*This is a loooong report, and I haven't even included all the fun of this weekend. The race was story enough, so thanks in advance for reading if you get through the whole thing!*
The backstory here is that I wavered on jumping up to the full 26.2 for the race in OBX up until the day I arrived there. I really wasn’t sure what I wanted to do since my running had been going so well recently, but I finally went with what I knew to be smarter – when I got to the expo Friday afternoon, I picked up my HM bib and that was that.
My Voodoo shirt and cheetah print arm sleeves (in tribute to my friend, Joe, who passed away this summer) got some cheers and comments from both spectators and other runners throughout the day. Without anyone I knew along the sidelines throughout most of the race, this was a big boost.
Pre-race: Saturday night, Shawn offered for me to ride to the start with him and Brandy, and I accepted. And then mercilessly bugged him about our super-early departure time. We arrived at the start in the darkness, and before race officials even had the start line set up. It was actually perfect: The 3 of us went for a relaxing warm-up jog and stopped at the beach entrance to watch the most beautiful sunrise over the ocean. Soon enough we were heading to the starting line where I said a quick hello to some of our other 30’s HM runners and lined up with Maria’s sister. We decided to start right near the front of the 8-10 minute corral.
The race: After deciding to stick with the HM, I thought I would plan on trying to run something close to my new (from Sept) PR of 1:47:38. I planned on running the 1st few miles at about an 8:20ish pace and seeing how I felt. When the gun went off, I crossed the line and started my watch. I went out a bit faster than planned, but I was comfortable and kept track of how I felt through these first few miles. Since I was feeling good, I kept the pace anywhere from 8:03-8:20 per mile and kept moving forward.
The course was a mix of highway miles and winding back streets along the water. I enjoyed the first 6 miles – the views along the water were beautiful, the houses were somoething to see, and there were pockets of cheering people scattered throughout. As we approached mile 7, we were now on the highway again and I knew we were heading to the big bridge around mile 10.
At this point I knew I was running something close to my PR, but wasn’t super-focused on my time. We also now had a decent head wind that would last almost to the very end of the race. I did a few checks of my legs and actually slowed the pace a bit in miles 7-8ish to make sure the legs were going to feel strong enough to run me up and over the bridge. So far, so good. I made sure to take a gel somewhere between m 6-7, drink some water at most of the water stops, and just try to enjoy the day.
Just before the bridge, I saw Shawn ahead on my right. I knew he was going to try to run back out and pick up some of us after he’d finished, but with a quick look at the time, I knew he must’ve pulled up early. He curled around to my side, told me he hadn’t been feeling it, and he’d run me to m12-12.5. Cool!
We began our way up the bridge and I kept my pace. Shawn said, trying to keep my mind off the bridge, “I keep looking for dolphins!”
I replied, “I keep looking for the top of the bridge.”
When we passed the 10 mile marker, we were almost at the top. Pace was good, I was feeling good, and we headed down the back side. I was still feeling good as we approached mile marker 11, but this was a long, straight, wind-in-our-face road, and my legs started to feel it. I wanted to turn. Where do we get to turn?! I was beginning to question if I could hold this pace.
Sometime between miles 11 and 12, I started to feel my throat closing up. Uhoh. A tell-tale sign for me that my body’s shutting down. I didn’t tell Shawn. I started to slow. Shawn kept me running, though, and after passing mile 12, told me I wasn’t allowed to look at my watch anymore. I told him I wasn’t.
Truth is, I needed to be done.
Reality was, I wasn’t.
Shawn said, “At that next red flag, I want you to surge for 20 seconds.”
Yeah, right.
I don’t think I did, but I must have. Mile 13 was my fastest pace yet. And that’s probably the reason I didn’t even turn to wave at Lori and Amy as I headed to the finish. Throat closing up, feeling like I’m about to puke, I hear Shawn telling me to get angry about past races gone bad. “Go get that PR,” he said, and reached back to extend his hand and tell me “good run.”
Less than a tenth of a mile later, I crossed the line, stopped my watch, saw a 1:47:26, and promptly assumed the runner’s death stance – bent over, hands on knees, gasping for breath. A race volunteer asked if I was ok. I would be, but I couldn’t speak. I was dry-heaving and trying to get my throat opened again. I walked a few steps, collected my medal, and squatted down by the table. The volunteer never left my side, though I was waving her on, and asked again and again, “Are you ok? Need medical? Need a wheelchair?” This last one made me laugh, though I barely could. I looked up at her and squeaked out, “I just PR’d. I’ll be fine.”
Shawn gave me the thumbs up and headed back out on the course. Finally feeling better, I got my finisher pic, got a few bits of apple and peanut butter sandwich bites, and wound my way back out to where my group of friends was. The sun was shining (HOT, btw!), the sky was blue, and although it was a tough finish, I felt great about the race. With my fall goal race 3 weeks behind me, I really wasn’t sure what my legs would do. To PR, by about 15 seconds (I would see later when the official results were posted), was good.
Post race: This was fun. Getting to watch all my other friends come through the finish was great. We watched every last one of our group come through. Despite getting yelled at by a volunteer because my feet were in front of the curb, and having her threaten to call the cops on me, I thought the race volunteers were great, the race was a pretty nice course overall, and the whole experience was positive. Wearing our Voodoo shirts and cheetah print pulled us together and made me smile. I did break down a little, and my eyes filled with tears, at about the 3:40 mark in the marathon time. It was then that it hit me. I wouldn’t get to see Joe come around the bend, loosen his dreads, and fly by to the finish. His spirit was there, though. He was with us. It was a great day.
*************************************************************************************
Here are my splits, listed by paces rather than actual splits because the mile markers seemed to be off in several places along the course. The first mile, for example, only registered .98, and that sort of messed up the even splits along the way.
Final time, as listed on the official results: 1:47:24 (it was originally listed as :23???)
7/386 AG division
76/2205 females
277/3381+ OA
8:14, 8:08, 8:04, 8:10, 8:07, 8:10, 8:13, 8:13, 8:158:13 (this was mile 10, climbing the bridge)8:05 (cresting and then heading down the bridge)
8:15 (uhoh, legs are dying, throat's closing up)
7:47 (um, what?! mile 13!)
last .1 was 6:50 pace. whoa.
2 comments:
I love reading your race reports. Totally makes me feel like I was there. Congratulations on another great race!!
Congrats Lora! You worked hard. That extra sprint near the end of the race paid off and got your a PR!
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