Ahhh.. The Half Marathon
I believe in my last post I said something along the lines of ' the half marathon is my favorite distance. Not long enough to hit the wall...". I'm pretty funny some days.
Actually, I felt pretty freaking fantastic until around mile 8 of this race. Which makes sense, most of my training runs have been around 8 miles (your body does what you train it to do). If this had been a 10 mile race, I would be writing a pretty uneventful blog post. Yes, the terrain was rugged (hilly, steep, through rivers, rocks, roots, etc.), and yes it was hot (around 102* by noon). But, this was not a 10 mile race; it was a half marathon + some (13.5 to be exact) and around mile 10 all hell broke loose.
The Positive
I could focus on my piss poor performance, or that I became ill, or the dozens of other factors that completely turned my day upside down (which I will explain). But I'd like to focus on my new friend, Chateau, for a minute. Not all angels wear wings; thank the lord for this woman. She saw me struggle, used reinforcing - positive words when shit got real, gave me the water off of her back (camelback) and even lent a soothing hand when I vomited all of it back up. She waited with me when the EMTs were checking my vitals, she continued to bring me water, food, Cokes, and she waited while my husband made the nearly an hour drive to race course to pick me up. I cannot express my gratitude here, (and I certainly didn't with my bitchy attitude while these events unfolded), but without her I don't know if I would've seen the finish line for this course. For that I am eternally thankful.
Race Day
Pre-race day. So many factors almost prevented me from making this race. My friend who was going to do the 10K was unable to run, and my husband's daughter had a volleyball game scheduled for Saturday morning. This meat I was driving over 40 minutes away alone, to complete a highly difficult, technical course without any familiar support. I decided I would go anyway.
Race Morning. I woke up 30 min later than planned Saturday morning (alarm scheduled for 5:30, but I hit snooze and didn't wake up until 5:59). My husband threw his arm over me as I tried to get out of bed. He asked me to please stay, and proceeded to kiss my neck several times... Had I been getting up for work, or just a regular run, (or really, anything else other than a race I just dropped $80 for a week ago) I most likely would've stayed. But I got up anyway.
Driving. Despite hastily brushing my teeth, pouring a cup of coffee, lacing my shoes, and packing my gym bag in record time, I knew I was running late. My GPS had an ETA of 7:41 AM (with an 8 AM race start). I was cutting this too close. Once I made a wrong turn down a winding road in Clifton, my GPS changed to a 7:58 arrival time. I knew I would likely miss the start. I could've turned around, or just gone to my friends house for a day of winery hopping a little early (as we planned later than afternoon). But I had just drove 40 minutes away for a race; I decided I'd go to the event anyway.
Parking. I drove down to the end of a no outlet, dead-end, narrow road at the bottom of a steep hill. It was 7:56 AM (I beat the clock!) when I saw race volunteers directing traffic. I explained I got lost ( a partial truth) and I was there for the half. The pointed to a narrow road on the left that looked like a long drive way. The volunteer said " you're gonna have to book it back here and down that road to get to check in and the race start, but you'll need to stay to the right because the race is starting in 3 minutes". Great. As i parked and began the .6 mile power walk to check in, I heard the race director shouting the famous words - Ready, Set, Go (gun shot). I veered to the right as a large pack of half marathoners sped down the gravel road. All body types were present; the tall lean built men were leading the pack, followed by the women you'd see displayed on the covers of 'Runner's World' or "Muscle and Fitness Hers". The pack continued to thin out as the more novice runners finished off the back of the pack. Feeling emotionally defeated, I slowly walked the the check in table. I sadly described to the women at the table that I had gotten lost, but I was there for the half marathon. They explained that I was about 8 minutes behind already, and by the time I got out there it would be time for the 10K to start. Both women encouraged me to downgrade to the 10K and start at 8:20. I highly considered it. A 10K on rugged terrain is still bad ass, plus I haven't really trained for a half marathon distance (not the way I normally would). It was really hot at almost 90* already, who would it hurt? But, I knew I wouldn't be happy. In fact I'd be down right depressed/pissed all day. I told them I would start the half now. They both looked surprised. The woman picked up her walkie talkie and said " We have one more half marathoner, don't clear the course yet". They wished me luck and sent me on my way.
