training for the BSR has taken on whole new meaning- gone are the days when i was simply responsible for making sure i could run ten miles. and gone are the days when i was simply responsible for making sure i could run ten miles... fast. this year i was forced to be positive i 1. wasn't hurt... and 2. improved my pace. i want my 7:30 mile pace back. i slowed way down for the 26.2 just to train for it, so now that i'm in recovery mode, i need to rebound with a spring (or two) in my step.
the start of the race on sunday began in the south eastern part of Cape May, and about 75% of all runners at the start had yellow tags- which meant they were doing the 10 miler. the marathoners wore a white tag. there were few of us in it for the (pardon the pun) long run. i did not hear the gun go off because i was already jamming the the alkaline trio during the national anthem, and i had positioned myself somewhere near the back of the pack. i was polite and let the ten milers in front of me because let's be honest- i was in no real hurry.
once everyone started moving, my stride was strong, even, and very sure. i slowly trod amongst what i thought was the back of the pack, but would later find out to be in the top third of all competitors. so north we went- there were many spectators downtown Cape May- I passed the Wawa, desperately wanting a sandwich, I passed all the places my cousins and I would play as kids, I passed the Lobster Trap and up over the drawbridge and we were off. i was intentionally running very slow, saving myself. not for later. because i knew my energy would never be higher than it was here. 44 minutes at the 5 mile. normally this is a 39 minute time for me.
once we got to mile ten, we were on the wildwood boardwalk. what a shit hole. all that aside, most of us were finishing our ten mile journey for the day. the yellow tags parted ways, and ran through the chute on the left side of the course. white tags to the right as we waved so long to our fellow distance runners, and the pack thinned way down amidst all the clapping and cheering going on at the 10 mile finish. the clock was now 1 hour and 28 minutes. over 8 minutes passed my 1:20 ten mile time.
we ran through another town and over another bridge around the 13.1 gate- it is here where i caught up to a fellow lover of teal tank tops, and we pressed on at 1:54. ten minutes over my half marathon record of 1:44. she pushed me, i pushed her. i wasn't trying to pass her, but pick up her pace because i could tell she had way more experience than me. turns out, she thought the same of me, and kept going faster and faster because she thought she was slowing! we stayed together after this, silently running side by side through towns I have never been to before- Wildwood, Avalon, Stone Harbor, Sea Isle... none of these are places i find to be particularly nice and I was happy to be running through them and out of them and not having to stay there.
after the halfway point, every few miles there were aid stations that provided me with enough supplies to ensure that i become completely sticky all over my face, hands, arms, shirt, etc. gatorade, energy gels, bananas, oranges, snack bars, energy chews. my dad told me only to grab the gatorade, gels, and the oranges. all other things are too solid and will take too much energy for my body to digest while running.
at mile 15, i told myself that i have eleven miles left. most people can't even run eleven miles. and i only had eleven left. my buddy in teal and i were still matching eachother in stride while other runners were beginning to walk. there was much walking going on. but not us. still running.
mile 18 was the point of no return. only 8 miles left- home stretch here. mile 20 came the wall. not just for me. but for my partner and for everyone else as well. i stopped for every orange and every shot of gatorade i could get my hands on. in the last six miles, i was snatching for bananas as well... i could feel the lactic acid in my quads and nowhere else. nothing hurt. my knees felt great- my hips were amazing, no cramping, nothing stiff- feet felt awesome at home in their asics. but it was what it was- my liver was out of glycogen and my leg muscles were needing more. we started to pass more people who had taken to walking. after 22 miles, i entered unfamiliar territory. i have never run further than mile 22 before. and i sure as hell wasn't going to stop now.
still running. there was one more bridge, and we scooted over it at what seemed like 2 miles per hour. everything was in slow motion and every mile seemed like 3. before we knew it we were back on the beach and shuffling through the last half mile. i could see the big white finish banner and the crowd. there weren't many runners near me- in front of me or behind me aside for the woman in teal. the pack was very thin and emotions were running high. the spectators stood on the course very quietly and solemnly craning their necks, biting fingernails and wringing hands holding their breath waiting for loved ones- hoping all is alright. i flew through the finish line strong just after the 4 hour mark. my splits were just above 9 minutes. i ran 45k with faster splits than many people run 5k. so that was my feat. not the distance. anyone can walk a marathon. i've ran/walked it 4 times prior. my running buddy and i high fived on the other side of the chute once we ripped off our tags and exchanged thoughts and feelings. we laughed, we cried, i grabbed my bag, and dad drove me home. i thought we were part of the last group of finishers but turns out we were some of the quicker ones.
i have to take a minute off my time to qualify for Boston. i have to take two minutes off my time to be happy after Broad Street this year. and i will. :-)
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