Road trippin it to crazy

I never minded long trips as a kid. At least that's MY memory of it. My parents and siblings would probably say differently.  I knew the destination and the fun that lie ahead so I was okay with the miles, the bathroom/gas stops and annoying siblings. I was probably the annoying one!  The build up to the camping trip or California was an exciting time.  School days dragged on for what seemed like forever.  But when the time came, it was pure joy.

With a week to go before my marathon, I began prepping for the big day. The training was done and it was now "Go Time"  Time to believe in the run. Trust the training. Yet, the doubts crept in. I blame the taper.

How does one mentally prepare for 26.2 miles? The farthest I'd run was 20 miles, and I almost didn't even get that far.  Close enough some say. You don't want to put undo stress on your body or risk injury.  I probably could have gone to 22 or even 24. Would it have mattered? Probably not. Unless you've run the whole distance it's hard to know how to REALLY prepare. When race day comes, there are too many variables.

All week I drank my water, ate my food  yada yada yada.  I had it all figured out. Even my "cycle" was on board beforehand to remove that from race day stress.. Or so I thought.  I had experienced the challenge during my first and only triathlon and it was in fact a stressful time, not to mention quite the energy zapper. But I finished. And as you know, I will never do another.

We arrived to our hotel on Friday evening and then headed downtown to the expo for packet pickup. After a ton of traffic and a slight detour thanks to Siri, we were in the heart of downtown Denver. I usually don't linger at expos BUT I  really wanted to go check out InkNburn. I REALLY needed some arm sleeves. NEEDED them since it was cold. I had a light long sleeve shirt I had planned on wearing but I knew it would warm up and didn't want to just throw it. So the 4arms were a necessity.  Plus they have some really cool shit that you don't see everywhere. PLUS they had a limited edition Denver bag that I wanted. PLUS, it was free with purchase.

Saturday we took the light rail back to downtown to check out the zombie crawl and to grab some lunch. It was a great day walking around 16th street mall with my husband, daughter, son in law and grandson. They had taken time off of work to come cheer me on. I was so grateful to have them there. My son stayed behind to dog and house sit and I missed him there. We headed back to the hotel, had dinner and I got my gear all ready and called it a night.

As with other races, I woke up every hour looking at the clock. I had set an alarm but feared I would sleep through it.  I didn't.  I woke up at around 4:30 and had my normal pre race meal. Half English muffin with almond butter, bananas and honey and a shot of espresso. I made my way to the bathroom a few times before we left the hotel and almost missed the light rail. I didn't want to mess with the lines at the porta potties so I thought I would go again.Yikes.

Tailwind was mixed and ready in my handheld. I sipped on that to the start line, then dumped what was left in the Mazama. A few days before, I decided to use my Mazama hydration waist pack with Tailwind as I wasn't sure I would be comfortable with the handheld for 26+ miles

Made it to the start and ran a little to warm up. Did some stretching and then made my way through the crowds to my corral. Number 12. The previous Rock n Roll series in Arizona I had participated in the events were separated. Half marathon and Marathon starts were in separate locations. This event everyone was corralled together. We were squished pretty tight in there. A few elbows in my face and stepped on toes I was NOT a happy camper. It seemed like forever. And then my time had come.

The first couple of strides were awkward. I hadn't run with the hydration pack in a while and it felt heavy on my back. I thought about ditching it, but I knew I just needed to get used to it. My hydration and fuel were in this pack. I was depending on it. I couldn't ditch it.  Silly me.  I had to keep reminding myself to calm down and "conserve". I didn't feel like I was going too fast, I just didn't feel like I was going slow enough. A weird feeling. For the other races, I knew I could push myself a bit without feeling like I was compromising anything. This was my first 26.2 however. I could not afford a breakdown or hitting a wall. Conserve I said, conserve. So, I tried my best. At the 5k mark I was at 31 minutes. Pretty good I told myself. Conserve. Conserve. Conserve. Then right before the 10k mark I had to use the porta potty. A few people in line ahead and all I could do was wait. Tick tock. I was a little over the hour mark at that point. Conserve. Conserve. No TP in the porta potty. Damn. Too early to sacrifice a sock I thought. It was at that time I realized that I was spotting. Yep. That and my hydration pack was leaking all over my back and butt. Any smart girl would have brought along the necessary equipment, but I thought I was in the clear. Guess not. It wasn't enough to have me that worried at that point so I pulled up my big girl panties and went on my way.

