Nabbing a BQ, foray into marathon racing

Nabbing a BQ, foray into marathon racing

A1A Fort Lauderdale Marathon 2020 Race Report

I was almost sure that I wouldn’t get it. In fact, I had already laid in my mind excuses to myself for why it wouldn’t happen- work had been stressful, the weather was going to be hot, my taper runs had felt terrible- and so on. Not to mention this goal I was chasing seemed to be a reach at best- likely almost an impossibility. I had never truly raced a marathon for one. I had completed the distance twice- once within a full Ironman and once about a year prior in a crazy trail event that featured 7k ft of elevation change and was essentially a run/walk event (oh and did I mention this was two weeks after that Ironman). Both of those events were >5h finish times. What I was attempting to do was shaving over an hour and a half off that time…

But despite all the negativity in my brain, I tried to focus on the positives. I had smoothly navigated through a pretty grueling and high mileage training block, topping my mileage at close to 60 miles per week for a few peak weeks. A few aches and pains here and there, but thanks to a lot of strength and cross training (swimming and biking still got some love this block) made it through feeling healthy and without injury. I had also recently raced and PR’ed a half marathon essentially untapered within a full Ironman build and surprised even myself with a 1:40- putting me in a ballpark that I could MAYBE hit 3:30 and nab the BQ...

Race day

A super early and dark morning in South Florida, however we were lucky to have temperatures still hanging in the 50s for our race start. (caveat in that while this while this was lucky for racing it is not so lucky when you are waiting at the race start for an hour with minimal clothes). I felt cautiously good through the warmup and all the pre race rituals of gear check, multiple porta-potty stops and last minute honey stinger chew bites. My plan was to go out with the 330 pacer like my coach had instructed, however with the packed crowds in the corrals, the best I could do was find the 1:45 half marathon pacer and thought it was best to start with this pack. 

The gun went off at 6am sharp and we were flying down the still dark Florida pavement. I tried to tell myself to stay comfortable and not start too fast as tends to be a persistent issue for me in races. Before I knew it I had lost sight of the pacer I set off with in the first mile crowds. I ended up fairly quickly finding the 1:40 half marathon pacer and also found a good rhythm. Even though the first few miles were clicking off quickly at a sub- 7:30 pace- significantly faster than goal- they felt so comfortable and easy I decided to keep it there, and to try to stay with this group as long as I could. The first 10k was completely in the dark, through a dark beachside highway and then winding through a disorientingly dark state park where I struggled to see my own feet in the pack through the pitch black. As we exited the park, mile 7 was greeted by the sunrise making its way through the clouds over the ocean. A spectacular distraction, though I was still feeling shockingly good and clicking off even 7:30 miles. 

It was close to mile 9 when our half marathon pacer left us at the turn for the full marathon, though we still had a solid pack of about 5 runners who stayed together for a while with that same solid pace. I remained cautiously optimistic. I felt good, hitting my hydration goals of a little water at most aid stations, hitting my nutrition goals of GU gels that were only causing mild GI discomfort that I considered par for the course. The miles continued, evenly- I even hit a new half marathon PR of 1:38, and it felt almost too easy. To say things were going well is an understatement... I was already mentally calculating how quickly I could actually do this if I held this pace, although knew a fade was likely inevitable. 

And so things continued- until drama ensued around mile 14. Our tight pack of about 5 runners got just a little too tight when one runner tripped another and landed him hard onto the pavement. Unfortunately after a few heated exchanges- mostly German cursing/yelling (the guy that was tripped was German)- this incident caused our little pack to dissolve for the most part. So I continued now a lonely journey, but still felt pretty ok. Miles 15-18 clicked by still on pace and down went another gel- more nausea this time slightly worse than the first, but I would quickly find this was the least of my worries for the rest of the race. 

Mile 18 is where we enter the pain cave part of this marathon story. I have had my fair share of issues with cramping in races- especially in hot ones and especially in long events (Ironman/half ironman). I had tried my best to stay on top of hydration and electrolytes to heed this issue off. Despite my efforts, what initially started as calf cramps did decide to rear their ugly head around this point in the race. It was initially tolerable, albeit painful, but the frequency and duration picked up enough that it led to me changing my gait slightly to try to prevent further muscles from cramping. It was a mental war to just make it to the next aid station running, and luckily I kept a pretty solid clip with only a slight slowdown through mile 23. I’d like to say the cramps got better and I flew through the last 3 miles as smooth as the beginning of the race had gone— I mean I had just run 23 miles, how hard could the last 3 be?? Well let me tell you, when they say the race starts at mile 20, they are not kidding around. The desire to walk, stop or do anything but run was so strong from this point on. Not only were the cramps getting pretty debilitating, but the quads/hamstrings/glutes were so fatigued that each step on the pavement was an exercise in pain. I again played mental games to try to get myself through the next aid station running, but allowed myself to slow down and allowed myself to walk for about 30 seconds at each of these last few aid stations. I knew it my head the BQ was so close based on my watch and timing mats out on the course. The last mile was definitely one of the more painful running miles I’ve done in a while, but when there’s a goal in sight and you can taste it, pain is temporary and glory is forever. With the finish line in sight I knew I was going to get it. I heard my Rocksport cheering squad in some distant corner of the finish line yelling at me as I glanced at my watch and then the time clock- 3:29:35— BQ accomplished.

Post-Race Thoughts

As I sit here writing this, I still feel like some sort of imposter or dream that I achieved this goal. I’ve never considered myself a runner. Running for me initially was something I did just to stay in shape after college tennis, which turned into a few social half marathons with friends here and there, and up until the last few months, was something I had to do in order to finish a triathlon. I decided on a whim to put A1A and even the Monumental Half on my calendar for a little variety and good excuse to hit Florida in January with friends. Thank god for my coach, Erin, who not only puts up with my spontaneity and ridiculous ideas, but also usually joins in and became likely the biggest secret to my success. With the same race schedule, we became training partners and held each other very accountable for a pretty ambitious marathon training block, even on cold, rainy 5AM days when I’m sure neither of us wanted to get out of bed. The funny thing I found out about run friends is they’re not just friends or training partners, they become like family after so much suffering and sweating together. There were workouts that still stuck out in my mind during the painful parts of the race— the ones where I was cursing Erin for picking the hilly route on our tempo runs, or the ones where I so desperately wanted to pull back the pace or do 2 less 800s— it’s easier to suffer in company, and we certainly had some sufferfests within our training. I know I wouldn’t have had the same race without her or without my Saturday morning run group that consistently pushed the pace and my limits. 

There’s a saying that rang through my head a lot in the days leading up to the race “shoot for the moon, because even if you fall, you’ll land amongst the stars.” When I had looked at that goal on paper I had thoughts along the line of- there’s no way, or that time is so fast even for a half marathon let alone a full. When I found Erin afterward, she told me she felt there was probably a 25% chance in her mind that I could achieve this on race day, a fact I’m very glad she didn’t tell me until I finished. To wrap this up, I’m glad I dreamed big, and I’m glad I set my goals high, because if it was easy to achieve, is it really worth doing at all?? 

—onto the next adventure of ultra racing in less than 2 weeks… who’s ready??