peachtree road race and in the Atlanta half I have always run up Peachtree Road-- no problem-- but at both Ga ING and in my first marathon I walked so much up Peachtree. So just running--no matter how slow-- was just huge for me. I was so dang proud to be running up those hills, not walking up them! More than time that was my goal for this marathon.

Sometime around the Fox Ryan and the kids drove past me. Beau had his window down and was yelling to everyone "Walking is Not an option!"

I am sure a lot of people thought that was really, really cute.

I felt like the morning was just flying by. Normally at this point in a marathon time seems to be slowing down but I didn't have that feeling at all. Yes. My legs felt like lead weights but I wasn't in pain! I felt better at mile 24 than I did at mile 21 of any of those 10 long runs I did in training.

After I passed Underground I kept looking for Mitchell Street. There is a tiny downhill right before you run up past the Capitol. It seemed like it was taking an eternity. Finally. Mitchell Street and I started running as hard as could manage and passed lots of people. I was like; Out of my way people! I've got places to be!

I looked at Garmin. Oh boy, a PR was going to be close. Run, don't let it go!

I was trying to do all sorts of silly math. I wasn't sure how far I had to go exactly since Garmin was off. And I wasn't sure how far "behind" the clock I was. I figured I had to make it up Capitol Punishment in less than 2 minutes. My friend Karen from Big Peach was volunteering, saw me and started running up Punishment with me yelling Go Nat! Towards the top I asked her to take my hydration bottle and was thankful that she did.

Hills! All. Done. Yeah!!!

Home free! Go go go!

Come on down hill! Here it is! Go! I have lots to give but am soooo glad to almost be done! I glanced at Garmin; he was flasing a sub 7:30 pace. Go Nat go!Pick it up, pick it up!

I just flew past people. Heard them yelling my name. Oh, it all felt so fabulous and horrible at the same time. Then I saw the clock 3:37:22--whoo hoo! Barely a PR but a PR nonetheless. I'll take it! So happy. Other runners call out to me congrats and great race. Yes, yes it was! Best marathon so far for me! Just think. If I hadn't stopped to pee I could have come in under 3:37. I'll have to remember to pee on myself next time. (kidding)

And here is that finish line video:


Some finish line photos:
So happy and feeling great! Carmella made me a wood and weed bouquet:

I'd been running the race a few steps behind the vomit and tummy trouble line. My stomach really started to hurt upon finishing.
Doug coming in. He ran 4:27 at ING as his first last spring and 8 months later he runs 3:51 at Atlanta. He even set a 6 minute PR at the half split. 36 minute PR on a tough course is amazing!!!! Thanks so much for running with me!

The Aftermath:
As always Peachtree Road did a number on my quads. I don't know what it is about that road but after every race on it (well except the Peachtree, 10k's don't leave me sore) my quads are trashed. And they feel the worst ever after this race than any others. Good news is my calves felt pretty good. Say what you will about my compression socks but they make a difference for me during and after a race.

I ran 3.4 miles Friday after down on the Column's Dr trail while the kids rode their bikes. Felt good running and then after wards it was so much worse; everything stiffer, my fatigue inordinate and I was just worthless the rest of the day. I even watched an Adam Sandler movie. I hate Adam Sandler. That is how paralyzed I was. My thinking is that I shouldn't have stopped running. It doesn't seem to hurt until you stop.

Today I did an hour of yoga. It was embarrassing how uncoordinated I was but my legs feel so much better, looser for it. I plan on running tomorrow and then am looking at doing some local 5k's in December. Figure it is about time I run one of those. I was hoping to do the Alpharetta Marathon but it looks like they canceled it. So now, since I have designated myself "home town girl" because of the crappy economy, I am looking at Callaway Gardens or Aviation marathon in Jan, or Snicker's in March and of course Ga ING. Any others that I don't know about? Thoughts on any of those?

Thanks, as always, for reading and being so encouraging!

Shout outs to Anne and Tara and Carrie. 3 of my oldest friends and they all ran the Atlanta Half for their first ever half marathon. Heck, I think it was Carrie's first race. You guys are awesome!

