Oh Philly....

"that's all she wrote"

It's been a little over a week since Philly and all I can really come up with is...."Marathon #5 is in the books"

I really like the Philly course, the chicken broth they give you after the race, the fans, the city feel so close to home without it being NY....all of it!
I PR in Philly and think I will end up running it again next year because Philly and I have some unfinished business.

Philly was cold....really cold.  There was a real feel temperature of 26 as a high and there was a wind advisory that day.  I generally wear shorts and a tank top to race.  In fall marathons I also wear a throw away sweatshirt for the beginning of the race, gloves I can throw away, something that covers my ears that can go behind my ears if I get warm, and I wear sleeves that can be pushed down when I get warm. That wasn't exactly the case in this race.  My throw away sweatshirt wasn't thrown until mile 13.5 and even after I was freezing and wishing I still had it.  There were some crazy wind gusts that had you swearing and doing your best to tuck your chin and push forward.

Like Steamtown, I had a plan of doing 8:35 minute miles.  I felt like my watch was all over the place.  This happens in cities because of the buildings, but it's super annoying when you're trying to keep a certain pace.  I got into my rhythm and started keeping things fairly steady.  As I continued on I tried not to focus on trying for my BQ, but staying relaxed and comfortable.  I was was in the best shape of  my life and well trained....I couldn't control the elements, but I could/had to control my head.  I ran a decent race.

I remember the out and back on Kelly Drive.  On one side of the road it was mile 15 and the wind was in your face making you wish you were on the other side of the street, not just because the other side of the road was mile 25, but because the other side of the road meant the wind would be at your back and helping you along.    I like to think that when I was at mile 15 and the elites were on the other side, at mile 25, they looked effortless and comfortable because they had the wind pushing them forward.  As I continued on, with the wind in my face, I longed for the turn around point at mile 20.

My friend, Kelly, ran into me around mile 17 and I couldn't have been happier.  She is a VERY seasoned marathoner and wasn't putting the pressure on herself that I put on myself.  She was great to run with.  She made the marathon look easy and fun.  Around mile 18 I started to get tired, probably because I wasn't taking in enough calories.  My friend, Kelly, in my opinion, still had plenty of gas in the tank and could have pushed on ahead of me, but she stayed with me.  It was like she knew what to say to help me along.  As we continued on, she'd check in and and see how I was.  She was such a great motivator.  She knows my dream of a BQ and was super encouraging in helping me get my BQ.  I had accepted my BQ was out the window, but she kept pushing me.  I probably wouldn't have had a PR if it weren't for her.  I have to say, by the time I finished I was smiling and feeling great.  I knew I had a PR and that was a great feeling-even if it was only for a little while.....

Steamtown....

When we last met, I was talking about my coach and the positive impact he's had on my training....this continues to be true.  

I was told Steamtown Marathon was a great race to qualify for Boston.....I have no idea who started this vicious rumor, but allow me to set the record straight! Steamtown is not where you go for a BQ!   ha ha 
The Steamtown marathon was HARD-very hard!  It's a small race in terms of racers and spectators, but it was well organized and scenic.  You arrive in downtown Scranton (the finish) and board buses to the start.  It was 68 degrees in Scranton and by the time we arrived at the start it was 43 and windy. 43 degrees isn't bad and the wind wasn't bad-what was bad was first feeling the outside air at 68 then feeling the drop.  Marathoners about to start a race have a look about them and this race was missing that....I don't know-everyone seemed less like marathoners and more like people about to run a  5K.   

As I prepared for my race I talked with my coach about my race plan.  In my last marathon I did negative splits and it worked out (in my opinion) really well.   My coach wanted me to pick a pace and stick to it no matter what as this was a "training run" for my "real" race of the season-Philly.   

I picked 8:35 as my pace.  As he said, I was trained and able to run 8:10s, so this pace is doable.  I started my race and was excited to go.  The 1st hill came....downhill.  I thought ok, I knew there were some hills.  As I continued, I watched my watch going quicker and quicker as the down hills kept coming and coming.  I kept thinking, "you need to keep an 8:35" but my splits were 8:08s 7:55s.  As the race started to level out I was able to get my pace and stick to it, for the most part.  I felt comfortable and confident.  I had no idea what that ending held, but at the point I was at, I thought it could be a  BQ for me....especially because my 1st few miles were so quick I kind of banked a little time.  

I know that no matter what you eat before a race you can't have enough food in you to fuel you for an entire marathon.  While I never feel hungry during a race I can tell when I need fuel.  I LOATHE gels....I can do 1 or 2 but that's not exactly enough to keep you going for an entire marathon (tho I try to make it work on that)  By the time I'm done with a marathon my teeth actually hurt from all the sugar in the gels.  People often ask me what I think about when I run a marathon and 1 of the biggest things is fried chicken....I don't know why...Perhaps it's because it's crunchy and salty and the gels are so sweet and so thick you have to chew them.  While I'm mid-race and thinking about fried chicken it's not helping me get another gel in me which is something I really need to work on.    

I continued to race well and then mile 19 happened!  It wasn't anything big, but it was like I ran out of gas and couldn't go....my splits dropped a good 45 seconds at mile 19 and I remember thinking, "all that time you banked in the beginning is slipping away and you need to get back to the 8:35".  Getting back to 8:35s was wishful thinking...my miles just kept getting slower and slower and I got into negative thoughts.  Thinking things like "well you're on 19 you still have 7.2 miles to go"  and "ugh you're still in the teens" "you still have more than a 10K to go" "you're looking at a good hour of running left".  None of these things were helpful and I knew it, but it's hard to be in that situation and stop these thoughts.  I did my best.  I released my BQ hope and reminded myself to just learn from this and remember it's just a training run for Philly.  

When you're running a marathon mile 23 is a nice place to be...you're basically "there".  You think things like, "you have a 5K left...worse case scenario you have to run for 30 more minutes".   I swear I was doing that....until I saw the hill I had to climb.  In races there are hills, sure, but this was unlike any hill I expected.  It was winding and never let up.  It was 3 miles of hills....and this monstrosity was at the end of the race.  My tank was BEYOND empty.   I remember thinking how cruel this hill was and wondering, "am I actually moving up this hill?"  There were times I was going so slowly I thought I would roll down the hill backward.  I won't lie, it was the longest 3 miles of my life.  When I thought we couldn't climb any higher we did ha ha.  I remember some spectator seeing my name on my bib and cheering for me saying, "you look great, Kelly, keep it up" and I turned, looked, and replied, "LIAR!"  ha ha 
At the very top of Everest..I mean some random street in Scranton, I saw runners turning right and I thought, "it's got to be there....the finish is once I turn that corner" so I pushed, but it wasn't there.  It was visible, but not quite there yet.  The finish was down this main street that had this rolling hills that were sucking the life out of me.  I finally saw that blue and red strip on the road that was clocking me in and I proudly hit the stop button on my watch. I had finally finished...exhausted and thankful.  Not even 3 seconds after crossing the finish I was pulled off to the side by a medic.  I didn't think I was hurt, but I must have had a look about me and when he asked me if I was ok I realized I couldn't catch my breath.  They wrapped me in a blanket, gave me water and sat with me.  I was able to catch my breath and left to collect my medal and get my photo taken.  Another marathon in the books....certainly not a BQ and not even a PR, but I was feeling strong and well trained.