The Race
The EX2 staff were beyond accommodating. They kept the first 3 volunteers along the race route to ensure I made it through the first major obstacles- a rocky creek and rugged hill all within the first .75 miles. I was testing out a new hydration belt for this race. No matter how I adjusted it, it continued to bounce on my hips and belly. Less than a mile in I wanted to ditch the thing, but since I was alone I needed it for my car keys and phone, so I was stuck with the burden for a full 13 + miles.
I felt amazing. Really. The course was so perfect; lush green bushes, trees, an awesome view of the river to my right. Blue and violet flowers illuminated the running trail. I kept repeating a mantra over and over " This is why you do this. This is what makes life worth living". I thought about how I almost didn't go, how I almost turned back when I knew I was late, and how I usually try to talk myself out of races when I have trouble waking up on the weekends. But then you start, and you remember why you do it. I love running, and I felt so alive.
I also thought that if I ever sign up for another trail run, maybe I would ' get lost' again. With trail runs, I always have overwhelming anxiety when I share narrow, difficult paths with other runners. Starting late gave me an advantage; I was hauling ass without anyone else in my way or trying to run me over. This was great! Maybe I'd start running trails for my training runs on the weekends. Around mile 4 I felt like I was flying; there was nothing I couldn't accomplish today.
Despite starting 18 minutes behind the racers, I quickly started passing people in the back of the pack. 1,2,3, 4&5, 6, 7, 8, etc. I stopped counting after I passed the 9th person. I practiced humility, and told everyone I ran into 'great job' or 'you've got this'. I also stopped at every aid station (there were 7 total, which is a lot considering the layout for this course) to chat with race volunteers and to refuel on Gatorade.
When I got to mile 7, I started to feel hot. Not sweaty hot, but my head felt like my brain was burning. I can't really describe it too well - I knew I was over heating. My heart rate was erratic, not just fast from running, but up and down. I drank 3 cups of water at this next aid station, which in hindsight wasn't a great decision. With every stride I made I could hear water whooshing in my belly.
The Turning Point
I came to a huge incline. I didn't bother to read the course map before the race (another mistake) so I had no idea what elevation levels I was facing. As I began hiking upwards, I saw a yellow sign that read " only 2 miles to go". I wasn't wearing a tracking device, and mile markers were sporadic, but I knew that couldn't be accurate. By my estimate I had around 5 to go. But hey, maybe I was wrong, maybe I got caught up in the race excitement and just cruised though the last 3 miles. This hill was a monster, covered in roots and rocks that would make even the most gifted runner stop in their tracks. I was using my hands to grab trees, roots - anything that would keep me from losing my balance and tumbling to a gory death on the rocks below.
Once I reached the top my soul was crushed. 2 signs read " 8.4 mile" and ''11.8 mile". This meant I was at 8.4 miles, and in order to finish this course I had to make this climb again in 3 miles. So, for the second time around, you would only have ' 2 miles to go'. I really lost my motivation. I wanted to be done.
There was a small downhill that followed the mountain upwards. As I began to run again, I heard people behind me. I was being lapped by the elite runners at the front of the pack. They only had 2 miles (or 1.5 by now) to go. For their second time around these guys were flying. This was only slightly soul-crushing after realizing I had to do all of this for a second time.
The heat was becoming intolerable; by now it was after 10 AM and it was near 100*. I continued down the course until I came to another yellow sign that said ' 1 mile to go'. Right. So, slightly over 4 miles for me. I continued up and down the hills, where off in the distance I saw a sign that read ' FINISH' and an arrow pointing to the left. Next to it, another sign read 9.9. I really considered veering left. The volunteers wouldn't remember if this was the first or second time they saw me. I was struggling, it was hot; the thought of going another 3.5 miles was unrealistic. I approached the turn, ready to call it quits. But, I decided to proceed to the 9.9 mile route and finish the course, anyway.
