Tobacco Road Race Report and First 1/4 Year Review

There are lots of cliches I've been going over in my head when I think about my race experience yesterday at the Tobacco Road Marathon in Cary, NC. "You win some, you lose some." "It doesn't matter if you fall down, its whether you get back up." "When the going gets tough... " We all know them all. And yes, they all apply here.

This race was my 6th marathon this year. To be exact, it was my 6th full in 11 weekends. I have this terrible habit of pushing my threshold until I find my absolute limit. This usually results in an injury - stress fractures, overtraining, tendonitis, etc. Thankfully, this year I was able to find a limit before an injury stopped me. Instead, I only had a really hard, ridiculously stupid tough marathon. I've come up with a thousand excuses in the last 28 hours as to why, but the end result seems to be the same. I found my limit.

If you read my last post about my New Orleans race, you can probably just take the complete opposite of everything that happened there and apply it to yesterday. The best way I can describe the feeling in my legs was the "heaviness" that I usually feel for the first hour or so of a marathon, that normally works its way out around the 8-10 mile mark. After this part I am in my groove, my pace is steady, and I can oftentimes have a negative split. This time, however, I could never shake this feeling. I remember thinking at mile 12 (yes... mile TWELVE) that something was not right. I was passed by the 4 hour pace group like I was standing still. Since we didn't go into the race with any expectation about a finish time, I expected a repeat performance of my standard pace. Something was definitely wrong.

The course was a "T" shape with a short 2.5 mile to the split, then two long out and backs, then a finish up the same 2.5. The surface of the Tobacco Trail could not have been more perfect. Hard packed gravel for most and a paved asphalt path for part. The best part about this race (second to Danielle's unwavering support and company despite my ill mood, constant complaining, and crawling pace) was the out and back sections because searching for familiar faces kept my mind off the ever-slowing movement of my forward momentum. First we saw Jen and Dan, some friends from GNV, speedsters that finished super fast. Then we saw Jenny, who set a new PR, followed by Michelle and Sylvan (who also PRed). We even ran into Meredith, another local runner who made the trip up north to run. Knowing that at any moment one of our friends might see us was reason enough to keep moving forward with something that resembled a smile. And it worked. No matter how heavy the legs got, we always managed to run in the forward direction. The race organization was great, the aid stations were energetic and stocked, and even the shirts were great. I cannot say enough great things about this marathon.

The finish was a nice long downhill and the last 50 yards was a decent uphill. When we (finally) crossed the finish line I saw our crew cheering and waving. My mom came to meet us and for some reason the tears came (which happens a lot when mom is around to comfort me). After reassuring her I wasn't injured, that I just had a hard race, she followed it up with classic advice, "sometimes that happens". She's a runner too, so she gets it :)

Like I said before, I've come up with a dozen excuses why I bonked this race. Some of them are actually relevant. What I did learn though, was that I can't keep running these races and expect the same results when they're stacked so closely together. At least not yet.

I want to be clear about one thing. The finish time is irrelevant to me for 90% of my races. This is why I probably look at you like you have two heads when you ask me my finish time. With our frequency, most of my marathons are just training runs for the experience and to get me toward my 50 states goal. I usually only "race" 2 a year. So my finish time yesterday wasn't what got me down. I consider it a bonked race because my legs felt like lead the entire time. I never got a second wind (assuming I had a first, which is debatable), I never felt hydrated, and even though the course was flat, I felt like I was running an uphill race for most of it. THIS is the reason I'm disappointed in my performance. My coach works hard to design my plans, I work hard to execute them. When the pieces somehow fall short, its frustrating. The thing about long distance running (especially marathons and beyond) is that there are so many factors that go into play with each circumstance. You can't control for most things. You can only prepare through training and recovery. I will use this frustration to plan better for the future. I have 5 free weekends before we travel to Big Sur for my next marathon and I plan to use them wisely. I'll eat well, train hard, and recover smart.

As always, I owe infinite amounts to my training partner, Danielle, my wonderful Team Hot Legs, my family for being such wonderful and gracious

hosts for our whole group, and my coach for not telling me "I told you so" when he reads this blog posting.

If you need me over the next 6 weeks, I'll be the super focused one pounding the pavement. But I'll still give you a high 5 when we pass. Because at the end of the day, if you don't search for your limit, then how can you imagine your potential?

Run happy, folks!