AH Marathon weekend, finally!
So much work, planning, excitement, nervousness, anticipation, sweat, and joy has preceded this race.
So many miles, so many 800 meter repeats, so many long runs.
So many sneakers, so many tank tops, so many gels.
A bit of foot pain, and lots of days where my sports bra caused my skin to become raw (sorry, TMI, but also reality).
I officially signed up for the 2023 Chicago Marathon with Team Fight ALS on December 30, 2022, and every day since, I have thought about this weekend. I have logged 1,650 miles. I have seen all seasons in Anson B Nixon (in Kennett Square) and along the Schuylkill River Trail (in Philadelphia). From the dark cold mornings of winter, to the glowing green spring, to the sweaty sauna that was summer, and finally the crisp, perfect running weather, fall. My training went well, very well. The only real hiccup was some foot pain (I think Plantar fasciitis), but once I ruled flats and mules out of my work wardrobe and got supportive inserts for my shoes, I was in good shape. No knee pain, no ankle pain, no cramping, no strains - my legs and body felt stronger than it ever has! A few months out from the race, I loosely followed a 14-week training plan from Shalane Flannagan's (one of my idols) cookbook and freestyled as I went. My keys were to increase total volume gradually, take it easy when I wasn't feeling it, mix in some speed work, and NEVER skip a weekend long run. This can be a challenge to fit in with a lively city social life, but it’s all about balance, and I managed. There were many great runs and there were also some long runs that were not pretty, and involved walking and constantly stopping and questioning everything, but alas, they were completed. As someone who loves to run, I always imagine getting to my 20-mile run and expecting to feel so free and strong. However, in my experience, anything past about 10 miles is HARD. As my long run increased from 10 to 15, 10 became easier. As it went from 15 to 21, 15 became easier. But anything past 10 was not easy. I did enjoy every minute though.
One of the most challenging parts was the taper; the last 2-3 weeks where my mileage decreased. I remembered from my experience last year that I can feel restless and question my fitness as my total weekly volume declines. This time around, T-3 weeks and T-2 weeks actually did not feel that way as much. However, the last week did. Running 5-6 miles max didn't feel like enough. Plus, I started to load up on carbs as much as 4-5 days prior to the race (to expand my glycogen stores and have as much energy as possible!). By the time Friday before race day rolled around, I was so ready to get to Chicago and drop the hammer.
My first time in Chicago did not disappoint. Lexi and I flew in late Friday night, and were greeted warmly by Elaine and Meg, who hosted us for the night. On Saturday, I did a 3-mile shake out, where I felt great but simultaneously questioned everything. We then went to the race expo downtown to pick up my race bib and met up with Katie and Drew. The vibes were high and runners were everywhere. We got to stop at the ALS booth and I met Sarah, who was the lead in organizing our whole team, and we had a really special moment with her, Elaine, and my entire support squad. It was so special to see how moved she was that my friends were there to support my run, and my run was to support my friend and her family. I won't forget that moment. We ended the day with a classic distance runner night-before-a-race tradition: a pasta party. A few final carbs were stuffed in as my friends’ laughs and free flowing drinks (water in my case, red wine in their case) calmed my nerves and got my mind off the race.
On race morning, I was up and sneaking around my hotel room at 4:30AM (as Lexi and Elaine slept). I would have been nervous if there weren't so many logistics to think through: must eat a bagel and banana a few hours before the race, must get coffee (hopefully 2 cups), must pack gels for miles 5, 10, 15, 20, must drink water often, must dress for the race but stay warm beforehand. I layered up, curled my ponytail, packed up my bag, and was off onto the streets of Chicago. It was still dark out, but there were bundled runners everywhere and the energy and anticipation was palpable. I met up with Team Fight ALS in a building close to the starting line. It was lovely having a home base and a team of support. I slugged down coffee, swapped stories with four sweet girls also running for the team, and had a few minutes to reflect on the race ahead. Then, it was time to head to the start.
I bet you expected to get to the details of my race by now. But here's the thing, the race is a mere few hours (3 hours 25 minutes 57 seconds in my case to be exact). The training, process, and build up is so much more. But alas, onto the race.
