Recap and Reflection

I've tried to start a post detailing my race at the Trials a couple times now. I only got a few sentences in because it felt so overwhelming. But that was probably for the best. Now that I'm a couple weeks removed from the whole weekend I feel like I have a little more perspective which might make for a more interesting post.

I got to the hotel in downtown LA on the Wednesday before the race. Arriving on Wednesday for a Saturday race was by design because when I booked the tickets I was fully anticipating to be coming from New Hampshire. Adjusting to the time change and weather would have been a much bigger factor coming from the east coast. Alas, our plans changed for the better and Ali and I are in California already, so all we had to do was drive from the SF area to LA. Turns out this wasn't an easy drive. We hit total stop traffic for about 45 minutes but made it in about seven hours total.

The hotel was fancy shmansy. Big time. The lobby was massive with huge ceilings, multiple bars and cafes. I saw all the "big name" runners and coaches starting on Thursday. Shalane, Meb, Galen, Amy Cragg, Desi, Salazar, Ritz, and plenty of others I'm probably forgetting. That was pretty cool.

I was feeling very odd going into the whole thing. I've never gone into a race not expecting to finish and it was weird. In fact, I've never DNF'd in a race in my life, and here I was knowing I would have to DNF several weeks, if not more, ahead of time. It was like going into a test knowing you were unprepared, never bought the book to study from, and there you were on question four and didn't know the answer to anything yet. That was my mental state while I was doing my uniform check on Thursday.

Which reminds me... regarding the injury: I want to be clear that it was 100% brought on by a combination of factors, NONE of which were our actual drive out to California. I don't want people to think that was a factor at all in creating the injury. I clearly felt the pain the night before we left and at the time I was hopeful it wasn't a big deal. That same pain is essentially the same right now, over two months later despite my best efforts to rehab it on my own. Even if the car ride did somehow make it worse, my body had plenty of time to rebound post car ride, and it didn't. No doubt I tweaked it by running and running alone.

(Did that sound defensive?)

(Yeah. Maybe. I think so.)

(Well, it is what it is I guess. I get weirdly frustrated when people are misinformed about this kind of thing.)

(How do I change the vibe of this post now that I've gone off on this rant?)

Cat pics?

This is one of several cute little cats that wander around our neighborhood here in Vallejo

This was at Frog's Leap Winery. My favorite winery we've visited so far. They had a huge garden you could walk around while sippin' your favorite Cabernet. This was taken last weekend (after the race).

Ok, there we go. Feeling better already! Now, on to things that matter. The race.

I woke up on Saturday morning feeling happy. I treated it like any other race morning, listening to horribly awesome pop music and lots of 2009 era Akon and Jason Derulo. Getting breakfast, putting on my shorts, shoes, race number, it was all a familiar process. The difference was that I had greater mental urgency to take it all in. Under normal circumstances, I think I would have missed a lot of the so called "experience" because I would be too hyper focused on myself.

I walked down to the area of the hotel where athletes and their support crews were convening to walk over to the starting area together. It was about a six minute walk. Ali and I walked over there together, which is when I said goodbye and went into the "athlete" area. I couldn't help but feel kindasortaalittlebit cool when I was walking in there.

I had about an hour until the race started so I found a spot in the shade and relaxed. I made sure my shoes were all tied correctly and drank some water. Scanned around the area for other runners I knew. Ate a small gel. I listened to other people's conversations. Sipped on some more water. Exciting stuff, I know. The things that go on in that athlete area-- whew! Thrilling.

Yep. There's the singlet I wore. I couldn't wear my fave Runner's Alley singlet because of USATF restrictions on logo size. Lame. Some people who didn't know about the rules had to literally duct tape over the logos if they were too big

Anticipation grew for the race start. People started to leave the area to warm up and I elected to do a short, say 200 meter jog around the street to wake my legs up a little bit. I was feeling pretty good and the 1000mg of ibuprofen I had taken a couple hours prior was helping my pain level. So much, in fact, that after I took my first few steps of the warmup, I thought the pain was gone entirely. Nah. No such luck. I felt that familiar little twinge of pain and decided to save my running steps for the actual event.

The vibe of the race start was emotionally intense but also super relaxed. I was about 2/3 the way back in the pack among people who were probably 1) Half marathon qualifiers who didn't know their limits in a marathon 2) People who were hurt and/or out of shape or 3) Guys who were respecting the temperature and not wanting to go out fast. This interesting mix of runners made for a pretty chill starting zone. People were chatting with each other and taking it all in.

