The Top Of Utah Marathon time has arrived yet again. This year Adam (my handsome hubby) had a stress fracture and couldn't participate and I was not pregnant and could so he was the spectator and I was the participant. It was a wierd change of events, but hopefully, both of us are out there kicking trash next year.
Lily could not find a room to rent in Logan. She bunked up with me, Adam, our 20 kids (it felt like) and my super supportive MIL. We had a great trip up with lots of visiting and excitement. We had a delish dinner and was in bed fairly early.
I slept pretty good from 10:30-3:30 when I woke up ready to RUN!
Lily and I went and ate breakfast at the motel where we met and talked to a guy who travels the country doing a different marathon every weekend. Kinda cool, but at the same time, kinda sad and lonely. He was not married and had no kids. Who is there to cheer him on or care? It made me ultra glad I have my friends and family.
On the bus ride up, Lily and I kept thinking this is a long bus ride and we have to run all this way back. That's a wake up call right there now!
We got there and hit the port-a-pots quick like. We made our way down the hill to the tents where we went inside to a super crowded, dark and hot space. I briefly wondered if a concentration camp was anything like this. I could almost feel the disease and germs spreading like wildfire. I grabbed onto Lily's arm so we wouldn't get seperated and tried to find Allie. Lily called out," Allie, where are you?" The girl in front of us turned around and it was Allie. Great, that was easy enough.
We warmed up too much, decided to hit the toilets again before the race started. The line was huge long now, so Lily and I went over the hill. I did my biz, but Lily had stagefright about some young men, so I had to hold my emergency blanket out for her.
We went back down, had our pre race shot blocks and gatorade, and lined up. Lily got to the front of the pack and I stayed back a little so I wouldn't get mowed down by the ultra super fast people.
In line, I was thinking what in the hell have I got myself into? but before I knew it the cannons fired and it was too late to do anything but run.
I quickly latched on to a girl who looked my age wearing a 2010 BOSTON MARATHON QUALIFIER shirt. She seemed to be keeping the pace I wanted to qualify for Boston which was about 7:40 minute miles. I followed her to mile 3 where I had to do a quick pee. I came out and caught up to her again by mile 4. I followed her to mile 10, where I lost her briefly. I will come back to that.
Meanwhile, I was just starting to warm up and feel my lips and nose and fingers. I was feeling so good and the view was spectacular. I continued on this way to mile 10.
At mile 10, I felt a snap of pain across the top of my left foot. Shooting screaming pains continued through to mile 11. I could not believe my luck. At mile 10? I was barely into this race and already something like this happened? I briefly wondered whether I would be one of those poor saps who have to ride back down the canyon on a shuttle. I sucked it up along with some ibuprofen and continued on. The pain became a little less intense by mile 13, where I could see my time was still on par for a Boston qualifying time of 3:40 but I needed to keep it going with no mistakes to do it.
After this, my pace slowed to around 8:30 minute miles. The pain in my foot was so intense, that I could only run about a half mile and then had to walk a few feet, run another half mile, walk again. etc.
I gave myself a good pep talk and picked up the pace again around mile 16. I caught back up to 2010 BOSTON QUALIFIER LADY and stayed there until about mile 20.
I had been so good to stay fueled and hydrated so I never hit that "wall" of tiredness. I didn't feel tired, out of breath, or sick. Just hurt. I continued on the rest of the race this way. Run until the pain was bringing tears to my eyes, then walk a bit, run again. My time slowed to the point that I knew I was not going to make Boston, but I could still do a sub 4 hour if I kept going.
Around mile 21, a cute girl name Tiffany asked if she could run with me. I replied, "Oh would you please?"
She had hit a mental wall and just needed someone to talk her through, I just needed someone to take my mind off my throbbbing foot. We hobbled on through the next five miles.
We turned the corner to the finish and poor Tiffany broke down into tears. I broke into a smile to see my family there and that I had made it under 4 hours with a time of 3:55. I wanted that 3:40 but considering that I had to run 16 miles with a super hurt foot, I thought it wasn't bad.
We did the obligatory after race pictures and visiting and got in the suburban to head home. I took my shoe off. My foot was swollen and black and blue. I couldn't get my shoe back on again.
Sunday, I could barely put weight on it to walk around the house.
Monday, I am not even sore anywhere else, not my quads, calves, bottoms of my feets, nothing. Just this foot. It may be broken. I now feel a huge need to run another marathon soon without the broken foot to see what my time could have been. I must have been pretty prepared for it considering that the rest of my body is not sore. NEXT time, Boston will be mine. | 