The New Normal

Me: This is never going away. I’m never going to get back to where I was. I can’t even go on a 30-minute test run right now without being in pain afterwards.

PT: Not with that attitude you won’t. Look. It took a long time to get to this stage of your injury; why would you think you’d get better in 4 weeks?

Then he gave me tough love about having perspective and asked me if I’d like to meet one of his patients who’s going through therapy for a broken neck.

I know. I KNOW. I’m not being rational. But we grasp to what’s familiar. Familiar to me is was running.

It has been 12 weeks since Philly.
I have been on my PT program for 5 of those 12 weeks.

I had a moment of hope last week, where I went a stretch of 3-4 days feeling REALLY good, with pain almost completely gone on one side and back pain virtually nonexistent. But I seemed to have taken a step back this past week.

PT: It’s a bummer because you felt you were making some good progress before [this week].
.

This shit is taking forever to heal. The progress is slow and the light at the end of the tunnel is dim, at least this week.

So I’m learning a new normal. I’ve had to make some tremendous lifestyle adjustments because I’m no longer running 50 and 60 mile weeks, and won’t be for the foreseeable future. And, unlike my femur injury, when I was unemployed and had all the time in the world to work out all day every day…I’m now juggling 2 jobs, and I don’t have a plethora of time anymore.

I’m no longer grasping to my 2016 fitness for dear life. I’m not spending hours upon hours on cardio machines, dreaming of my next marathon. I’m not plotting my return to run schedule, and counting down the weeks until I can run again.

Instead, I’m trying to chill out and learn to live differently.

Training
I lift 2-3x/week (a program prescribed and closely monitored by my PT), and I supplement it 3-4x/week with circuits of cardiac output exercises, where I aim to keep my HR in a certain zone for 45-65 minutes. Sometimes, if I’m feeling fancy, I’ll do cardiac output for 90 minutes.

Exercises include:
jumprope, rope slams, heavy kettlebell carries, agility ladder movements, skips, marches, jumping jacks, bear crawls, medball slams, plank holds, etc.

On days when I’m craving mindless activity, I’ll either head to the elliptical OR I’ll walk on the TrueForm with a 30-lb. weighted vest on. Sometimes you just gotta not think about anything and listen to music, you know? I’d like to incorporate aqua jogging, but the pool schedule hasn’t been congruent with mine. And, sadly, yoga bothers it, otherwise, I’d be doing that a lot.

I have been approved to go for short runs on the TrueForm. I’ve gotten to 20-25 minutes without pain. The 25-minute barrier has been difficult for me to break without taking a step backwards. Discouraging.

The good news? Despite being injured, I’m still able to notice changes in my cardiovascular health. When I started doing cardio again after taking a majority of December off, my HR an easy day looked like this:

Yellow = too high. We’re looking for green and blue here.

 

Nowadays, my HR graphs are looking a little more like this (with the same effort output):

Mitochondria, get at me.

 

Nutrition
Aside from training differences, nutrition has obviously been the biggest change during this injury. Quite simply: I can’t eat everything in sight anymore.

I’m a picker and I really enjoy food: I love just grabbing what’s in front of me and eating it without a thought. But now, I’ve got to be smarter than that.

To be honest, I’ve always eaten pretty well; so avoiding snacks and sticking with wholesome foods has kept my weight pretty much the same as it was while running, with the obvious slight 2-3 lb. change on a day to day basis.

Tracking my food has helped keep things in line. It’s also reminded me that I do a terrible job of eating vegetables and eat a little too much fat. 🙂

Recent changes in my nutrition:
Eating much more protein for breakfast, like greek yogurt with fruit, or a shake with both whey and collagen protein mixed in…less wine…less desserts…roasting trays of vegetables Sunday nights and immediately going to those when I come home ravenous from work…less cheese.

Yeah. None of those things is really mind-blowing, I know. But the little things make a difference. I hope to go on the InBody machine this week to get a handle on my current muscle mass and body fat percentage. I’m actually excited to see how much muscle mass I’ve gained since beginning this strength program.

Blood Levels
My Inside Tracker results have always been pretty decent, but I was curious about what things would look like after an extended period of time off from training. I also was curious about my Vitamin D levels since I’ve now been supplementing with VitD for the better half of a year.

Well guess who’s no longer deficient in Vitamin D, suckas?!

For all those wondering: the red was right when I hurt my femur. Blood don’t lie, eh?

