Over the Rainbow (Or better: yet) Kicking that Damn Leprechaun to the Curb and Running Like I Stole His Gold 2009 Georgia Marathon Race Report!

So Dorothy sings: Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue.
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.

Huh. Who knew? Not me!

But sometimes, I think, perseverance pays off.

And sometimes, I also think, it boils down to a lucky day.

And other times, it is because Silly Lilly calls it (thanks GB!)



I, on the other hand, for not one second before-- or even during-- the race thought it was going to happen until I rounded the curve to the finish and saw the finish line clock flip to 3:30.


And imagine my happiness after crossing and hitting my watch and seeing 3:29:58 and later finding the official chip time and it being faster.

So yep! Apparently 3rd time was the charm. . .

Natalie Fischer #2018

Age: 37 Gender: F

Distance	MARATHON
Clock Time	3:30:27
Chip Time	3:29:51
Overall Place	188 / 2076
Gender Place	25 / 713
Age Grade	66.2%
Division place(W30-39)	9
Splits:
10K	47:57
Half	1:41:13
20M	2:37:28

So.Very.Happy.

Me after I finally found Ryan and right before my lips turned blue because I was.so.very.cold. Always with the pretty after a marathon.

Me being silly after the race with Pookie--she did the half and was unhappy with her 1:53 time--which I have no idea what she was expecting with her yoga-centric training regime that did not include much running.
Me with celebratory Sweetwater at Brick Store Pub in Decatur waiting for my celebratory hamburger. Mmmmmm beer, red meat.

Okay. The long winded blow by blow tale of my race:

This was the first marathon where I had someone else watch the kids the night before. It was great not having to get them ready, make them breakfast and fight with Beau about something inane. So huge thanks to Bubbles and Poppy for having them over to spend the night and keeping them all day Sunday too! Whew! How lucky am I? Those with littles know.

Also, Ryan was even nice enough to let me have the bed all to myself. Mostly because he didn't want to be blamed for keeping me up with his snoring and snuggling. I can't say I slept great but I definitely got more than I usually do before a race. And I won't say I woke up all refreshed like a spring day but I also didn't wake up feeling like Atlas either. So definitely off to a good start.

I got up at 4:30 am. Had coffee and Uncle Sam's and then a whole wheat bagel with cream cheese and salt. Water. Then I showered and stretched in the shower (right, naked stretching. No. I will not be going to naked yoga) and got dressed (no naked marathons either for that matter).

Ryan and I left about 5:45. In the car I realized I had left my hat at home. Small moment of control freak freak-out but I decided that it would be okay, that it was probably an unlucky hat anyway.

I reaffirmed myself with my mantra of the day: Positive attitude. It is a great day for a race and I will be happy and take whatever the day gives me. I love running and I am doing what I love.

I know that is pretty zen for me since I am in general negative and pessimistic. But I was channeling the happy for this race so even if I didn't believe it I tried my best to pretend and embrace it. I had to keep reminding myself of the happy a lot though.

Then I found my sunglasses so it was all okay. I have no idea why I thought I would need them. Guess it was my sunny outlook: it was so bright I might need shades????

As it was I did not need them and I wore them on my head until around 23 miles when I finally got tired of readjusting them on my head and tucked them in my sports bra realizing the sun?
It wasn't coming out.
Sunday?
That's right.
I was the sunshine!
Hey, on a dark and cloudy day even the pessimistic shine like the sun if they just smile a little.
Or something like that. . .

It was dark and kinda cold and little breezy at the start. We had Lola with us so Ryan wouldn't walk me to my corral so we parted ways and I guess he went over to my sister's.

I found my way to corral two and realized I was at the back end of it. This did not make me so happy and I was all about the happy on Sunday. So I politely as I could excused me and pardon'd myself up towards the front. When I got almost to the front Pookie saw me. I was not happy that we were smack in the middle of the corral as I prefer to be on the sides but we were sardined in and could neither go forward, back, right or left. I noticed that the 3:30 pace group was parallel to us so I figured it would be okay.

I never untie or tie my running shoes. I just slip in and out of them but I must have tied and retied them 10 times standing there waiting for the start. Finally it was go time and we were off. I took this time to embarrass my sister by yelling Go Pookie!!!!! Run Pookie!!!!! Yay Pookie! Pookie is my sister!! And she was like 'shut up asshole.' She LOVES me!

I chatted with her for a few minutes and then out of the corner of my eye I saw the 3:30 pace group catch up to us and was like uh, yeah this is my cue for game on. I wished Pookie a good race and took a deep breath and started focusing on the race.