Once the gun went off my adrenaline shot through the roof. I was suddenly sprinting through the starting line and blown away by the noise coming from the crowd. I strategically placed myself on the right side of the starting line so I'd be able to see my whole support crew. They took some pretty cool photos of me during this initial mad dash.

Swingin' wide around the corner. Not running the tangents 

 The coolness of the start erased any physical pain I might have felt

Knowing I was there solely for the experience of it, I allowed myself to look around and look at the crowd more than I probably ever have during a race. Combine a very casual attitude with an unforgettable moment like this and I couldn't help but smile a little bit. I thought about all I'd done to get here and that made me happy.

I completed the first two-ish mile loop and considered dropping out right then. I was still feeling OK though, and I was still running with a lot of people. So I decided to keep going. I was probably running 5:20 pace through two miles. Ridiculously fast for the level of fitness I was sporting. My heart rate was in the high 180s and hovering at 190 when I glanced at it and never once dipped lower than that during the whole race.

Coming through the first two mile loop. Still running with people but starting to grimace a little bit. The reality of my situation is about to come abundantly clear.

At about 5K, I was toast. My leg was hurting by that point and I thought again about dropping out. The problem with that, logistically, is that I would've needed to walk back the mile or so I just ran. I didn't like that idea so I just kept running. The pain was manageable and I wasn't in dire straights just yet. 

The far end of the first loop was about the five mile mark. At that point I was heading back home anyway, and again, I didn't want to have to walk, so I just kept running. I slowed down, running closer to 6+ minute pace at times trying to conserve myself. There were a few people for me to run with, but not many. Everyone around me was either out of shape or dealing with an injury just like I was. There was a cool camaraderie in that and I appreciated having people around me to share in the agony of it.  

After passing 10k I was gassed. I was finally getting close to the start line again but I was overheating and visibly limping at this point. I ran very heavily with my left leg, trying to protect my injured one as much as possible. Coming back across the starting line I got a little mention over the loudspeaker. The announcer said something about me being from little old New Hampshire which I really loved.

The end of the line for me

I love this picture. Taken just after I stopped running. My ultimate support crew

Finally stopping was a massive relief. I was really hurting and had never pushed this injury quite so hard. I was exhausted and felt like I'd basically ran the whole race. My left leg, having taken the brunt of the effort, was also wrecked. I was relieved to be done with it both physically and mentally.

I watched the rest of the men's and women's races from the sidelines. It was crazy to see how devastated some people were from the heat. I've never done particularly well in the heat, so I probably would've been right there with them had I run the whole thing.

That evening I got to spend a lot of time with my Bucknell friends who also came to support me. Looking back, it was pretty amazing that so many of them made it here from across the country. Awesome friends that I'm so lucky to have.

That about sums up my race. From the runner's perspective, it was a very cool thing to be a part of.

Family selfie sitting in the sun by the hotel pool

Right now my biggest goal is getting healthy. The injury is getting a little better. Right now (two weeks removed from the race) I'm feeling like it's back to it's "pre-race" level of discomfort. I can walk around without a noticeable limp and do most daily tasks without thinking about it very much. The question is when I'll be able to run. I'm looking into doctors around the area here but am inherently skeptical of almost all doctors when it comes to running injuries. I'm also wary of how long that process can take.

My goals beyond getting healthy are unclear. Part of me would love to come back and run the Trials again in four years (assuming I can qualify). But another part of me, now that I'm a little more removed from the weekend is feeling a little less sure about that goal. I don't think getting back to the Trials is as big a priority as I originally thought. Think about it like this-- I've got a finite number of high quality competitive marathons left in my body. Sure, coming back and running well at the Trials again would be cool, but would it be that much better than, say, running London, or Boston, or Chicago, or Berlin? I'm not so sure. Those are awesome marathons too. Consider also middle of the road local marathons like Vermont City, or Manchester, or Hartford, some of which I could conceivably win outright. Also very appealing. Or what about ultras? I could do well there and I know I'd have fun with it. I also might enjoy the ratcheted down level of intensity and shift in focus. Or I could go the other direction completely and focus on half marathon or 10k specific training. Who knows. I guess what I'm saying is there are a lot of choices out there in this sport and I'm not going to limit myself, because it's not necessarily ALL about the olympic marathon trials anymore. It was for a while, but now I'm turning the page. I've hit the big ol' reset button. Once I can run again I'll follow my gut and do what feels right.    

AH