The title of this race report should be: “Just Run” she says. Or, why a 30 year old woman should still listen to her mother.
Marathon number six is in the books. It will be known as the race of constant calculations. Also, it felt like my strongest, and most smartly run, race.
Going in the Saturday’s race I had plenty of self-doubt and I was just too much in my head about it. Attempt a sub-four or not? Am I ready? Did I train enough? Blah blah blah. What good was all that second guessing going to do for me?
On the drive to Charleston I spoke to my mom on the phone, who tells me, “I was yelling at you. Well, not at you. I was yelling at your blog.” “Just run the race,” she went on to say, “who cares about all that other stuff. I mean, just run.”
To be honest, I was a little taken aback. Those were my real feelings. My real doubts. My real fears. And, here was someone telling me that they don’t matter. But, of course, she was right. You should always listen to your mother, why fight it? All I needed to do was show up on race day and run. And then, I started feeling a little silly about it all.
“…you just have to start running and take it from there” I decided to quit worrying about it and just show up on race day and run the race that was in me on that day. Just run.
I slept OK the night before the race. I was getting up every 2 or 3 hours to use the bathroom because I was determined to be as hydrated as possible. Also, I woke up at 5 and couldn’t get back to sleep even though I still had another 1.5 hours before I had to get ready. I did manage to doze on and off and finally got up at 6:30.
I made the decision to wear my running skirt instead of capri tights. It was in the mid-30s that morning but it would be up in to the 50s about 2 hours after the race started. I decided to sacrifice a little warmth at the beginning to ensure I didn’t overheat. This was definitely the right decision. I ate an orange and sipped a little more water before leaving the hotel for the starting line. I had a few bites of a bagel and a banana on the car ride over, trying to strike that delicate balance between fueling and actually eating.
Parking was easy and before too long, I was waiting at the start line with my fellow marathoners, both half and full. The pacers for this race had balloons tied to them so they could easily be spotted and I planted myself a few yards behind the yellow 4:00 marathon pacer and in line with the two blue 2:00 half marathon pacers. Well, this should be easy, just follow the balloons.
I ate a gel just before the race started and then suddenly I was running marathon #6. As I learned from my last marathon, I needed to let everyone pass me for the first few miles so I settled in a comfortable pace and just let the rest of the runners sprint off. I planned to let the first mile set the tone. I ran comfortably and didn’t push the pace and hit the first mile marker 9:253. Well, that didn’t feel too hard, I thought, what happens if I push just a little. Without much more effort I ran mile 3 in 9:02. That felt about right!
The beginning of the race
The first few miles of the race were in downtown Charleston, which was very neat to run through. There were plenty of spectators out braving the cold temps and it felt good to be cheered along as I found my rhythm. However, by mile 4 we were heading out of downtown and I focused on my next milestone – gel #2 at mile 6. I hit that water stop, sucked down the gel, gulped the water and was quickly on my way and on the look out for milestone #2 – my personal cheering squad at mile 9.5. Each of these miles ticked by quickly with a short hill around mile 8, really the only notable incline of the race. I was encouraged by the splits I was running: all of them in the vicinity of 9:00 to 9:10 a mile. Just where I wanted to be.
I spotted my husband and friends at 9.5 and got some great energy from the as I ran by. Wow, I’m 10 miles in to this race and feeling great. Next up, I set my sights on gel #3 at mile 12.
This would be the “longest” section of the race mentally as I wasn’t going to have my next milestone until I saw my cheering section again at Mile 21. The course at this point twists and turns through North Charleston, which many runners don’t like but I found the route easy to follow and encouraging. I was able to see parts of the course ahead of time and it was rewarding when I would reach them a short time later.
The volunteers throughout this race were great but I think they were particularly so during these middle miles. One of the things I loved about the race organization is that they printed our names on our bibs so it was cool to run up to a water stop and have the volunteer shout, “Way to Becki. Looking strong.” It seems like such a small thing to have the added bonus of your name thrown in to a shout of encouragement but it helps – big time.