I turned on my ipod and took in the city. The sun still wasn't up but the lights from the city were bright enough so it wasn't dark at all. As I ran down the road I saw parts of the city laid out before me; framed by the diminishing night sky. The sun was starting to break through the clouds and rays of light were wrapping around and reflecting brilliantly off the glass facades of the buildings. It looked to me like the sun was hugging Atlanta. It was a very peaceful and hopeful sight to me. So I just chilled out and told myself again; it is going to be a great day! I am going to have a great race. And at that moment I felt so happy I teared up a little. Not one for emotion I checked myself and found that I was at the first mile marker.
7:42! Perfect. I was very happy with that.

By the time I hit the split for the second mile marker I realized I really was feeling good! No tight calves, no pain, no lethargy. I just felt good. It was going to be a good day! Oh boy was I happy!

Hit the split for mile two: 7:32. Uhm, a little fast but damn I felt good!

All week I had practiced my super secret never gonna happen marathon pace which was right around 7:40. It had felt good all week--energizing even-- but that was on the treadmill with no incline. No way could I hold that on the hills-- not to mention-- much less for 26.2 miles. I doubted that I could even hold an 8 minute pace. Self doubt found it's way in as I reminded myself that this was my 3rd marathon in 4 months. I had struggled with illness and slight injury since my 2nd marathon in January. Really, I wondered, how much could ask of myself today?

As I pondered this I hit the split for the 3rd mile: 7:32--Holy crap! Two miles in a row exactly the same? 22:47 for 3 miles. Really fast but not impossible.

I tried to reign myself in. It was way too early with way too many hills and miles ahead of me to get excited about anything. I hit the split for mile 4: 7:52. Better!

I told myself right then that I would be grateful for whatever the day brought me. Just run, I said. And I hit the split for mile 5: 7:10. calm down woman! Miles and miles to go.
And I smiled and I ran.
Somewhere after hit the split for mile 6 (7:46) my friend Joe (my shoe guy, see previous post for picture) passed me. My first thought was holy crap what is going on. Joe, who I didn't think was running is a 2:28marathoner. I should never see Joe in a race. But he looked easy and I told him happily that he would see me crawling across the finish because I no business running this fast right now. And he was gone.

7 Mile split was 7:35. I just stopped caring. I toyed with the idea of completely ignoring the watch. Forgetting it. But I was worried that I might end up regretting that in the final miles. As I contemplated this thought I completely missed the mile marker for the 8 mile split. I realized that I had either missed it or slowed a lot on the long hill we had just run up. I asked and yep it had been at the aid station. So I got 8:41 .

As a result I have mile nine coming in at 6:37. Yeah, that's not right but averaging them it seemed that I was falling pretty close to that super secret marathon pace and boy was it a fun pace to be running.

Around this time I saw a pace group in front of me. I thought at first it was the 3:30 pace group. But then I started noticing the stragglers and they had 3:20 pace group signs on their back. Hmm. Yeah that's not gonna happen, don't look at them.

As it was I had to look down because by then I was at the terrible hill that made me lose the 3:30 pace group last year. I recalled the terribleness of that mile and that I had had a horrible hip cramp that stopped me in my tracks and made me think I should quit. I thought all about that as I ran up into Decatur--or where ever the hell it is. When I hit the split at the 10 mile marker--7:54--I was instantly I rallied.

I had made it up the hill still under the 3:30 pace! Boy that was hopeful. The hill still went on and finally at mile 11 I was still happy to see my split be 8:02. I didn't care. I had made it past the part that had darken my race last year and I still felt good. This really, really surprised me.

Okay, so I really don't like this section of the course. You'd think this wouldn't bother me having done a double loop course on an airforce base 2 months ago but it is kinda ugly. You just run along side the rail road track and they have all these "clever" signs cheering you on. But there aren't a lot people so it is just weird and desolate. The signs make you think there are going to be lots of people but there are not. And the signs? They don't make up for up it. In fact, they kinda annoy me. But whatever. Run faster! It is boring!
12 mile split: 7:43

I don't remember the 13th mile except that I was kind of surprised by the mat. I guess it was the 13.1 cause I had 8:27 for that split. The d-tag has my time wrong. I know it is wrong because I crossed the mat, hit the split and saw my watch flashing 1:40 and freaked out a little. I ran 1:41 at Museum of Aviation in January and that race is flat and I thought I had gone out too fast there. Story of my life I tell you (but hey, it works!)

I was feeling the start of side stitch and knew that meant my Gu wasn't going to digest and I needed to get my heart rate down and everything would probably be okay. I saw an empty porto potty and thought okay I'll have a pee break. I knew I risked losing any chance at 3:25ish but also knew that I would have an even worse race if that Gu continued to sit in my tummy. I definitely didn't need to slow down but sometimes a little break is all you need. So I stopped. I did have to pee so at least it wasn't wasted time spent in a porto potty.

