Different combinations of letters are important at different times throughout our lives. We begin our schooling in 'K' and work our way through elementary. We then go to MS followed by HS (which were the same school for me). At the end of HS, we takethe SAT and ACT so that we can apply for colleges (I ended up going to ASU) and acquire a B.S. or some other degree. Some then take the GRE to get into a graduate program (EEB at UT for me) where, in my field, we send off applications to NSF in the hopes of obtaining a DDIG. All this latter part can lead toward obtaining a Ph.D., which, for me, turned out to be a fairly long and twisty-turny road, and so along the way, I got into long-distance running and started doing races and setting PRs, and eventually set my sites on running a BQ.
Somehow it happened such that the culminating events of my eight-year venture toward those three precious letters, Ph.D., and shorter but similarly important to me venture toward those two other precious letters, BQ, were to fall ten days apart in the month of February this year.
What an amazing feat, I thought, to defend my dissertation on a Friday and qualify for Boston the following weekend on Sunday. It seemed appropriate that it would happen that way. Free from the weight of the defense, I would run light on my feet, prancing almost, to the finish line of the Austin marathon in a time of 3:25, qualifying for Boston 2015 and solidifying February 2014 as the best. month. ever. I joked with friends that if I actually managed to pull this off, I would probably just collapse into fetal position afterward, rocking back-and-forth, because I wouldn't know what to do with myself with those two goals completed.
Well, things don't always go as planned.
My Longest Endurance Event Yet (hopefully ever)
Thursday, February 6th, about 7:00 PM, I am in a great mood after having run my last pre-marathon run with the Ship (my running group). I am excited for the race next weekend, nervous about the defense scheduled for 9:00AM the next morning and even more nervous about the weather reports of possible ice and what would happen if, in the worst case weather scenario, school were cancelled and along with it, my defense. I get in my car after the run and before I could take a deep breath and attempt to relax myself, my phone rings, and it is my advisor saying 'The weather reports are getting worse. Do you have a contingency plan in place?'
I went home and got in the shower, and by the time I'd gotten out, UT had delayed school till noon, essentially cancelling my defense. The worst case weather scenario had occurred.
(Expletive)
This began a night of worrying, phone calls, emails, chats, text messages, crying, hope, despair....'It's on. It's off. It's at 9:00. It's at 2:00. We can't hold it. I'll be there. I can't make it. You can do it April 25th instead. It's on. It's off.......' till 11:00 at night. I slept maybe two hours at most before waking up fully at 6:00AM where the scenario continued in the same way. At 9:00AM, I was dressed, in my office and still unsure if I am to defend that day, or if I have to wait two months until one of my advisors returns from overseas when, finally, 45 minutes before it starts, everyone agrees and makes their way to the classroom where it is to be held.
The impossible happened. I was able to defend, even with the
terrible ice storm (not) occurring outside.
Somehow, I made this defense happen against all odds. My family told me they were possibly more proud of me for not giving up and making it happen than for the eight years of work I defended in there (they're proud of me for that too, though, don't worry). I decided to use this as motivation for the race and even ended up adding 'Dr.' in front of my name on my bib. Yes, it would be fun to hear people call out, 'Go, Dr. Laura!!', but I did it more to remind myself that if I can do this (get my Ph.D.), I can get that BQ.
With 'Dr. Laura' on my bib, I was ready to take on the marathon
Uh-oh.
Predicted forecast: worst case scenario weather. High temps mixed with uber high humidity = recipe for disaster for me, and I knew it, but I spent the next week playing every mind trick I could with myself trying to convince myself I could overcome it if I were mentally prepared and ridiculously hydrated.
Kindly sent to me by a pace group buddy expressing
her thoughts on the forecast for race day (thanks, Ashley)
Some of my pace group buddies (with whom I had put in so many miles) and I met up the day before the marthon for a 'strategery' pow-wow to discuss the formidable forecast and our plan for how fast/slow to run the different sections. We'll run together the first half through the hills, then everyone give what they've got for the second, 'flatter' half. After we crafted our plan, we headed to the expo to get our bibs and have nervous, excited conversations about weather, hydration, weather, what's for dinner, weather, what are you going to wear, weather, where to meet in the morning, and a little bit more about the weather. We bid adieu and good luck, and I went home to finalize plans for my clothes, gels, water bottles, bib, and.....the weather.
Some of my totally awesomesauce pace groupers
and I head to the expo to pick up our bibs
Race Day
Let's just give the abridged version, shall we? Basically, I did not meet my BQ goal. Far from it, indeed. I had a similar experience to my Austin marathon experience last year in performance, though, it was much improved in attitude, so I guess that's a win there. I was on target through the half, but I had gone out too strong on that early 3 mile long hill, and by the time I reached the slightly uphill 6 mile section that took you from mile 13 to mile 19, I was toast.
'No, not again,' I thought. 'This can't be happening again.' I tried to fight it off, but my legs just wouldn't go. I had run that stretch three or four times during 20 mile training runs and had run it well - the last two times well under Boston pace. Those runs were in cooler temperatures and low humidity, but I knew that I was slowing down even more than what might be expected from the conditions. I don't know why. Maybe that early hill. Maybe because I let up on my cross-training during the last few weeks, because I felt too busy to keep up with it while with preparing for the defense. Maybe it was all in my head, though, I had practiced overcoming my head in training, but maybe it was just too much pressure during the real thing. Whatever the problem, I slowed down. A lot.