 

And in other (great) news, my ferritin has skyrocketed:

This is WITHOUT supplementation

 

 

And, while I know cortisol is something that varies a lot throughout the day, I think this graph speaks for itself:

And guess what else has improved? My GI issues… 

 

But not all of my blood levels were rainbows and roses (though, nothing was really alarming). As expected, my hemoglobin has plummeted to an all-time low. Not surprising: Inside Tracker has informed me that, “there is a correlation between low hemoglobin and lower VO2 max, an indicator of endurance capacity, and of physical fitness.” Awesome.

RIP Fitness

 

Sleep
I’ve mentioned before that sleep is my kryptonite. Generally, when I’m training, I find I need close to 9-10 hours of sleep every night. Now that I’m not training? I can function pretty damn well with 7, and I naturally wake up after 8. Before, I would have been completely nonfunctional with 7.

The double-edged sword, however, is that my motivation to take care of myself and go to sleep earlier is lower. I no longer have the excited anticipation (read: scared shitlessness) of waking up to a massive speed workout. So when it gets to be 11..12..1 AM…I feel guilty that I’m up so late, but I also know it doesn’t really matter much in a training sense. Bad, I know. I’m working on it.

More time on my hands
This really only applies to weekends and maybe one day during the work week. I’m now sufficiently invested in my current “fitness” routine that I still find myself working out 60-90 minutes per day during the workweek.

I don’t like not following a training plan; I’m just extremely type-A, and I like being told what to do (even coaches need coaches). Because my recovery has been monitored by my PT, I have been planning my workout weeks myself…which means it’s also been easy to not adhere to them. As of February 1st, I’ve been consistent with 6x/week of workouts. It’s the little things that make me happy these days. 🙂

James and I have an open line of communication about my recovery process, and he’s helped me immensely from a holistic approach with my running/life: he’s helped me get my shit together with nutrition as well as sleep. He has begun to program in interval-type XT work, which I’m appreciative of, because I would never prescribe that for myself, merely because I tend to gravitate towards other things.

Without a marathon training plan, I’m finding that I’m doing a better job of tuning into what my body wants. And I’m not resenting a day that deviates away from what I had intended to do on a particular day.

In fact, I’m currently riding a “I’m so proud of myself” high because yesterday, my hamstrings were feeling really crappy, but I was “supposed” to do one of my strength/PT days. Do I bag it? Do I rest? Do I move?  –I chose the latter. I didn’t do the assigned PT program, but I did move around my gym for 40 minutes and actually felt better afterwards. Go figure listening to your body is important.

Feeling of empty
I suppose I could take my PT up on his offer to meet his patient with a broken neck. My trips on the merry-go-round of self-flagellation seem to increase in frequency when I experience FOMO from watching others train for Boston. Running has turned into a lifestyle for me, inclusive of social events. I’m very thankful for friends who have insisted in meeting up and doing things that AREN’T running. Who knew that the key to my heart is actually just a good glass of cabernet, a long walk, and a manicure/pedicure date?

A couple friends have offered to go on my 20 minute runs with me. That kinda just makes me sad, because it’ll end really fast, and I’ll only feel bad about myself when said friend continues on to run for another 50 minutes. I’m being realistic, not pessimistic. I’m also slightly terrified of not running on the TrueForm right now, since it’s been such a great rehab tool and running outside has only seemed to hurt me.

At my last PT appointment, I was told that if, at the end of 12 weeks, things still aren’t feeling good…he wouldn’t blame me if I just said “fuck it” and started running again. Remember: this injury hasn’t hurt me while running–only after–which is why I was able to continue to train (damage?) on it for as long as I could. I don’t know if his validation is a good or bad thing, but I’m hoping things won’t get to that point. He said I do need to make a legitimate attempt to go through a thorough 12-week therapy regimen, which I’ve honestly doing. And, it would be remiss of me not to mention that I HAVE seen a little progress.

I have contacted my doctor regarding PRP injections. Based on the research, I’m hopeful they will help, even though the recovery from the injections also seems long and daunting.

Things are just a waiting game right now. A recovery game, if you will. One of my closest friends told me that while 2016 might have been about my own PRs and breakthrough races, it’s okay that 2017 isn’t going to be that way. And she’s right. 2017 is going to be about the PRs and successful races of every single person I coach. Putting my injury in that light makes me feel happy. It’s difficult to describe the feeling of an athlete texting you after their race with good news. I don’t think it will ever get old.

So while the old normal was me uttering, “oh my god,” every time I saw a marathon finish line…the new normal is me exclaiming, “oh my god” into my phone when I hear about a successful workout or race. Running in my life isn’t gone right now, thankfully…it’s just different. Perspective is everything.