As I exited I started running but I think I was too fast because I started feeling a little like hurling. So then I was at the water station and decided I would just sip my water and walk through it. And this what I did.

Even with all that stopping when I hit the split for 14 I had 7:32. Of course the mile was short because I had hit the 13 at 13.1 but obviously I was feeling yucky because I was running too fast to digest the Gu.

I started feeling better but it was not the greatness that I had been feeling. I really didn't care-- I just didn't want to be miserable during the race. I wanted to have great race--whatever that meant.

I've already had my miserable race on this course 2 years ago when I had to go to the medical tent. A pr, sub 3:30 all that would be nice but I really cared more about having a good race and feeling good. So I basically told myself that it was okay to walk the aid stations. And I did. With this strategy I knew that I would still easily run sub 3:37 for my 2nd fastest marathon. And I was happy about that. Really.

Around this time of apparent deep contemplation and walking aid stations I started missing mile markers. So miles 15 and 16 came in at 15:34. That's about a 7:45 pace right? So still on track for a PR even with my aid station walking.

I should also mention that I took sips of water at every aid station but refused the Gatorade. It was the lemon lime kind which I hate. It makes me think I am thirsty which makes me want to drink more. And with my tummy on edge I figured it would be better not to aggravate it. It was a cool day so I also figured I didn't need it so much. I had had 2 Gu's (one at mile 5 and over miles 12-13 I had another. Then later at 19 I had a half a Gu.).

Miles 16-20 you run through Druid Hills. Normally I like this section. Bit rollers. More up than down but you can get a rhythm going. And I still like it but Sunday it felt really hard and much hillier than I remembered from previous years. I was definitely having to work and my pace was definitely fading.
Mile 17 was 8:04
Mile 18: 8:03
Mile 19: 8:14
Mile 20: 8:49
Fading and fading fast. But honestly I didn't care. I was still very happy with my race. Even though I was slowing and it was getting hard I was not in the valley of darkness. I was still walking the aid stations and most of all I was still smiling. At least I think I was.

Mile 21 I guess I was doing better: 8:04 and at 2 hours and 45 minutes.

This made me really happy. The way I saw it I had 50 minutes to do 5 miles and nab a course PR. I was totally fine with that.

But I was also approaching the 3 hour mark and my mental acumen and patience starts waning big time at that point.

So my thinking was this: If I can get to 23 mile in around 3 hours I will let myself walk as much as I want.

This must have rallied me because mile 22 was 7:27.

And then I was running with the half marathoners and it gets a little dicey having to wind around the walkers. If I am at mile 22 of a marathon and they are at mile 9 of a half marathon and we started at the same time, well, we ain't doing the same pace.

I kept looking for the 23 mile marker and never saw it. So that was a little disheartening to be looking for something and not find it. Also the end of mile 23 or maybe the first part of mile 24 you run out of Piedmont Park and up--I guess that is 10th street. That hill totally sucks! And this was the first part of the race where I had a really negative moment. I was running up that hill and the wind was in my face and I was sad and confused because I never saw the 23 mile marker-- but was assuming and hoping I had missed it and wasn't running a 14 minute mile. Logically I knew I had missed the marker but since more than half the people around me were walking a 14-15 min pace I have to admit I was confused and doubting myself. So I stopped and did walk for a few seconds.

Then I told myself come on! Whenever it gets tough at the end of a run or race I always tell myself: The faster I run the sooner I will be done.

I know that sounds very simple and not like something you need to remind yourself of but I get really really dumb at the end of a marathon and it can be more comfortable to walk. So I have to remind myself that by walking I am actually prolonging my discomfort.

So I was running again. The splits for 23/24 were 17:37--3 hours and 10 minutes.

This is the point where math is hard and frustrating. I had 26 minutes to traverse 2.2 miles and nail a course PR and my second fastest marathon. And to run a PR I needed to run the 2.2 in under 18 minutes. Certainly I am capable of that. But it was just too close and I was tired and it was all. up. hill for the next 2 miles. And I just didn't have it in me. I didn't even want to try to fight for it. It would hurt too much and I wanted to be happy.

So I said I am just going to run and however and whenever I get to the finish I will get there. I quit looking at my watch, even pulled my arm warmer over it. And these hills in those last 2 miles? They are nothing. I had already run up all the hard and steep ones but these just wear on you physically and mentally. Not to mention there are all those people walking the half marathon going double the pace you are.

But I didn't care.
I was almost done!
My race had been great and I just had a little left and I knew I would be thrilled once it was said and done.

But then, my right calf rebelled. It was the absolute strangest sensation. It felt like there was snake in there trying to crawl out. It wasn't particularly painful but was just so disturbing and I thought, "well that can't be good."