Heaven's Proximity and Thanksgiving Day

As many of you know, if you've been reading this blog for awhile,November 24th is the 2nd anniversary of my nephew Evan's death. For those that haven't been following along for a few years, my nephew Evan died the day after Thanksgiving in 2006 from complications from bacterial meningitis. He was a few months shy of his third birthday and his loss has caused my family inexplicable pain and we still miss having him in our life every single day.

My sister in law Pam, my brother, family and friends gathered at a park to release balloons to remember Evan yesterday. My kids and Ryan and I couldn't make it out to their park but we also released balloons to remember Evan at a park near us. To explain to the kids what we were doing we told them we were sending notes to Evan in heaven.

Carmella had no problem with this and wrote a very sweet note telling him that she missed him everyday and hoped that he was having fun in heaven and she loved him always.

Beau, ever my little scientist, commented as we watched the balloons disappear from sight that he just "didn't think it was going to work." He explained that surely a plane or lightening would take the balloons out before they and our notes could reach Evan in heaven. Heaven, he explained, was very far away. There was even mention of Mars and Pluto.

Carmella told him that of course the balloons would make it. Heaven was closer to us than planes and planets, she explained, somehow, to Beau. And then there was much running a muck and it was starting to rain harder and then Beau face planted in the mud and we took that as our cue to leave.

Two weeks ago, when I did my final longish run I found myself remembering Evan and Thanksgiving morning--the day before he died. Evan sometimes has a way of sneaking into my thoughts when I do those long runs. It is okay, most times welcomed even. Not sure why but it can be motivating somehow; the anger and that overwhelming emotion of loss. At the very least, it is a diversion-- something else to focus on, unspool in my head and get me through the miles. And since I am in the taper for Atlanta marathon I can't help but think of my past Atlanta half marathons/marathon races. Especially the one I ran on November 23rd 2006.

I never wrote a post about the race and just had a blurb in one of my posts that I ran it and it was my best time for the course. At the time, the race was such a small, insignificant part of that terrible Thanksgiving day because it was about 2 hours after finishing that race that we found out we would lose Evan forever. But since then, I have found, my memory of that day is entangled in running, or rather more specifically the Atlanta half marathon-- and by default the Atlanta Marathon since the last 13.1 miles of the full course is the half marathon course.

And anyone who has ever run a marathon will tell you the real running doesn't even begin until that second 13.1 miles. Or sure there are those that argue even about it being the last 10k but regardless I think of the first half as just a warm up. (Right I warm up that run wayyy tooo fast. Neither here nor there.) I personally don't even consider that I am running 26.2 miles until I hit the half point. Up until then I am just thinking about getting to 13.1 miles. That is all I am doing. Not at all worried about what might happen after that point. Which, right, might be why I have such a tough time in the last half. What can I say, I am often guilty of not seeing the big picture.


Anyway . . . my point is that I can't help but think about Evan now on that course and so I have wondered how that will play out for me in what can be the valley of darkness already in a marathon. Ever since I signed up for the full marathon I've been riddled with this question.

And on my last long run two weeks ago and throughout this taper this is how I have answered it for myself: I have lit upon the notion that I will tell myself I got through those 13.1 miles two years ago on an impossible day under such impossible duress and ridiculous obstacles that surely I can get through it easily having only run 13.1 miles. Which of course, I'll be the first to admit, that everything sounds possible in theory.

Allow me to further explain where I am coming from on this. Keep in mind my thinking process also has to do with how crappy my races have been this year. I feel like I haven't been able to "suck it up" where as I use to consider myself queen of sucking it up and getting it done in a race. I have not had the best of luck in races in general: bad weather, race disorganization, lack of sleep, injury, sickness, bad weather etc. But really, I've come to realize the Atlanta half marathon 2006 really stands out as a triumph over adversity in terms of a race. (I know. One might be inclined to wonder why I keep doing these things. I sure do. And I don't really have an answer other than I seem to think they are fun.)