I was cruising along, hitting approximate 9:00 miles through about mile 15 and then I hit a very slight fade and slipped to 9:10 to 9:15 pace. Absolutely no big deal but I had already begun the calculations.
This whole time I had kept the blue 2:00 half marathon balloons within sight and only occasionally saw the yellow 4:00 marathon balloon. I didn’t worry too much about that yellow balloon because the blues told me I was maintaining the right pace and I convinced myself that the yellow balloon had just gone out at too fast a pace. The blue balloons peeled off at Mile 11 to finish their race and I ran for quite some time without seeming the yellow balloon. I hit Mile 13 in 1:58 or so, which put me right at a 4 hour marathon without factoring in a fade and each mile after that I added up the time in my head, calculated the time left, just to reassure myself that my math was still right and 4 hours was still a possibility – yellow balloon or no yellow balloon.
Although I had slowed just a hair, by Mile 17 I caught sight of that yellow balloon again. It was getting closer. Slowly and ever so slightly but it was definitely getting closer. (You can see in my mile splits I actually picked up the pace back to sub 9:10 pace – wanting to catch that little yellow balloon put a fire in me early). Just stay on it and slowly reel it in, I told myself, just be patient.
With my eyes on that balloon, I ran toward my cheering section at mile 21. This was my last milestone before the finish line. My legs were starting to feel the miles but I was still feeling comfortable in my pace. As I saw my cheering squad, I shouting, “I NEED to catch that STUPID yellow balloon!” I didn’t realize how much that little balloon was impacting me until that shout came spitting out of my mouth. A fellow runner laughed and shouted, “that’s right, go get ‘im!” That was all I needed. I grabbed the banana that my crew was holding out for me (per instructions – late race banana hand offs are essential) and took off.
"I NEED to catch that STUPID yellow balloon"
The banana hand off just before I began to chase the balloon
I pushed. The remaining 5 miles of the course was an out and back. I just had to catch that balloon, make it to the turn around and hold on until the finish. I pushed and pushed. The yellow balloon got closer and closer. And yet, the out portion of the course seemed to go on forever. Also, I started noticing how many people were dressed in tights, long sleeve shirts, winter hats, etc. It seemed that everyone had a shirt or jacket tied around their waist. The temperature had gone from mid-30s in the morning to the 50s. An overheated, death march on a lonely strip of road with little crowd support was not the ideal way to run the final miles of the race but I had dressed for this last section and didn’t feel the heat as much as some. Just “follow the yellow balloon” I reminded myself.
(However, my favorite part of the race happened on the way out: there were several bands along the course and just before mile 22 there were two guys, one on a keyboard and the other with a mike. As I ran by, I hear the guy sing, “hey there, runner girl in the purple shirt, I love you in your running skirt.” I blew him a kiss. He deserved it.)
Singing distractions aside, I was totally focused on catching the yellow balloon but I also had my eye out for the turn around. Where was it? Finally, I caught and passed the yellow balloon just as we made the turn around. I just needed to hang on, not let that balloon pass me and finish this race.
Oh, but my strength was very quickly draining away. I was no longer focused on something tangible and the finish line seemed to never come. I ran and ran and ran but it didn’t seem to do any good. Just before mile 24 I heard two sets of feet coming up fast behind me and I prepared for the worst – seeing that little yellow balloon pass me and not being able to do a thing about it. Luckily, it wasn’t the balloon so I let the two runners go. Just hold steady, I told myself but I couldn’t help worrying that I had made my surge too early, that I wasn’t patient enough and I should have just stayed with the balloon until I got closer to the end rather than try to be a hero and bury it on the course behind me.
Just run, I repeated over and over. It is almost over. You’ve got it. Do the math. I did the math. I was cutting it close but under 4 hours was still possible. Mile 25 – done. One more mile marker to go.
