Royal Victoria was my last race in a 3 marathons in 6 week push. Skagit was my goal race, Bellingham my back-up and Victoria was supposed to be for fun. Things didn’t unfold the way they were planned: Skagit was a disaster, Bellingham became my goal race, but I wasn’t expecting the long, steep hills and miles of dirt trail. I missed my Boston Qualification by 11 minutes. Now Victoria was the goal race. My summer of focused training had one last chance to pay off and Victoria was it.
The intensity of the summer left me feeling a little achy in the hips and I was tired. I knew the course, though , and thought it suited my strengths. The weather was forecast to be ideal: sunny and mid 40’s. Slight wind (I like a little wind). I planned to hold myself to a 9:00 mpm pace through mile 20, then increase the speed and take it home. To help with my effort, I decided to run with the 4 hour pacer. Only one problem… I couldn’t find him at the start line. I also couldn’t find my usual Maniac friends, so I was on my own. I’m actually quite chatty at races so I made a few instant friends before the gun went off to start the race.
I started slow, then picked it up a bit by mile 4. After that, I had a hard time keeping to my 9:00 goal pace. Every time I took a split, I was hovering around 8:45. I knew I needed to bring it down a notch, and struggled to make that happen. I hit the turn-around well ahead of goal pace, and on my way back towards town caught a glimpse of the 4 hour pacer. He was 2 minutes or so behind me. I slowed down even more so the pace group could catch up, figuring it would be easier to hold myself back if I were in a pack. They caught me at mile 16. I latched on and settled into their stride. I just got comfortable and Mr. Pace Bunny yelled out “walk!” What? We just finished a significant climb, we should reward ourselves by gliding down the backside! Ignoring my intuition, I walked with the group. One minute later the pacer started running again. It took me a moment to get the legs moving again and almost as soon as I was motoring along smoothly, we walked again. He was on the 10 minute run, 1 minute walk routine. No matter where it fell on the course we were walking on the 10 minute mark. I managed to keep with the group until mile 20, though the constant change of rhythm was taking it's toll.
I hit that split perfectly with 3:02 showing on my watch. Now, according to plan, I could turn it on. Right now. Yep, this is it. Legs? Did you hear me? RIGHT NOW….. Nothing….. Again I summoned my inner strength and willed my legs to move faster. 2 seconds per mile faster…. 5 seconds a mile fast….. 10 seconds per mile faster. Perfect. I would hold this pace until mile 24, then increase the speed again. This is what I trained for. This was going to be my fast finish. Then it happened. Mile 22.5 and my quad seized up so bad I couldn’t move. I was dizzy with pain as I inched toward the curb. I stood there, slumped over like an old lady, trying to catch a breath and ease the pain. The EMT’s came by: making sure I was okay and offered a ride. I knew I couldn’t stop or the cramps would get worse. I had to find a way to start walking and move that lactic acid through my muscles. It seemed like minutes passed before I started to hobble towards the finish line. Half a mile later I picked up a slow jog, then when I felt a twinge in my quad, brought it back down to a walk. Once again I picked up a jog. I was too close to deny myself a finish, but time goals had completely disappeared. Somehow I managed a 9-something mile during that final push over the timing mat. To my surprise, I still managed a 4:12 and I completed my 49th marathon just 3½ years after my first.
We finished off the weekend with a lovely Canadian Thanksgiving dinner hosted by one of my friends. I wanted to feel sorry for myself, to make excuses or trivialize the importance of this race for me. None of it would do though. I have to own up to what happened and find a way to prevent it in the future. I can run an easy marathon every other week without problems, but to run with intensity that frequently left me drained. My muscles were fatigued. My system over taxed. Now all I can do is recover, rebuild and refocus.
My journey into the world of marathons and ultra marathons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Post a Comment