Race day here is how I found myself: Even taking out the equation of what was happening with Evan the odds were not in my favor to have a good race that day anyway. I had raced the Silver Comet half marathon less than a month before and nailed a pr at that time of 1:41--an almost 15 minute improvement of my fastest half marathon at the time. Two weeks later and 12 days before the Atlanta half I had ran the Outer Banks Marathon in pouring rain and cold and set a new 23 minute marathon PR of 3:42. Then a few days after the marathon I came down with bronchitis and a sinus infection. So Thanksgiving morning I was on day eight of a two week course of antibiotics. I was definitely better --able to smell again and breathe without hitting the inhaler every 15--but the doctor had instructed me not run or if I did to "take it easy." (It is funny, but I just recalled--upon writing this-- that I actually passed that doctor in the first mile of the race.)

So those facts alone were points indicating that I probably wouldn't have a great race. But of course I still wanted to run-- no matter how ridiculous of an idea it was to run. I love this race. Why? Seriously, I don't know. But I do!

But add to those strikes of why not race that I had a family crisis going on and well, most rational people would have bagged the race. However, we had been given hopeful news of Evan on Wed afternoon, so ever the optimist I went through my regular pre race rituals and laid out my clothes--number pinned to my outfit and ready to go. Though I admit that when I climbed into bed at 11 pm that night that I knew I might not be running.

At midnight my mom called and asked me to come down to Children's-- the latest news was not good. I didn't ask questions or really think but grabbed my clothes on the way out the door and drove down to the hospital. My sister, who was also signed up for the race was there too. From about 1 am until 4 am we just sat and stared at each other and had those inane conversations that seem to only occur in ICU waiting rooms. Finally we were told that we would not be able to find anything out until the neurologist came on duty at 11 am and that Evan was stable.

So since we were up my sister and I decided we would go run. The choice, at the time, seem logical: sit in ICU waiting room or run 13.1 miles. I mean, sleep wasn't even on the table so really, those were our only choices.

Oddly it was the most perfect weather for racing as I have ever had running the Thanksgiving race not that, at the time, I thought it was going to make any difference. I was just looking for a little distraction, alone time with my music, thoughts and doing the thing that makes me feel good: running.

I remember trying to convince my sister to come closer to the front but she wouldn't go any closer than the middle of the 8 minute milers. I wished her luck and walked up closer to the 7's. We were off and as we rolled down Peachtree Industrial towards day light the heaviness of the day hit me. By the end of the first mile I was a heaving, crying mess. I wanted to be done. I couldn't do it. Sometime around mile 3 I pulled myself together and began my mantra that got me through the race: I can't quit cause Evan can't quit. Funny the deals we will make. Like we really have that sort of control and bartering power.

I was so tired and sad and worried and wanted nothing more than to quit. But I didn't and ran as hard as I could that day because getting done would get me back to the hospital where I decided, after starting the race, was actually where I was suppose to be.

I vaguely remember crossing the finish line and knowing that I had a run a great race but didn't care at all. There was no elation or joy in finishing as there usually is; only relief to be done with it.

I found my brother in law and waited for my sister to finish. She had also ran her best time and had a similar race experience to mine. There was nothing to be said and we went to her house showered and back to the hospital where the day further unraveled in its horror and despair.

As I have gotten closer to the marathon, which is now only two short days away, this memory gets clearer. Every run I have done it has edged its way in. At first I have that knot of sadness in my stomach that makes me want to throw up but then it turns into this crazy anger that is like a fire. I find myself breaking my promise to take it easy in the taper and it is like it was that day-- wanting to get it done and over and move past it-- and I just run as hard as I can.

So see, here I am two years later and I still have that same emotion: pain-despair-frustration-thing-that-I-don't-have-a-name-for- and nor do I know how to get past it-- over it, beyond it. But what I do know and have been thinking is that maybe, maybe I can manage it. Maybe even harness it. . .

And so here is what I am hoping: that the thing that gets me through those last dark and painful miles of the marathon will be the understanding that nothing ever hurts worse than the pain of losing someone forever. So this, this little thing, this thing that I do called running? Is infinitely easier. Suck. It. Up.

And with that (assuming I keep this cold at bay that I feel is brewing) know that I--marathon runner 794-- will be going for broke on Thanksgiving morning.

Thanks for listening.

2007 Chickamauga Marathon: Race Report

See how I wrote 2007 there in the title?

Well, that is because I plan on doing this one again. And so yeah, maybe I've only done 4 marathons but Chickamauga is my favorite.

