Bear with me, this might be a long one.
To start off with, I’m unbelievably psyched about my time. My first marathon was the New York City Marathon in 2007, which I ran in 4:39:00. Fast forward a year and a half, and I smoked that time in the New Jersey marathon. Official chip time: 4:00:34. Barely over four hours. And considering I stopped to pee and transfer my number to my tank top (I wanted to be identified in the pictures…because I am ultra vain and love those low angle thunder-thigh double-chin pictures that every single race photographer manages to capture. Do I really look that sexy when I run?) I am mentally subtracting a minute off my time. I can do that, right???
So onto the whole race report. I will try to update this post with pictures if my mom ever figures out how to get the pictures off her digital camera. So, don’t hold your breath.
On Saturday, my mom and I drove down to Jersey and checked into our sweet room at the Days Inn. Top notch accomodations all the way. We received some vague instructions from the front desk guy on how to get to Long Branch for packet pick-up. Being my naturally disorganized self, I hadn’t written down where all of this was taking place and I don’t have a fancy updated internet phone thingy, so we weren’t really sure where we were going (I totally lied to my mom about this. Told her I forgot the print out with directions. I didn’t want her to be annoyed/disappointed in my lack of preparation). Suffice to say, after driving in the wrong direction for an hour, making a few phone calls to people with computers, and taking an extended tour of some unsavory parts of the Jersey Shore, we managed to track down the hotel where they were holding the number pick up.
Inside the pick-up tent it stank and my mom freaked out at the smell of so many human bodies haha. I persevered, got my number, scored some mini Larabar free samples (yay!!) and we wandered around the boardwalk and drank coffee for a while. For dinner that night I had salad and pasta e fagiole (spelling? who knows and I’m not looking that up). I was worried about eating out at a restaurant before a big race because my stomach can be picky. But this was actually perfect.
We woke up Sunday morning at 5am to a light drizzle. Ugh that was tough when the alarm went off. But I slept like a baby the night before, which was suprising. We managed to get out of the room pretty quickly, get big coffees at Dunkin Donuts, and get to Long Branch early. There was a lot of traffic getting to the shuttle buses which would take us to the start, but finally we were on them and arriving at the starting line. It was lightly raining all morning, but it was very light and I kept thinking it would clear up. I ate 2 bananas and a bagel with peanut butter before the race, stretched a little, and tried to quiet the butterflies in my stomach as I stood in the chute. I stood near the 4:15 pace setter because I thought that maybe I would be able to beat my goal time of 4:20, which I obviously did.
While standing in the chute, the dude in front of me (who’s hairy ass crack was exposed) kept farting. Dude, I understand you’re nervous, but there’s no reason to completely abandon all social propriety. Not cool.
The race was really crowded at the start because a lot of peope were running the half marathon, and the crowding was somewhat annoying. It was also raining lightly and really humid. I quickly stripped down to my tank top, put on my headphones, and tried to get around some of the slower people. I wish they had staggered the chute according to expected finish times so it was less congested at the start. The course was very flat with lots of fluid stations set up. Not too many spectators, but enough to keep your spirits up.
The first 10 miles flew by easily. I kept an eye on my times, trying to keep my pace around 9 minutes the whole time, but assuming that I would eventually slow down. My legs felt really good and strong, my iPod was blasting some great/mildly embarassing jams…. Neil Diamond, Britney, Bon Jovi (when in Jersey…), Dr. Dre, 2 Live Crew… One of my greatest racing fears is that I’ll pass out while blasting some really embarassing song (”Me So Horney” comes to mind) and the medics will just walk away in disgust. I have no idea where this fear comes from. Since those 10 miles were so easy, I kept getting nervous that my legs would start to feel tired and heavy and I would have to slow down alot, which would have been disappointing after having run so well for so long. I especially started to feel this way as I got to the halfway mark, but my legs kept feeling good.
The half way mark was rough. They separated the half marathoners and marathoners, sending the half runners to their finish line as we ran by them to complete our second lap of the course. Some guy I was running next to turned to me and said, “This is so depressing” and I agreed, but reminded him that at least we were half way there. I was again getting nervous about losing steam around mile 15, so I had my first goo and upped my Gatorade intake. At that point some man ran up beside me and said, “You’re slowing down. I’ve been about 50 yards behind you the whole time and now I’ve caught you!” What a great motivator! We kept running together for a couple of miles, but then I knew I could pull ahead and did so, hearing him say, “That is just too fast for me!” Another great motivator was knowing I would be seeing my #1 cheerleader, my mother (who deserves an award for standing out in the rain for so long! Who else would do that but a mom?) for the second time around mile 18 (I also saw her at mile 5), and honestly that really kept my spirits up and motivated me to keep going. Once I saw her, I got a burst of energy and knew I could keep up my pace for another 2 miles.
Once I hit 20, I told myself “One more mile at this fast pace, and then you can slow down.” But at 21, I suddenly realized that coming in at 4 hours was doable, and I knew that there was no way I would slow down for the last 5 measly miles. I ate/slurped another goo, paced myself with a guy who still looked strong, and kept my pace steady. I lost him at about mile 22 or 23 when he slowed down to get water and never picked the pace up again. I barely drank any water for the last few miles because I knew that would slow me down (still haven’t mastered the drink and run) and I didn’t want to waste any precious seconds. The rain, which had been light and steady throughout the entire race, also started to pick up around mile 22 or 23, making the puddles in my shoes even deeper than they had been.
The last five miles were tough and I had to mentally push myself to keep up my pace and not slow down. There were a lot of internal pep talks happening.
The final mile was the hardest of all because it was just straight down the boardwalk, an endless mind fuck of giant hotels and no finish line. But, lo and behold, who suddenly caught my attention screaming “Oh my god, keep going Erin! You’re time is going to be amazing!” My awesome mother, soaking wet, all smiles, screaming her support about half a mile from the finish. That was the fire I needed to spring out the last little bit and push myself to the finish.
It was a great race overall. I had a great time and I hope to do it again next year. The PR didn’t hurt of course!!
Race fall out is that I’m extremely sore and stairs are the devil. I also have some super nasty sports bra chafing (TMI?). I am, naturally, looking forward to a few days off from running. But not too many!
Sorry world!