I was concerned about the weather all week. Each forecast that I looked at was calling for rain and a lot of it for LA on Sunday for the marathon. I absolutely hate running in the rain. I hate being frozen to the bone from it. I knew that if the weather held true to the forecast, that this race would indeed be one of my most difficult. I slept pretty well up until around 3 am. There were people loudly talking to one another in a different language for about an hour and a half out in the hall. Some people are so rude and oblivious. I probably should have opened the door and said something, but now a days, you just don't know if it will make people act worse, so I rolled over and mumbled to myself. When I opened the curtains that morning and looked out at the sky from our hotel room window in downtown LA, the clouds seemed to scream rain. I touched the window pain and felt the chill in the air through the glass. I must have shifted through my clothing for about 20 minutes just trying to figure out how to dress. I usually like to dress a bit stylish for a marathon. After all, they cost a bit to enter and if I'm going to run all that way by choice, I choose also to look good doing it! ;-) This morning was a different story. I dressed for warmth and comfort. I wore my LA issued long sleeved tech shirt over my singlet, brought a rain jacket, and one of those emergency rain ponchos. My lucky superman fleece pants completed the ensemble and I was out the door by 5:15 with a kiss for luck from Dave. I was prepared. I had a great day the day before driving around and seeing some of the local sites including the Hollywood sign and La Brea Tar Pits. A great meal at The Cheesecake Factory topped off the afternoon and I hoped that my stomach would tolerate it. Thankfully, I was ok this morning. As I left the room, one thing that I was sure not to forget was my gloves. Now with this Raynaud's that I have, my hands have to be covered or they get so painful and numb that I seriously think that it could put me out of a race if coldness was allowed to settle into them. I walked about 2 blocks to the shuttle pickup with several other marathoners and hopped on board the warm bus. The ride was short and sweet. I had an hour and a half until the race start, so I hit up the bathroom and found a nice warm spot next to the spot light generator. It was blowing out hot air. I had it blowing onto my backside and I faced outward as to not breath in the fumes. Before too long, I had several other people standing there with me. I stood there until 6:45 then I shed my layers, dropped my gear bag, and lined up to enter the corral. It was already full to the brim. I couldn't see the pacing group and I knew that I may be on my own to try and pace myself. After a great vocal from one of the Pussycat Dolls singing the national anthem, the race began. The horns blared and the wave start surged forward. To this day, I still don't understand why someone that runs a 10 minute pace would get in a corral for an 8 minute pace. I was stuck behind slower runners quite frequently throughout the race. The first several miles, it was like playing a game of dodge ball, weaving in and out of people trying to avoid being stepped on or elbowed. I kept pace with my little moving guy pacer on my garmin, and held that pace regardless. I named him "Ralph." The silly things we do when we are alone with our own thoughts. I needed someone to encourage me and keep me focussed and the little digital man "Ralph" on my watch did just that. It was a hilly course but I kept my mind focussed on pace. At least when I ran up a hill, I knew that there would be either a level or some downhill on the other side. To PR on this course would be a challenge and to BQ would be even a greater challenge. I was determined to make one of those things happen today. I had trained really hard the past 2 months, and I wanted to see results. By mile 4, my long sleeved shirt was off tied around my waist. I kept my pull off sleeves on along with my gloves. There was a head on wind that varied from 5-15 MPH throughout the race, but amazingly no rain. The clouds gave way to peeking sun and brought with it some much needed warmth along the course. The "bad patches" would come and go where I would feel terrible... I would say "Talk to me Ralph" and look down at my watch. I would then hear my affirmations. "Yes, you can do this, disappointment is forever and pain is only temporary, so suck it up!" It works for me. The hydration stations are my only area where I typically allow myself to walk. I can't drink and run at the same time. It always leads to choking and burping which I really don't care to experience while racing. This is an area where I lose time and I do need to work on this because I could shave off minutes in my marathons if I could run and drink but it is a mental relief to me to know that I have a place to rest and regroup along the way. I lost track of the miles and deliberately didn't look at that on my watch. I didn't want to know what mile I was at because I don't like counting them down. I took the race moment my moment and suddenly my watch died ( I guess around mile 17). Along with that, there went my pacer "Ralph." I had to judge pace the last several miles. I think it was mile 20 when I finally asked someone what mile it was. I was feeling a lot of pain in my upper left shoulder blade. My right foot had pain in the pad of it (I think I have a morton's neuroma) which I have been trying to ignore the existence of it for the past several months. Then soon, my left foot toe area lit on fire. I knew that either meant bleeding toes or blisters. I had several stops the last few miles because of the knot in my upper back. It was so bad that I was having a hard time even swinging the left arm while running. I think I may have run too fast early on and was now paying the price. At several points earlier in the race I was ahead of "Ralph" on my watch. The last 2 miles, I could feel the wind really picking up. Gusts of 30 mph make it for an interesting end. Finally when I could see the finish line, it almost seemed like it took forever to reach it. When I crossed and heard Dave yell my name, I felt like at that moment, everything came together. I knew that a BQ didn't happen for me today, but I knew it was close. I was feeling confident about a PR though. Sure enough... it was mine. I finally felt like I reaped some of the rewards of hard training and consistency that I have put into my training over the last several months. True disappointment for me, comes in the form of seeing lack of improvement or progress. I am indeed a work in progress and I do know one thing to be true.... I have only just begun. Splits- 10k 54:06 20k 1:47:03 30k 2:40:26 40k 3:37:25
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