Wait, I think this picture about says it all:

That is me seeing the clock and throwing up my arms and cheering for myself. Unfortunately what I don't have a picture of is me, right after I cross the finish line, jumping up and down and punching the air like I just scored a touch down.

I had an amazing race.

No, not that perfect race--at least not in my book-- BUT it was the best race that I have done so far. So much right came together for this race that the only fault I have with it is with myself for not pushing harder. I know I could have. I learned so much from this race about me as a runner. And next time I am putting that knowledge to use.

Wait, here is another finish line picture:

Before I get into all the boring details let me give a quick rundown of the marathon. It is mostly in the Chickamauga Battlefield Park. It is a rolling double loop course. There are hills and depending on where you train you will either find this course extremely difficult or just somewhat challenging. The second loop, though the same as the first, felt infinitely more arduous. In my limited experience I would say this course was similar to ING GA but easier because you don't have the final push, I mean death walk, up Peachtree. But there is a hill at 22 and 24 miles and then it is pretty flat to the finish. The course itself is gorgeous but it does look very similar throughout: wide open grassy fields with deer grazing, marble monuments, civil war markers and cannons. Lots of winding asphalt roads (no cement)and lots of fall foliage. Very very pretty-- the epitome of south east fall scenery.

The race is also small and very intimate. Only 500 people ran it. So you will probably find yourself alone on the course. There is also not a lot of spectators but the ones that are there are very very enthusiastic. There are tons of very well stocked aid stations: water, every flavor of powerade, ibuprofen, bananas, oranges and cliff shot blocks. Porto lets along the course. There was also rolling medics on bikes that patrolled the course. There was a huge after race spread--pizza, cokes, food etc. They even frame the bibs of those doing their first marathon. Honestly I cannot think of a single negative thing to say about this race.

Okay, on to the boring details . . .

Let me begin at the begin.

We--Ryan and I-- drove up to Chattanooga Friday after lunch. Bubbles and Poppy took the kids in their car and Meme and Pat and baby Pat went in their car.

We met up with Poppy and Bubbles and kids at the expo. Poppy was running the 10 mile and he needed to get his number. Kids were collecting as much swag--which wasn't much--as they could get their hands on. Meme and Pat went straight to the cabin on Lookout Mt. that we had rented.

I only mention the expo so I can bring up the shirt. The expo was probably the smallest for a marathon that I have been to. BUT the shirt they gave me was the bestest ever. And here is the secret: Chickamauga Marathon is the deal of the century. I paid $40 for the race and I got an Asiacs technical shirt. In a woman's size. In a good color. With a nice design and a perfect fit. I want to wear this shirt everyday to run in. It is that great.

After the expo we headed to the cabin. Which if you do this race next year--which I think you should (but don't tell too many of your friends)--I highly recommend bringing the family and renting a cabin. Our cabin was about 15 minutes from Chattanooga and 35 minutes from the start--though had we been more map proficient it was only about 20 minutes. Here is a few pictures of home for the weekend:

The family in the backyard (and probably Bubbles's Christmas card photo):

Horses in our backyard:

Fire pit:

Hello! Smores! Is there a better carbo loading food than that?

I went to bed when the kids did. Everyone else stayed up and had a good time. That part sucked, as Lord knows that I do not like to miss a party, but I definitely did not want ride the hangover train.

I didn't sleep well but I didn't expect to. I had "banked" my sleep all week by making sure I got 8-9 hours every night in anticipation of my inevitable fitful race night sleep. Basically I laid down for 7 hours. And since there are periods that I don't remember being awake I have to think that maybe I was asleep then.

I woke up at 10 til 5 am. I got in the shower and took--to my dismay-- an invigorating ice cold shower. Poppy determined that the hot water heater had been turned down. Yay me for being the guinea pig. Not exactly how I wanted to ease into the morning but it certainly woke me up.

