What a day. The marathon is mean and nasty and will knock you to your knees. I *never* have issues with going too fast early, but today I had a huge positive split- 71:23 through 1/2, so 76 mid the second half. I had talked with some of the elites beforehand and planned to go with them at 5:35ish pace. We did that but by about 4 miles I was pulling them behind me. Pretty soon they got further away. I would have been fine to have their company- they were dropping themselves, I thought. I took GU at miles 7 and 13, exactly as planned. At that pace and at that time, it was easy. I do feel bad because I also took water and later in the race, some Gatorade. As I’ve never run a marathon, I don’t remember the last time I took a cup. Each time I’d totally splash the volunteer. Sorry. I was excited to get on the towpath trail at mile 13. It was really nice and pretty. I was content that my splits were staying under 5:30 even on the soft, windy surface. Previously I had been having one of those times where you’re shocked at your pace each split as my times were quite fast. One thing that bothered me is that even though I was going fast, I would hear people cheer for me and then not long after cheer for someone else. So the uphill on sand run parkway was worse than I expected. There were some steep hills and a lot of minor ones. I was slogging along but I assumed it was just the hill. Then I got to the top and I started feeling tired. When I saw I had run 2 miles in 12 minutes I audibly reacted. First I got passed by a relay runner, then came one of the marathon guys. I started having a really hard time. I had flashes of cramps in my inner thighs, but mostly it was the calves. They were scorching me. It wasn’t a bad mentality, there was nothing I could do but hang on. I was a sinking ship heading to shore. The last 4-5 miles were the worst. My eyes opened and shut. I kept being surprised I didn’t get passed by more people and began to hope I might still win prize money. But I was going so slow. I crossed the finish line and immediately was taken in a wheelchair to the medical tent. I was semi-conscious. Just pretty dead. They said my blood pressure was 110/30. I’ve never heard of diastolic being that low. I took two gatorades bottles in the next half hour despite them upsetting my stomach. When I tried to move my legs I got major Charlie horses in my thighs at first. Prior to awards I put down a bagel, sports drink, yogurt, some chocolate milk, and a little smoothie bowl too. I had been starting to crave food towards the end of the race and this stuff tasted good despite by stomach ache. The last few miles I told myself I’d never do a marathon again. One guy I befriended tried to convince me otherwise. There are definitely things I’m not willing to do to succeed at this distance but if I could keep some glucose in my body I think I’d actually have a good ceiling. Regardless I’ve been quite humbled.
Splits. Some represent more than one mile:
11:08, 5:36, 5:35, 16:36, 5:08, 5:14, 5:25, 5:21, 5:25, 5:13, 5:24, 5:22, 5:27, 5:39, 5:34, 12:02, 5:48, 5:56, 6:07, 19:54.
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