And Then, it all Fell Apart
At this point, 2 of the people I had passed early on caught up to me. They BOTH went left to finish. I don't know why that upset me as much as it did; they have to live with that decision, not me. But I really got angry. I hope they told the timers they both cheated, or at least that they couldn't complete the full course. Maybe because I wanted to do what they did so badly, but I'd never let myself live it down.
I became slightly delirious. My mouth was completely dry; both of the water bottles in my hydration belt had bounced out of their holders during the run. I missed the turn onto the path in the forest and ended up running down the gravel road looking for the course markings. 4-5 minutes later I realized I must've done something wrong and I turned back. This easily added a half mile to the run. I came back to the 9.9 mile marker and began asking people where I supposed to go. I considered just going to my car and calling it a day. This was going south fast.
Someone directed me to the correct race route, which was clearly marked. This should've been an early warning sign I wasn't thinking clearly. As I followed the path, suddenly I wasn't alone anymore. A woman I had passed very early in the course appeared. I was still slightly confused, and I asked her if we were following the right path. Together we began walking, discussing the immense heat, and started navigating the markings on the course.
An Angel Among Us
Her name was Chateau. Chateau explained that she really wasn't out on the course to get a good time today, but she was practicing being on her feet for long periods of time. In fact, she had a half marathon tomorrow morning that she wanted to stay agile for. Her main goal was an upcoming 50 mile race. Yes, she's done Ragnar. Yes, she's completed multiple marathons. Ya, she just did a race last weekend and the one before that. Holy cow. Go figure. I just met a kindred spirit in a moment of despair.
She told me she remembered me from earlier, and she instinctively knew I must've started late by how fast I was tackling the course. Well, yea, a lot of good it did me now. Here we both were, walking at 10.5 miles in. It was right about this time I stepped on a HUGE black snake that slithered off the path. I screamed, she jumped, and for a moment I just stood there like a deer in headlights. "well, keep going" she blurted out. I was fading, fast. I told her I was so thirsty, and my head was hurting. She offered me water from her camelback, which I refused. After all, once we got to the top of the huge climb there would be another water stop.
Chateau did a great job of keeping my mind active. She told me stories about her past races; I learned about her boyfriend's ambitions, her boyfriend's kids, her diet, her family quarrels. I wondered if she thought I was a bitch or just uninterested, because I was not saying much. I was just trying to focus on staying upright and getting to more water. But really, it helped. Whenever we got to a flat patch of land she encouraged me to run. Unlike me, she had studied the course map, and she knew when we were going to approach hills.
After an eternity of run/walking, we finally came to the mountain like, rugged climb, for the second time around. We saw a man stuck half way up the hill. He said he was done and was not going to complete the course. Chateau explained to him we were walking the remaining 2 miles if he wanted to join us. He declined and said he was having the medic truck pick him up. I secretly wanted to catch the truck with him.
I continued to climb; that's when it hit me. Colors became lighter... I was losing my sight. I became so dizzy I had to sit down. I finally drank from Chateau's camelback and it was delicious. She asked me if my heart was racing, and it wasn't more than normal (or so I thought). I stood up, wavering back and forth, but continuing to climb, more slowly than before, and still grabbing branches and roots for support. Thankfully the water stop was still at the top of the climb. Mile 11.8. 1.5 to go.
I inhaled 4 cups of Gatorade. No matter how much I drank the thirst wouldn't stop. I took another cup as we continued walking down the trail. My stomach immediately started flipping, and I regretted drinking so much so fast. I looked at Chateau and told her I had to stop- I was going to be sick. Just then I turned to the right and began puking. Violently. I hadn't had breakfast. This was all of the water I had had all day, coming out in full force. I couldn't talk, stop, or even stand up. I apologized profusely. I was so embarrassed. The entire time I was ill Chateau had her hand on my back, telling me 'it was OK.' 'Even elite athletes have a difficult time in high heat and humidity.' 'That this was just going to make Ragnar next week even easier.' How can someone you just met know exactly the right things to say? How can someone be so understanding? I urged her to go on without me, and she absolutely refused to hear it. " And what, let something happen to you? How would that be worth it? I'm not placing in this series." So we walked on together, with me stopping every so often to bend at the waist. Why I'm not sure - to pray? Admire the ground? Not die? I couldn't tell you.