So I slowed down to walk and waited it out and it didn't happen again. So I started running. And the snake in my calf stirred again. I decided maybe it was an electrolyte thing. I happened to be at an aid station so I grabbed some of that Gatorade and drank it down. I doubted it would work but I figured with how little I had left to go at least it wouldn't make me sick. So I ran on.

The snake in my calf would do its wiggling thing and freak me out and I would walk for a minute. And any marathoner that passed me would pat me on the back and encourage me. And feeling compelled by their encouragement I would start running again. And so on and so on.

This whole run, calf freak out and walk process was very frustrating. My pain was really no different than it ever is at the end of a marathon so I definitely could have done my hang on/get'er done pace but the snake in the calf thing had me very concerned since I had no idea what it was and what it meant.

I started imagining that it would reach a point of no return and completely freeze up on me and I would be one of those people that crawl down the final stretch to the finish. I found the thought somewhat entertaining since it seemed an ironic and humiliating ending to what had been such a great race. I pushed the negativity aside and went back to my zen thinking and told myself: I will take whatever this race gives me.

So I was fine with it. I had made my peace with whatever was to be and would run as much as could, walk if I had to and crawl if necessary but no matter what I would cross that finish line with a smile on my face because damn it! I was having a great race!

Around this time the 3:30 pacers came up on me. They are Floren and Jerry. I know them because I ran with them for 10 miles last year and have talked to Floren a few times since last year's race--whining about my inability to run sub 3:30.

I have to say I was a bit surprised to see them. I had assumed they had long passed me and I just hadn't seen them. I will admit though seeing them gave me a bit of that sad twinge you can get in a marathon when yet another one of your goals passes you by (even if you tried to not have goals because damn it your only goal was to have a great race!)--which actually often is literally the case. As they passed me Floren patted me on the back and encouraged me to "come on." I think I weakly told her that I was trying.

I let them go but then instantly was annoyed with myself and started running.

Floren said something of the effect of "you are awesome" when I caught up to them. And I had a little burst of energy and passed them. But then the calf wigged and I got scared about what it was and what it meant injury-wise and slowed again to walk. I tried not to look at the 3:30 group as they passed me again but I saw Floren kept looking over her shoulder at me.
Oh the guilt!
I was the Pokey puppy!
I looked up as the distance stretched between us and got mad about it and started running again. Floren turned back again and saw that I was running and waved me towards them.

They were probably 100 feet in front of me and I just kept my eyes on Floren and Jerry and the 3:30 sign. I didn't notice anything else but started to hear the crowd cheering and I knewmeant the finish had to be close. And She Was started playing by Talking Heads on my ipod which I had been about to turn off but instead let it play:
And she was lying in the grass
And she could hear the highway breathing
And she could see a nearby factory. . .

The crowd of spectators began to thicken and the 3:30 pace group disappeared from my sight around a curve as I entered the finish area. I knew I was almost there. So I kept running, ignoring the crazy thing my calf was doing and figured it just didn't matter anymore. I was almost done! I started smiling again. A big smile. At least it felt huge.

She's making sure she is not dreaming
See the lights of a neighbors house
Now she's starting to rise
Take a minute to concentrate
And she opens up her eyes. . .

And as I round the curve I see the 3:30 pacers fly under the finish line and I see the finish line clock flip to 3:30. I have less than 100 feet to go, maybe even only 50 feet. It is so close. So close that it dawns on me that Holy Crap! I just ran my 3:30 GA marathon!

The world was moving and she was right there with it (and she was)

I throw my arms up and cheer for myself, smiling huger and see that I made it in the 3:30 window as I cross the mat and under the finish arch.

The world was moving she was floating above it (and she was) and she was

The 3:30 pacers rush over to hug me as I hit the stop on my watch and see 3:29:58. I almost start crying.

She was glad about it... no doubt about it
She isn't sure where she's gone
No time to think about what to tell them
No time to think about what she's done
And she was

And maybe if I hadn't been so dehydrated I might have managed actual tears but seeing how I am not one who cries in joy anyway it is doubtful.

But my emotion?
HUGE.
My happiness at that second?
GIGANTIC!

And she was looking at herself
And things were looking like a movie
She had a pleasant elevation
Shes moving out in all directions


I keep replaying it in my head over and over again it was that great for me. Hard to believe there could be so much joy and magic in just a few seconds but there was, is. Whichever. It was an amazing moment for me. Best finish of any race ever!

I had such a fantastic race. And I am so, so very grateful for the experience.

So what is next???

The Twisted Ankle Trail Marathon on May 16th.

My goal?


To not die.

I hope everyone else had as fantastic of day as I did. And if not, all I can say is that eventually they happen: there are good races, bad races, horrible races and then really awesome races that just make it all worth it.

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!