Buffalo

I wasn’t going to write about Buffalo. I was going to pretend it just didn’t happen and move along with life and recovery and training. But I changed my mind a few weeks ago, when I started this post. Now I’ve let more than a month elapse since the marathon (and since starting this post). I’ve let most of my resentment go from that day, but I still want to write about it. Now I have a little more perspective and my mentality going into the run.

This is your one and only warning: buckle down for a long, emotional post, providing myself with some much-needed catharsis…and providing the 2 or 3 of you who read this whole thing: a look into the unraveling of my 7th marathon.

—

Directly following the race, I was really upset. Someone said to me the week before Buffalo that “you just don’t get a second chance at the playoffs. Why are you running another marathon so close to Boston??” I was pissed at him for saying that, but he was right. I was trying to squeeze something out of my training and my body that just wasn’t there. My fitness might have been…okay…but my head was on a different planet, and I completely underestimated how mentally grueling running a marathon is–so much that I found myself at mile 22 in the middle of Buffalo saying out loud, “wow, I’m actually running this thing, aren’t I?

Yeah. It’s not really a great idea to realize you’re running a marathon AT MILE 22 when traditionally that last 10k is where you’re supposed to grind it out and pour your heart into the run.

I ran a lot of this marathon as though I was carrying a white flag. I gave up. The effort was over…I had nothing left to give. “You expected it to end this way anyway, remember?” the demons said in my head.

The biggest issue I had was that I signed up for all the wrong reasons. I thought I “should have” PRed by more in Boston. I guess you can say I was greedy; but the proof was in my training and the data was there – it was there all winter long. Of COURSE I wanted more. The big PR would’ve happened in Boston if it wasn’t so damn hot.

So my motivation behind Buffalo was simple. I wanted to run another marathon this spring because when the dust settled from Boston, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach with regret. I got back to work and normal life…and couldn’t help but remember all the workouts, runs, and breakthroughs I had going into Boston. A 3:06 was so dissatisfying when I considered all of the training and proof that suggested a completely different outcome.

But the dissatisfaction wasn’t enough to run an entire new marathon. I was missing the deep-rooted drive to run another PR in Buffalo. Sure, I wanted to do well. I was fine with the idea of training for another 5 weeks after Boston. But when you run a marathon…you need to fight for it. And I just wasn’t there this time, not entirely. 

And that’s what made me most upset immediately following Buffalo.  Not because of my finish time. Not because of how I placed. Not because the weather was shitty…again. I was upset because I didn’t fight for it.

I even went into the run with a shitty mentality. I said if I felt tired, I’d DNF. I gave myself an out before even crossing the starting line. That’s the WORST thing you can do going into a race, especially a marathon.

And the worst part is that the option to not run Buffalo didn’t even really cross my mind. I put myself into this damned if I do, damned if I don’t situation. To not run Buffalo meant I’d be settling for the 3:06 at Boston.

I needed to at least TRY. I was too stubborn not to.

—

The Training
The training between Boston and Buffalo was actually great. I took 2 weeks of easy easy running/XT, then had 6 key maintenance workouts leading up to the marathon.

	Workout 1	Workout 2	Long Run	WKLY MILEAGE
Week 1	3 x 1.5 mile	7 miles @ marathon	14	48
Week 2	4 x 2 miles	10 miles @ marathon	(workout 2 was LR)	61
Week 3	12 x 400 w/ rest at pace	3 x 2 miles @ marathon	10	45
Week 4	5 x 4 minutes @ threshold	n/a	n/a	32

4×2 mile, in a park – not on a track. Probably my fastest workout this season, even faster than pre-Boston.

My legs went from feeling incredible…to absolutely terrible…to pretty decent, all in a span of 4 weeks. It was an emotional rollercoaster. I also was dealing with an extremely irritated high hamstring and hip, which made me completely question the even thought of doing the marathon at all, especially when pain started searing into my lower back and SI Joint week 3. Luckily, after consulting an orthopedist and with the mileage reduction of taper, by the time I got to the marathon, I had very little pain going into the race.

—

The Race
I knew going for sub-3 in Buffalo would be foolish. Not only was the spark not there…but my hamstring issue concerned me. The hamstring was never something that bothered me while running, but I experienced a lot of irritation post-running, so I didn’t know what a marathon might do to it.

And the long runs and workouts after Boston just felt crappy. I was hitting my paces, but nothing felt good or easy, as it did before Boston.

Because of these two factors, I thought 3:01-02 would be an acceptable goal for Buffalo..but THEN when I heard it was going to be 80° and humid, I decided anywhere around 3:04 would be a fine goal. The plan was to be much more conservative than Boston – starting around a 7:00-05 and whittling down once I got to the halfway mark.

