Chicago Marathon - Part II

Well, just like with most all of my races, I had good intentions of training hard and solidifying a good performance this year - especially since I blew my first marathon in 2009 (also Chicago). But, much like most of my races, I failed my goal of weekend long-runs and cross training on the bike. Instead, Alicia and I winged the 26.2 miles we ran/walked 4 days ago, and I'm STILL paying for it!

Reading older posts, you've probably determined by now that although I love to race, I hate to train. And, as those of you that race know, these two combinations don't go together too well - especially when you're talking long distances, such as the marathon. But, having done it twice before (and twice before promising myself I would never do it again), I went out with high hopes but no expectation other than to finish. Now.... normally during a non-trained-for half marathon I can still get a halfway decent finishing time despite a tired body and sore legs. Since my back-to-back races in May however (the Derby HM on Saturday, Flying Pig full on Sunday), my knees haven't quite been what they used to be. And boy oh boy did I feel it this past weekend.

The weather was decent at the start, but by "decent" I mean it was cool enough to run a marathon in had it stayed that way. However, when the sun came out and the air temperature started to rise, we knew we were in for a scorcher of a race. We did our regular 4:1 intervals to start and I was amazed at how good I felt. I usually take a while to warm up and then knock it out of the park 3-4 miles in, but this was unlike anything I've ever felt at the beginning of a race before, so I had a small thought that perhaps I could actually have a decent no-training-for-this-race run afterall.

Alicia had even less training than I did, so it didn't surprise me when she had to cut the running distance short and walk more. This went on after the first 3-4 miles, and stayed that way until 8 or so. For the few miles after that, I felt we were holding our own pretty well, and were still on our way to a decent race. At one point I looked down and saw that we were on pace to do a 5:15 - 5:30 finish, which would have been a PR for us both. Little did we know at the time, Karma had a different idea of how this race would go.

I'm not sure at what point we felt it, or who felt it first, but the injuries of marathons past - hey, I kinda like that label, witty me :) - soon crept up and my left knee (the one I WASN'T already wearing a brace on), and Alicia's ankle started to whisper to us that they were present and accounted for. Soon before the half-way mark we were both doing little more than walking, and had both already agreed that we would be perfectly fine with walking the remainder of the race so long as we finished it. No truer words have been spoken during a race, because that is pretty much exactly the way it went down. Between blistered feet, GI issues, tweeking ankles, and aching knees we all but ditched any sort of run/walk method and instead turned our marathon into a nice little "hey, let's catch up with one another" stroll.

This went on for many miles, and we seemed to be doing okay with it. At mile 16 someone handed us both a beer and we enjoyed and took comfort in the fact that we were having a good time and that the pain was at least bearable - heck, we may even feel the best we've ever felt after a race considering the amount of exersion we're NOT putting into it. My naive little mind actually thought this for a long time into the second part of the race. I'm not sure at what point in all changed, but if I had to guess I'd say it was somewhere between 19 and 22 miles because at 22 I hit a complete and utter brick wall that did everything it could to not allow me to go any further.

By this point I had switched the knee brace to my left leg, although it really was too late. Alicia had caught somewhat of a second wind and was doing her usual high-pitched, so giddy you wanna slap her motivational talk and wanted nothing more than to finish the race if only to stop the pain. I, however, would have loved to do the same, but my knee hurt so badly that I could do little more than limp ahead. We began intervals of "shuffling" and walking just to get closer to the finish line a little bit faster. Whene we got to the 25th mile I felt somewhat relieved until I realized that this would be the LONGEST. MILE. EVER. One thing we had going for us however, is that at least we weren't the young woman who lay on the ground a mere 1/2 mile to the finish with EMS standing around her chugging a bottle of water. I mean, at least we were going to make it to the finish line. Right?

We turned our next-to-last corner and saw the last, and only, hill of the entire course (who the hell does that, by the way? ends a marathon on a hill????) and knew we were home free. Alicia ran ahead as I was still hobbling in pain, and finished probably 10-15 seconds faster than my unofficial time of 6:58:32. Yes, I had a seven hour marathon! Pathetic. But.... at least I went out there and did it - pain and all. It's not something I ENJOY doing. It's just that I tend to get myself in these situations where I have good intentions of knocking one out of the park, only to realize a few weeks before the race that I've had time (or energy, or motivation, or any other excuse you want to insert here) to do little more than hang out in the dugout all season. So, we'll chock this one up to another one of Connie's grand ideas that didn't quite pan out. Yes, I got the medal, and yes I have the blisters and still-throbbing knees to prove that I did the race. But I would much rather be sitting here typing out a post on how I trained with all my blood, sweat and tears and went out on race day knowing that I gave it my best shot. I haven't felt that way in any races this year. Maybe it's time to try something different..... Until next time.