I knew people were waiting for me up ahead. I thought about them scanning the crowd for me and wondering what had happened. I thought about ALL the miles I still had left to go, then quickly shook that thought out of my mind. 'Think about it in sections,' I told myself. I was on section 5 out of 6. That sounded so much better than, 'You have eleven miles to go.'
Somehow, I slogged through the remaining uphill miles and got to where you can feel the ground FINALLY going back down. I got a boost both from this fact and the fact that I knew that someone I was very excited to see was waiting just about a mile ahead with a filled water bottle and a bag of ice for me. I got to mile 20.5, got the drink and ice and some much needed encouragement and forged on.
I used several mantras to help keep me going this race. One I picked up at mile 7 from a sign someone had on S. 1st that read 'Believe. Achieve.' That one played over and over in my head most of the race. There was also a little 'Just one foot in front of the other' there for a bit in those later miles (it had come to that point where I needed this seemingly obvious reminder), and Destiny's Child's 'I'm a Survivor' was on repeat on my mp3 player from about mile 22 to the finish....'I'm a survivor. I'm not gonna' give up. I'm not gonna' stop. I'm gon' work harder.' I don't know if 'harder' is the right term, but I certainly didn't give up like I felt like I had last year.
I knew friends were going to be at 21, 22 and 23, and one of those friends had been reprimanding me for a year for how angry I looked last year when I came by her at that spot, so my goal was to smile and wave, which I managed as well as one 22 miles into a hot and humid marathon can do - at least I think I passed the 'run happy' test this year. Upon passing the last friend I knew was out there and not knowing of any more people to help motivate me forward in those last few miles (though, there were a couple much appreciated surprises), words from one of the speakers at one of the pre-race seminars made it's way into my head and stayed there through the finish. 'Run with your heart'. The speaker had said, 'When you have nothing left in your legs, run with your heart', and so that's what I did.
I finished the marathon with my second slowest time ever and two minutes slower than last year- a far cry from my BQ dream, but I had walked less than in any other marathon, and more importantly, I had kept my head together, so I consider it improvement.
I got stuck in the finishing chute as the muscles in my legs and feet started cramping up as soon as I stopped moving. I had taken in salt the whole race to avoid just this, but apparently, my efforts were not sufficient. I got to a point where I could literally not take a step, because my left calf and toes were on the verge of cramping if I moved, and my right toes would only not cramp if held in a dorsiflexed position making walking a non-possibility. I really just wanted to hobble over to where I could stretch, but every time I tried, my calf started trying to squish itself up into a tiny, little ball. I finally had to ask for help from a man who was standing nearby eating chips (for the salt) to help me get over to where I could stretch. I just wanted to get out of there and find the person waiting for me at the exit that I really wanted to see and find out how my friends had fared. The man helped me over to the fence and gave me the rest of his chips, and I managed to stretch enough to where I could hobble out of the chute before the cramps started back up. Finally, after getting out and getting my shoes off, I manually unfolded my toes and got the cramps to subside and was able to (extremely slowly) shuffle about. I inched (somewhat literally) to the the gear check tent to get my finisher's shirt and then make my way to the hotel room that a friend who unfortunately ended up not being able to do the race herself had let me use, which was right at the finish line - a total godsend at that point (thank-you, friend).
I found one of my training buddies upon emerging
from the finishing chute. Way to PR, Saleem!
Eventually, we made our way to the Black Sheep Lodge where people from both my running groups had gathered to eat and share stories of their individual journeys out there on the course. A few people had stories of victory and PRs and exceeding their goals! Most stories had a common theme to mine of being 10 to 25 to 40 or more minutes off their goal time (I was 30 minutes off mine) and the difficulty they endured to get that time. There was a bit of frustration among the group at the cruel weather trick played upon us of having trained in the polar vortexes only to race in heat and humidity, but I think there was a greater sense of camaraderie and contentment and achievement in conquering a tough course on a tough day, even if we didn't do it as fast as we had wanted. It was comforting to be there with all those people I had put in so many miles with over so many months.
Some of the Ship folks I got to see afterward at the
Black Sheep Lodge. Love these 'Fools'!
Black Sheep Lodge. Love these 'Fools'!
After devouring a veggie burger and sweet potato fries and gulping down a big fountain Dr. Pepper (that I had been dreaming about for the last couple weeks leading up to the marathon), it was time to go home and relax and be quiet and reflect.
So, I did not get my BQ, but as I told some friends, if one of my February letter-getting ventures had to go awry, that is the one I would have picked. I will have many more opportunities to try for the BQ, and, in fact, I just signed up for the OKC marathon (along with a couple pace-group buddies) in an attempt to at least run a good, solid PR (though, don't think for a minute I will forget about those other two letters while I'm there...)
I don't know when it will happen, but I do know that it will happen, because I'm not going to stop trying until it does. As Thomas Edison said, 'I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work.' I will find the one that does, though, one of these days, because if nothing else, I'm just too darn stubborn not to.
A CDEFGHIJKLMNOP RSTUVWXYZ