It was also necessary to devise a plan for the heat. Thankfully, Gabe came with me to Buffalo, and he agreed to be my own personal support crew around the city. So we rented him a bike and loaded him up with a backpack of ice-soaked washcloths, water bottles, electrolytes and extra nutrition. Because the race has so many out-and-backs around the city, we determined about 6 different places that he’d meet me and offer support if I needed it.

Rented bike = so clutch

One of us was excited about driving 6 hours to Buffalo. One of us was not.

In addition to Gabe’s help, the city of Buffalo went above and beyond to keep runners cool, adding extra aid stations and tons of extra ice-soaked washcloths, especially towards the backend of the marathon. I can’t say enough great things about this marathon and the way it was organized. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Miles 1-3: 6:59, 7:03, 7:02
It was humid. Like REALLY humid. A reading of 85% humidity to be exact. I tried to not let it bother me and appreciate that it was only 70° at 6:30 AM…but it was humid. The pace in these beginning miles felt really easy, which was encouraging, but I saw Gabe at mile 2 and he said that I (and everyone around me) was already completely soaked with sweat.

I took my first gel with water pretty early, 30 minutes in, because I knew nutrition was going to be an issue today.

Miles 4-6: 7:07, 7:05, 7:01
These miles just clicked by and this pace felt really great. We passed through downtown Buffalo again and I was hanging with a group of 3-4 guys, most of whom were running the half. It was really great to have company, and my stride matched up really well with one of the guys in particular…didn’t even get his name, but I was REALLY thankful for his company. We ended up distancing ourselves from the other pack we had started with, and clicked through several miles together, chatting the entire time. Turns out he was 19 years old, from Wisconsin, on the track team in college, and running his first half marathon as a training run.

Miles 7-9: 6:59, 6:57, 7:02
These were all run with my new Wisconsin friend. This felt SUPER relaxed and really easy, which made me optimistic. We were also running along Lake Erie, so while it was still really humid, the course was pretty shaded.

I took more nutrition and it went down really well. Everything so far was according to plan.

Unfortunately, my new friend started running 6:50-40s around mile 9, so I let him go. I had no business running that fast that early.

As I let Wisconsin boy go, I started running alongside someone else, whose name I didn’t catch either. He said something about his goal being 3:10 and it freaked me out because I wanted to be well under 3:10. I looked down and saw we were, at that moment, around a 7:10-15, so I picked it up a bit and dropped him. In hindsight, I probably should have just hung with him for a couple of miles, but I had no idea how poorly the rest of the race was going to go.

Mah new fraaand

Miles 10-11
I saw Gabe just before mile 10 and a few things happened –

1: I peed my pants for the first time in the race and it felt AWESOME.

2: Gabe shouted to me that I looked really great and smooth…and I felt that way too. I remembered that mile 10 was when shit started hitting the fan in Boston. And today, in Buffalo, I was floating along, still REALLY happy with how things were going.

3: He also told me that the humidity had broken a little. Which meant, looking back at the weather archives from that day, means it dropped from 85% to 78%. Awesome. But in the moment, hearing that was mildly exciting. I was SOAKED from sweat and from dumping water over my head, but I still felt okay, so I pushed on.

Miles 10-11 is also the only out-and-back where you see runners passing each other, so I used this as an opportunity to count what place I was running over all women. Half marathoners were wearing a red bib and marathoners were wearing blue bibs…so I counted myself in 7th(ish?) place.

“Ok,” I thought. “There is money for 5th place. You can work your way up there. Just keep your shit together.”

Miles 12-13: 7:02, 7:09
These miles were lonely and through a sketchy part of town. Running suddenly didn’t feel so easy, as this is also where a small but steady incline began. I hit the halfway around 1:33, which was the plan, but out of nowhere, my quads and legs felt heavy and fatigued. Shit. It’s only halfway. This isn’t supposed to happen this way.

Miles 14-15: 7:06, 7:10
This course is pretty forgiving, but these miles were evil. Just after the halfway point, the half marathoners turn left to finish…and the marathoners turn right to climb up a hill…and it was definitely a soul-sucking hill.

I thought to myself, “just get up this hill and settle back down,” but once I got over the hill at 13, I found myself wiped out. Shit.

Then, suddenly, at mile 15, I started feeling a shooting cramp in my calf/ankle. “STRESS FRACTURE.” I dramatically whimpered.