I'd be lying if I wrote about what happened between then and the finish line; I don't know. It's gone from my mind. I know about a quarter mile from the finish line I fell for the first time. I do remember losing my sight and hitting the ground. Chateau told me to wait while she got help, but I could see the finish banner. If I had to crawl I was getting across that line. She helped me up, and I power walked to the finish. Then I collapsed.
Waking Up
I guess at some point after I fell I called my husband and just puked while he was on the phone; I don't remember. The medics told me I was throwing up on the ground, so they moved me to the shade. I had a cold towel on my head, a cuff on my arm for blood pressure, someone pricking my finger for blood sugar levels, a thermometer in my ear, several wires tapped to my chest, arms, and legs (and someone kept yelling "she's too sweaty for the wires to stay on"), and then someone prepping my arm for an IV. I reached for a cup of water and downed it, which was a mistake. I immediately started throwing up again, and I nearly hit one of the medics trying to get a wire on my ankle. Once I realized they were getting a needle out I lost it. I started begging them not to put a needle in my arm. The medic said " you can have this or 2 needles at the hospital - your choice". I again refused and begged him not to put a needle in my arm. Once they saw I was coherent they listened to me, but I really had to convince them I was self-aware.
What's your name?
What's your address?
What day is it?
Do you know where you are?
Who is Tassha?
Huh?
You said Tassha was here.
Uh, well no. She's not. I was planning on meeting Tassha after the race. Did I call her name out in delirium? No clue.
Dehydration is one serious mind fuck. What the hell happened to me?
The medics insisted I go get checked out at the hospital. Apparently I was very pale, running a high temperature, and I was talking non-sense before being carried to the shade. But, now I was starting to feel normal. The entire time this exchange carried on Chateau was bringing me water, Gatorade, M&Ms, a breakfast burrito, trail mix, really anything that they were offering from the finisher's table. I couldn't even look at food, then she brought me a Coke. A regular Coke, not the diet crap I usually drink. I can't even remember the last time I had a regular Coke,but for some reason that was all I wanted at that moment. It was delicious! My God why did I ever give it up... And it was the first beverage my body didn't expel - must be a good sign.
The medics made me sign a wavier indicating that I refused to go to the hospital. They said under no circumstances was I to drive home; one of the medics lived in Brambleton and offered to take me. Chateau, who lives in Crystal City (completely out of the way) offered multiple times to drive me home. I called my husband, who reluctantly agreed to come pick me up. He didn't understand the severity of my situation; this was no normal race fatigue. I didn't want to burden anyone anymore than I already had. The deputy told me my color was returning and I looked much better than I had. I was so embarrassed; what a scene I caused at this event. Joel did drive out to get me and Chateau waited with me the entire time until he arrived.
Despite all of this, I still managed to not finish dead last. Not that that is the most important thing, but it lessened the blow to my ego slightly All in all I was out there for about 4 hours. Not sure how I finished before anyone, but people did come in after me. 12 people dropped from the course and did not finish (DNF). It took me over an hour to do the last 3 miles; I'm just glad I did them. The race director of EX2 Adventures, Jim Harmon, said he would be contacting me over the next few days to ensure I was doing alright. I could tell he was really concerned, which made this experience special to my heart.
Humbled
The entire staff for EX2 was amazing; thank god for your volunteers and the amazing people who participate in your events. Without everyone's help, I don't know that I would've made it across that finish line yesterday. I don't even know if I'd be home, instead of laid up in a hospital. Yes it was hot, yes it was the most difficult trail run course I've ever seen, and yes I gave a horrible race performance. But I don't feel like I failed. If racing is only about your final time on the clock, then you are missing the point. I run for the medals, for placing, for weight loss, etc. I run for all of those reasons - but if they were the only reasons I ran it wouldn't be enough to keep me motivated race after race, year after year. I run to fail, to fall, to find myself, to make new friends, to get better, to get stronger, get more courageous, and become more humble. These are the things, my friends, people often forget to express. But they are, by a long shot, the most important aspects of this lifestyle.
Cheers, happy running, and stay healthy, happy, and hungry for all life throws your way!
India
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