Had my usual Uncle Sam's and coffee. Did the debate of what to wear. And Poppy and I headed out around 6:15. We got to the start--which was at a church. We got our timing chips and hung out inside the heated church with clean, well stocked restrooms and coffee and chatted and stretched. At one point Poppy asked me if had something--I don't remember what--but I answered--what don't I have? Everyone within earshot laughed as I had Garmin, ipod, fanny pack with Gu's, phone, mittens, water bottle etc. I was a total girl scout. Even while running someone commented that I might shave 30 seconds off each mile I dropped some of my stuff. But you know, until I get that sponsor and sag wagon I'll just carry my own crap. Better safe than sorry. It may annoy me but it would bother me more not to have it all. I's needs my stuff people. And yeah, those same people who laughed at me sure did like to know what Garmin said pace was.

Around 7:15 I headed to the start after one last potty break. I ran into Gary, who is the brother of a friend from high school. I see him all the time at races and never say anything but decided to be social. He remembered me and said he had just done Marine Corps 2 weeks ago. I did see him on the course and he was about 1/2 mile ahead of me. I saw him at the finish and he said he had to drop out: Achilles issues. I encouraged him to do the Atlanta half at Thanksgiving.

I also ran into Wes! who was running the 10 mile. We chatted and he wished me luck. It is always nice to see friendly faces. People! Come talk to me at races. I'm chatty. I'll talk to anyone.


I noticed that there was a guy with a handmade "3:30 pacer" sign pinned on his back. I asked him if I could try to hang with him and told him that I would fade as my goal was under 3:40 but knew I probably had a 3:30 in me on a magical day. Our conversation was cut short by the race start. Guards in full dress with flags sang the National Anthem. Everyone around me sang. I did not. Not because I am unpatriotic but because I see no need to embarrass myself right off the bat. After some quick directions we all got in our places to prepare for the start. I lined up next to the 3:30 pacer. I pointed out to him that we were front and center and asked if he was planning to bolt out with a sub 6 pace. He said no and we moved a few spaces back and left.

And pop went the gun.

Or maybe someone said go. I have no idea. I just go when everyone else does. Seems the thing to do.

3:30 pacer and I introduced ourselves. His name was Dave. He is an ultra runner and he explained to me his strategy for the race: negative split and walk breaks. He said the first few miles would be 8:10ish and over the course of the race we would push the pace to 7:50. I pointed out to him at the first mile that we were 7:45. We slowed the pace but still remained under an 8 minute pace for the first several miles.

I prattled on nonstop about who knows what. I normally put my head phones on and check out. I have never carried on a conversation for more than a mile in a race. But I chatted, okay I ran on at the mouth for the entire first half of the race. No music. Just chatting. Who knew? It was nice and the race flew by.

In our group was Andrew--he was 16 and it was his first marathon. Joey who was 26 and it was also his first marathon. Then there was Dustin who was also 26 and doing his first marathon. He was always a bit a ahead and I hung with him when Dave and the other 2 did their walk breaks. I had my doubts about the walk breaks.

Note: Garmin had us ahead on the course from about the 2nd mile marker. By the end of the race I had 26.56. Other people commented that their GPS was long too. I think this is probably because the course was curvy and you couldn't take the short arc-- which I assume was how it was measured.

The first half came soon and though I'll have to look but I am pretty certain that the 1:45 split was 1-3 minutes slower than I ran at OBX and GA ING--I think those were 1:43 and 1:42 respectively.

The course was rolling hills but it felt pretty easy, nice and comfortable for the first loop. Though I was apprehensive knowing such would not be the case the second time around. Sometime around mile 14 I decided I would try one of Dave's walk breaks. It was up a hill and only about 15 seconds. This is where the wheels started to come off. As I suspected it was hard for me to get started and get back to the pace. Over the course of the mile I fell further and further back. And even when they took their walk breaks I still couldn't catch back up. So I tucked my head down, turned on my ipod and kept their backs in view. By the 16th mile I looked up and they were gone and I was totally alone on the course. Somewhere around here there was a fork and I was going to go right but just then 2 men came along and passed me. They went left. Whew! Lucky they passed or who knows where I would have ended up. I was totally in lala land and somehow missed seeing the big giant white arrow pointing left until I was on top of it. Der.

I was really feeling sorry for myself and I was hurting. Nothing specific just that general all over achiness. I wanted to quit. But it really wasn't an option since I knew Ryan and the kids were not on the course. I wouldn't see them until the finish. So I just kept plodding forward. My thinking was if I have to finish I am going to keep running--even though it hurts--because walking or stopping is going to make it take that much longer.