(To anyone else this race was not nearly as dramatic as it was in my head).
I saw my crew again before making the final turn and they were so excited. “You did it. You caught the balloon. Yayayayay!” But I didn’t feel excited. I just wanted to be done. Where’s the turn for the finish, I asked. “Its just up there. You’re so close. You’ve got it.” I didn’t feel like I had anything but I kept running. Just run, I repeated, just finish this thing.
I did not feel as happy I look in this picture taken just before Mile 26 (Note the tiny yellow balloon in the background)
Mile marker 26 finally came and my watch read 3:58. I had 2 minutes to run .2 miles and finish under 4 hours. More math. It’s possible. I can do it. Just keeping running. I made the last turn and finally saw the finish line. As I got closer, I saw the clock and it read 3:59:something so I started sprinting. I didn’t want to just run a 4 hour marathon according to my chip time, dammit if I was going to do it, I wanted that clock to read 3-something. I surprised myself with an awesome finishing kick.
I sprinted past the spectators lining the last few yards and they erupted in shouts and cheers. I was the only runner crossing the finish line and the announcer started shouting, “And she’s going to make it under four hours. She’s sprinting it in under four hours. Becki has finished the Charleston Marathon in under four hours. Way to go Becki!”
The triumphant finish
Best. Finish. Ever. I felt like I had won the race. I can’t imagine that the actual winners got any better a reception as they crossed the line.
I crossed the finish line at 3:59:33 with a chip time of 3:59:06.
Tired. A little nauseous from sprinting. Satisfied. That is how I felt as I accepted my race medal and met up with my cheering squad.
Me and the best support crew ever (minus my favorite supporter who is taking this picture)
The smell of the free shrimp and grits was very unappealing but I happily accepted the free Fat Tire beer at the finish festival. I also bought a hot dog and some cookies from the food truck and gobbled them down. Great, unhealthy but totally yummy, way to celebrate a great race and my first “3:something” marathon finish.
Pros:
- Charleston is a great place to visit and the city came out to support the race festival
- The marathon was part of a whole race festival so there were distances for everyone to run – youth marathon, 5K, 10K, Half Marathon, Full Marathon and even a Bike Ride the following day.
- Even though this was the first year for the marathon, the organization was excellent
- Volunteers and water stops were run well
- Chip was attached to the back of the race bib so no need to untie shoes or return chips at the end of the race.
- Free beer is always a good thing
Cons:
- The course was supposed to have water stops with GU during the last miles – either it was gone by the time I came through or I missed it (or it was never there)
- The final 5 miles out-and-back was confusing since we were never sure which side to run on
- I hate when races take you right by the finish line in the late miles of a race – it is a special kind of torture to tempt us with stopping when we have another 5 miles to go (and many people are hitting the wall)
- The only free food at the end of the race was shrimp and grits. Other runners seemed to be enjoying it. I wanted something else.
Miles Splits:
Miles 1 and 2 – 18:50 (I remember my watch read 9:23 at the first mile marker but I forgot to hit the lap button)
Mile 3 – 9:02
Mile 4 – 9:23
Mile 5 – 8:53
Mile 6 – 9:10
Mile 7 – 8:58
Mile 8 – 9:00
Mile 9 – 8:59
Mile 10 – 9:04
Mile 11 – 9:00
Mile 12 – 9:08
Mile 13 – 9:04
Mile 14 – 9:00
Mile 15 – 9:13 (started to fade a bit)
Mile 16 – 9:12
Mile 17 – 9:13
Mile 18 – 9:09
Mile 19 – 9:12
Mile 20 – 9:08
Mile 21 and 22 – 17:54 (average 8:57, the great yellow balloon chase began)
Mile 23 – 8:58
Mile 24 – 8:55
Mile 25 – 9:22 (balloon motivation starting to fade)
Mile 26 – 9:17
Last .2 – 1:48
Finish Time: 3:59:06