The start line was packed with over 47,000 people. One of my favorite parts is when the national anthem is sung right before the race kicks off. All of the jumping and stretching and fidgeting stops, and everyone around is quiet. I always take the moment to recognize how amazing it is that I'm here and get the chance to do this, and how everyone else around is also here to do the same thing. A minute later, the race kicked off and we were underway.
My plan was this: break the race into 3 sections "10, 10, 10"- First 10 miles are a warm-up (should not be feeling it much after these first miles), second 10 miles are a tempo run (which all my training will help me to power through), and the final 10k, aka 6.2 miles, is pure grit (use whatever I have left to try to stay consistent and bring it home). I did have time goals as well, but tried to deemphasize in order to enjoy and take some pressure off.
The first few miles were great and flew by. I saw my cheer squad around mile 3 which pumped me up. I was actively trying not to run too fast in order to preserve energy, especially because the excitement of the crowds can cause you to get fired up and go faster than you think. I listened to music for the first few miles, but the crowds were so loud that I could barely hear it! I was in the zone, clicking off 7:51 minute mile after mile (surprisingly very consistent miles even though I was not looking at my watch for most of the race at all!). Every so often I was checking my phone for texts from Drew, who was updating me on where the cheer squad would be and also updating me on how the pro women were doing in the race (a few of my favorite runners were in the same race and I was dying to know how they were doing). At mile 9, I saw my crew again and was feeling strong. I threw them my long sleeve and gloves, switched to a podcast to really zone in for the long run, and put my head down. Each mile ticked by and I continued to feel steady. I took my gels every so often, and attempted to gulp down a sip or two of Gatorade or water from almost every station that I passed. The only problem was I really had to pee (I had since the starting line. The lines were just so long that I was nervous I'd miss the start of the race). Right after I made it through half, I was in dire need and saw a line of port-o-potties up ahead of me. I decided it was worth it to run in; so, I did as quick as I possibly could. I think I lost about 30 seconds when factoring in running off the course and back. But I was glad I did and felt so relieved afterwards (first time I had ever done that during a race).
The second half of the race was a grind. I kept repeating in my head over and over "10, 10, 10". First 10 done. Second 10 done. My legs didn't start really feeling it until around mile 19 or 20. But by 20, I was onto the final 10, the shortest section where I just had to give it all I got. Throughout the course, I tried to take in the sights a bit as we toured through almost every neighborhood, but for so much of the race I was just focused and zoning everything out that I didn't fully take all the sights in. With only a few miles left, we head south, which is actually away from the finish line, only to hit the turnaround and run north to the finish. You can see the runners who have turned around, so the hardest part of the race for me was probably seeing all the runners who had reached the turnaround and were going back towards the finish line. It was at that point where I started looking at my time on my watch and calculating what my estimated finish would be. They call this Marathon Math. I calculated that I would break 3:30:00 even if I ran 9 minute miles for the rest of the race. I knew that was no problem. Still, the mental aspect of seeing others on their way to the finish line was tough.
Luckily, my cheer squad came at just the right time and caught me around mile 22 on the south-bound street. Shortly after seeing them, I reached the turn around and had about a 5k (3.1 miles) to go. I saw them AGAIN shortly after and it was the final push I needed! Drew texted me right after saying "Go get those last 2.5 miles" and I did just that. At mile marker 25, the streets were crowded with so many people that were insanely loud, I could not even tell I had a podcast on. It was completely electric, full body chills. It was one of the coolest parts of the race. So many strangers, screaming for me "ONE MILE TO GO, YOU CAN DO THIS". The last mile was purely willing myself to keep moving forward. I felt pretty good given the circumstances, but could tell my legs were reaching their max and would not be able to ramp back up if I were to slow down or stop. Throughout the course, they have a flag at each mile to mark the distance, but the last mile they have many markers. 1200 meters, 800 meters, 400 meters. So close yet so far! There was a slight hill (one of the only inclines on the whole course!) with about 400 meters to go, but then I turned the corner and saw the finish line. I sprinted to the finish and raised my arms in such relief. I was holding back from bursting into tears as I looked at my watch and was well under 3:30:00. 3:25:57! I shed a few tears and winced a bunch from exhaustion in my legs as I lowered my head for a volunteer to place a medal around my neck. There is no feeling like the feeling at a marathon finish line.