Then in the 17th mile going up a hill I got it: the second wind. Totally came out of nowhere. I guess counting down the miles and no longer being in the double digits mentally helped (--or more likely the Gu's kicked in). For some reason saying to myself less than 75 minutes seems totally doable. Or maybe it just took me getting use to that pain. Whatever the case I started to pick up the pace. Around this time running up a hill I came upon Andrew (the 16 year old). He was walking up the hill. I patted him on the back. I gave him a sympathetic look and told him to hang in there, he could do it.

I had been passed a good bit in the 14-17 miles where I had my pity party. But by 18 miles I was beginning to pass some of those same people and also new people. Even though I was feeling better I was being conservative as I counted the miles down. A lot can happen in that last 10k. I was worried mile 22 was going to be my undoing. It usually is. But it never happened. In fact I just kept feeling better and better. Even had a smile on my face.

I hit 22 miles at 3 hours and 2 minutes. I just kept pressing the pace and really started passing people. In fact I don't think anyone passed me at this point. I saw Joey --the 26 year old--in mile 24 and told him to run; that in less than 15 minutes it would be over--10 minute miles I said: you can do it. He shook his head at me but I looked over my shoulder and he had started running. He crossed the finish line shortly after me.

I felt strong until right after I passed the 26 mile marker and then suddenly felt the beginnings of a calf cramp. I seriously thought it would take me out but I choose to ignore it and it never manifested and I was able to sprint the final stretch.

Final time was 3:37:27--almost a 6 minute personal record from the 3:42:43 at OBX exactly one year ago. Even more so it is 31 minutes faster than the 4:08 I ran at the Atlanta full (my first marathon) 2 years ago on Thanksgiving. And it is also nice that I have a another Boston qualifier that once I finally get the funds together I will be eligible to run it.

Icing on the cake came a bit later when I found out that I was first in my age group--8th female over all. That said there was only 15 in my age group and only a hundred or so women. Even still, I am happy with myself. I like that I continue to see improvements in my race times. It is nice that I haven't yet hit that age ceiling.

It was a great race and I think my troubles in the middle miles had partially to do with my body maybe not digesting the GU's very well or me taking that 3rd one too late. I had one at the start, one at 5 miles and then another right before 14 miles. In retrospect I should have had it at 11 miles. I had my last one right at 19 miles and I think that was probably about right. I think my other problem was that I was somewhat unprepared to feel pain so early in the race. Generally I am pretty much pain free til closer to the 20 mile mark. Once I accepted that I could run with pain and that in fact picking up the pace helped, I was able to put the wheels back on and get it done. I am always somewhat conservative about my pace after the first half as I worry I won't have enough gas. But Saturday I felt like by the 20 mile mark I was just hitting my groove again so I sort of feel like I held too much back.

I don't know. On the otherhand, I am thankful for Dave--the pacer-- because he forced me to go out several minutes slower than I had planned. I had thought I would hit the first half at 1:43 and then figured the second half in 1:53-55 or so (never optimistic about a negative split). But then again I could have slowed more--so who knows. The marathon is such a beast for me to pace. But I do think experience is teaching me what I am capable of, what works and what doesn't. Still on that learning curve, I guess.

And so . . . in this post marathon afterglow . . . I am serisouly considering doing the Atlanta full on Thanksgiving. I have until Sunday to decide and register. I keep thinking my sanity will return and I will stick to the do-the-half-on-Thanksgiving plan but the more I think about it the more I want to run the whole thing.

I'll let you know what I decide.

In the meantime go ahead and put Chickamauga Marathon on your calendar for next year.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Rumor is there was a celebrity running. This guy says it is Lance. I don't know. What do you think? I will say I did see that guy --not the blogger-- around the 3rd mile. He was right in front of us and Dave commented on his ugly shoes. And then we started a conversation about running shoes. I didn't really look at the guy but I didn't get that tingly feeling that I would think I would get if I was in the prescence of a 7 time Tour de France winner. You'd just think that I would have some notion about it. And honestly, even if it was Lance I probably would have sprinted after him just to check if maybe he brought Matthew along too. Drool. So. Very. Yummy.