Going Crazy and Having Fun

Today was laundry day and to be honest, it's kind of throwing me for a loop. Except for the part about the sweet smells of laundry:

Laundry smells soothe me. Correction; MY laundry smells soothe me. (The clean ones, not the dirty's)

Anyway, there's a story in here somewhere. Saturday is not usually laundry day; that's Monday's job and to be honest, I don't really like messing with the schedule. But after a week of vacation and a husband who was "living out of the dryer" (and yes, that's a direct quote) I had to shake up the schedule a bit.

In case you are wondering; living out of the dryer is what happens when a full grown male is left behind for the week on Friday by his wife and four kids. Then when Monday-laundry day-rolls around, he's down to his last pair of underwear, and he doesn't even know it. On Tuesday when he wakes he's in for a surprise and is forced to do the laundry. And in case you're still wondering, Craig doing laundry consists of washing and drying only the essentials and then leaving them in the dryer for the week. Which means every morning when he's done in the shower, he's in for a trip to the laundry room.

And in case you were wondering, he doesn't know the secret to the smells. He totally missed out on that one and he's really glad I'm back!

OK-here it is. The Marathon report. I kind of dreaded putting it up here, but here goes nothing.

Saturday I ran the St. George Marathon. The good news; I am now walking forwards and full speed down the stairs. The bad news; the race was awful. (OK maybe not the whole race, but definitely the last 6 or better yet 16, which kind of makes the rest seem like it was too.)

The story.

Last year, I missed qualifying for the Boston Marathon by a measly 70 seconds--70 seconds! I was so mad at myself because there were a lot of stupid things I did that cost me that qualifying time. It was my own stupidity that was my downfall that day and I was not happy. There was anger. There were tears and there was a whole new drive and focus pushing me from that point on. I spent a whole year focusing on it. Every single run I went on it was in the back of my brain. I pushed myself more. I focused harder and I tried to figure out some of the mental kinks that always seem to pull me down in a race. After a lot of work and time and effort, I thought I had banished some of my demons and I felt ready for the race. Physically it was totally within my reach. Mentally it was too. I left for St. George feeling strong and ready. I wasn't cocky, but I was definitely confident. I knew I could do it and I was letting myself believe it. No self doubt. No negative thoughts. No what ifs?

I. Was. Ready.

Fast forward to the starting line. I was there with Lisa and Laurie and one of us commented on the eerie calm that we felt. And the weird thing is that we all felt it. No butterflies. No stressing. No worries. Just calm. I figured it was a good sign.

Too bad I was wrong.

The race started fine. We ran on pace and everyone felt good. But that eerie calm turned into an eerie silence. Silence. For five whole miles. Usually in our running group if you've got me or Laurie there, you've got stories and gripes and plenty words to last at least 20 miles. But both of us were totally silent. It was weird and it made me wonder what was going on. It wasn't normal; but it was only mile five, so I wasn't sweating it. But that silence stayed. By mile seven we started to spread out on the course. Lisa took off looking as strong as I've seen her all year. (She ended up with a PR and plenty of time to spare on that BQ-YAY LISA!!!) Laurie and I hung back. We kept jockeying back and forth on the course. But still, there was...silence. It was weird and by mile 10 it started to worry me. I realized at that point that something was off. I wasn't myself and I started to worry. BUT... I kept pace, that qualifying time was still within my reach. For the next 10 Laurie and I kept trading spots--in silence--it was weird and that eerie calm was starting to be replaced with a sense of foreboding. Somewhere around mile 16 I finally pulled out my music hoping it would get me focused only on running. It didn't. That sense of foreboding stayed. It was weird and I just felt so uneasy. BUT...I kept pace; that is, until mile 20. Laurie had caught up with me for what would be the last time. She uttered some words of encouragement and I felt good and matched her stride and was determined to stay with her. BUT...I blacked out. My legs went shaky and my vision was black and I had to walk. Laurie was calling for me to keep up. But I couldn't. My body just wouldn't. And it went on a lot like that for the next six miles. I wanted so badly to pick up the pace. I tried so hard. I gave it everything I had. BUT...I just couldn't. In that last six miles I blacked out a couple more times and kept having to walk for just a minute to get my focus back. At mile 22 when the poop out bus passed me it was everything I could do to not tap on their window and just quit. My body wanted me to so bad, but I wouldn't let myself. But I will say I have never been more tempted to do anything in my entire life. When I saw my family cheering for me at mile 24, again, I just wanted to quit. I have never had to push through feeling like that before and I wanted to be done. But those smiling faces and those cute signs saying "run Mommy run" kept me going. That and Craig telling me not to stop but just to keep running. So I went off, slowly but surely to finish the race. As I turned on to diagonal street, there was Andrew, ready to pace me for the last mile and a half or so. Craig was so sweet. He checked to make sure I was OK with it before letting him come out on the course. And Andrew was so great. He made sure to stay a couple of steps in front of me and when I wanted to walk so bad, he kept me running. He also took my i-pod that was driving me nuts. It was so great to see his strong little legs up there and have him pull me along for the end. I felt like crap, but it reminded me that I have so much support behind me and in front of me--even if I don't live up to what I'm capable of.

That last mile seemed to stretch on forever and when I hit the 26 mile mark I tried my hardest to sprint. My legs just wouldn't cooperate. I ended up finishing that .2 with a 9:47 pace--that was everything I had. Thankfully there were national guardsmen at the finish line, because as I crossed, I blacked out again and I had to hang on to one for a minute or so just to make sure I could stand on my own. (I was so out of it I don't even know if he was cute or not-grrrr.) After I was sure I could stand on my own with out going wobbly legged or weak in the knees, I let go of him and used Andrew for my support. Then, I made the slow walk of shame to find my friends.

My final time was supposed to be anywhere under 3 hours and 40 minutes. It ended up being 3 hours 47 minutes and 35 seconds. I was deflated, defeated, and since we're going with a de theme, I was dehydrated. But strangely, I was OK. Last year when I crossed that line and got my official time, I instantly picked out the places that I knew had cost me the race. I knew what stupid mistakes I made and was instantly upset with myself. Last year it was my fault--my mind, not my body.

This year was different. Even though I still feel the pain of disappointment. Even as tears sting at my eyes as I type this, I know that I did EVERYTHING I possibly could in that race. I pushed myself mentally harder than I ever have. There really is only one point in the whole race that I regret taking a walking break-and it was only 100 yards or so. I know that I did my best. Now I only have to deal with my best not being good enough; and that's the hard part.

So as an end to this story-or at least this chapter, I am planning on running St. George again next year. (Yeah, I know I'm crazy) I will set the same goals and I will work just as hard. BUT...I have a new motto. Third time's a charm or three strikes you're out--take your pick! I will do it again, I will try my hardest and give it everything I've got, BUT...if I can't qualify next year, something is going to change. Maybe it will be my distance, maybe it will be my goals, I don't know yet, but I'm ready and willing to give it one more try.

Wish me luck!