The course had me all over the place in and around downtown. Weather had warmed up just a bit with a cool breeze here and there. At mile 9 I saw my husband holding his phone waiting to capture me running by.  Only he missed me.  I literally started hollering and waving my arms like a mad woman to get his attention and he was distracted by what I found out later was one person on the course accusing another person of cheating. There was a bridge with a slight incline and this person went to the flat part of the bridge on the pedestrian walk instead of the course. Any-who.  He ran ahead of me to grab this shot.

Taking in the sights and cheers of the course was a nice distraction. But somewhere around mile 11 my mind was on aunt flow (sorry guys) Another stop at the porta potty which was located next to one of the medical tents. Just in case.I wondered if they would have feminine hygiene products. Oh dear! Once again, I pressed on. My pace slowed and I was now running alongside a man. We ran together for a while around the park and had a nice chat. I asked how he was. He said his legs were lacking energy and felt heavy. We slowed to walk and chatted a bit more finally exchanging names and then I continued on ahead of him wishing each other well as we separated. Somewhere around mile 16 my stomach started complaining. Not from lack of fuel. It was AN-GRY. With no porta potty in sight I hopped into a local coffee shop and high tailed it to the bathroom. Minutes later I was back on the course singing "On the road again. I can't wait to get on the road again"

I had no idea that I would get to see my family a few miles after that. There at mile 18 was my hubby, daughter, son in law and grandson. I was beyond emotional. I tried my best to keep in together but tears were welling up in my eyes as I hugged everyone. I hated to leave them, but I was not done. I took off and my grandson was running behind me. It was exactly what I needed at that moment.

A few minutes later I caught up with Roger. "I thought you were way ahead of me" he said. I replied, "I had a bit of tummy trouble"  He responded, "Are you feeling better?" I said "Yes, I am" I asked how he was. He said, "I run when I can run but I'm walking a lot" So, I walked a while with him. We talked about how cruel it was that we could hear the finish line cheering at that mile marker. 21. He asked how I was feeling. I told him my quads were screaming at me. He said, "They hate you" AMEN.  Haha.  He said, "Jog with me"  We continued at a pretty slow pace. Walking and jogging alternately.  Then when he stopped to walk he said, "Finish strong" and I continued on ahead of him.

Miles 22,23 and 24 were around a few lakes.  Beautiful scenery as the leaves were bursting with color and the ducks were quacking and waddling around. Around the park there were several people who had stopped. Shaking out legs, stretching. Broken.  I felt a tremendous amount of sympathy for them. I was fortunate. I felt tired, sure. My quads were on fire. I was chugging along like the little engine that could. But I was good. My only fuel had been Tailwind in my leaky pack and a few cups of water. I had to spit once when the gunk was too much in the back of my throat, but overall I felt good.


When I got to mile 25 I wasn't sure how I felt. Much like the road trips I took as a kid I was excited that the destination was now within reach. The joy was around the corner. The miles were done. Yet, the fact that it was over was bittersweet. Just ahead I could hear the cheers of the crowd and then really, really loud screaming. A scream I knew. It was my daughter. "Yeah MOM!!, WOOHOO!!" I was overcome with emotion. I could feel my eyes tearing. At that exact moment, my grandson escaped through the gap in the barricade and ran to me. I grabbed his hand and we ran to the finish. As we approached the finish, my name was announced. I wanted to cry, but how could I?1 Instead I laughed. I smiled. I had finished what I set out to do. The destination was the reward, but the true reward was the journey. And oh what a journey it had been. Official time 5:06:08.