So sometimes I have really tweaky Achilles (plural), and from time to time, they REALLY act up, usually because of increased mileage. The pain goes away within 24-48 hours. But of course, in the 2-3 days leading up to Buffalo, my right Achilles and calf started getting that familiar tweaky, tight feeling for no reason at all. I was tapering, so it seemed really weird that it was happening with the decreased mileage, but in hindsight, I’m pretty sure it was because of that jacked up hamstring, wreaking havoc on the entire right side of my body.

Anywho. Back to the stress fracture/cramp/Achilles issue.

It wasn’t so bad that it was altering my stride – yet – but I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Luckily, I saw Gabe in these miles, who was armed with some homeopathic runners cramp pills that were in our Boston goody bags. Yeah, yeah…I know you’re not supposed to try anything new on race day, but I was desperate. I popped the cramp pills and over the course of the next mile, the stabbing pain in my ankle started to subside. Whether it was in my head or maybe they really helped…the world will never know.

Crisis diverted. God bless the homeopathic cramp pills!

Mile 16: 6:58
Just after mile 15 and into the 16th mile, I passed the 6th place girl. I had been behind her watching her run for a few miles. And FINALLY, I saw her slow down and I bounced past her.

I hadn’t felt great for about 3 miles, but thought maybe things were starting to turn around. I reminded myself about an interview I had recently read about Shalane’s Olympic Trials marathon, where she admitted that there are a LOT of ups and down in a marathon…it’s inevitable that the whole race won’t feel magical. “You’re fine. You just hit a low point and now you’re back into it,” I convinced myself.

Mile 17: 7:04
Yeah…no. It wasn’t a second wind. Or maybe it was…maybe I just succumbed to the self-doubt inside my head that was screaming at me saying: “you can’t.”

But here is where things started to go downhill.

Instead of fighting that little voice, I started listening to it and started feeling sorry for myself. As a runner who prides herself on mental tenacity and grit…this is where I let myself down, and this is why I was so upset after the race.

I didn’t feel great at mile 17, but I also didn’t feel THAT bad. Yet instead of paying attention to the pace and running a smart marathon, I just ran like a novice marathoner. I started feeling sorry for myself in this particular mile because it was completely unshaded and really freaking hot.

Looking back at the photos, I laugh, because I looked like a wet rat running around in a bikini. There was nothing strong or athletic about the way I felt. I let myself play into the, “OMG IT’S GOING TO BE SO HOT TODAY, HOW ARE YOU RUNNING A MARATHON?!” hype…so here, when things started getting hot, I didn’t exhibit my best self, and I regret that.

Epitome of wet rat.

Mile 18: 7:16
IT’S SO HOT, LOOK AT ME, SPECTATORS. I’M RUNNING A MARATHON IN THIS HEAT. DON’T YOU FEEL BAD FOR ME?!? I CERTAINLY FEEL TERRIBLE.

But I passed the 5th place girl in here, so hey, let’s just keep going and I’ll win $500 for placing 5th. YAY!

Mile 19-20: 7:10, 7:25
Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, I had to go to the bathroom at mile 19. Like really bad. I spotted porta-potties at the 19 mile marker and thought to myself, “no. NO. You do NOT have to use them, you only think you have to go because of the novelty of them being there,” so I kept running.

At mile 19.5 it was bad. For the first time EVER in any race…despite the 2-tablespoon serving of Imodium I took before the race…I HAD to go to the bathroom. It wasn’t my imagination.

Usually, I have no shame. If I was on my way to sub-3, I gladly would’ve shit my pants.

But I knew Buffalo wasn’t going to be that magical day. So at mile 19.5, after a 1/2-mile of profusely squeezing my butt cheeks together and trying to convince myself that it was all in my head, I looked around and saw I was alone in the middle of a random street in Buffalo. So I spotted an alley, ran over, and relieved myself. The whole production didn’t take more than 25 seconds, so when my mile marker beeped in for a 7:25 20th mile, I was pretty pleased with myself.

See that left quad? Yeah, it used to be broken and now it’s not. So at least I’ve got that going for me.

Mile 21: 7:14
But despite my emptied bowels, I continued to feel sorry for myself. It was still pretty humid, in the mid-high 70s; and every aid station was buzzing with medics, ready to help overheated runners. Because I was pretty much running alone, I remember looking at the faces of medics who were passing out ice-soaked cloths and they looked really concerned.

“Yeah, that’s right, self. You poor thing. No one runs a marathon in a heatwave. Just keep on keeping on. Your chance of a good race is done.”

I hit mile 21 in Buffalo almost exactly 1 minute slower than in Boston, and I knew it. The biggest difference between the two runs was that in Boston, I was ready to gut it out. In Buffalo, I was ready to go home, and I subconsciously shut things down knowing this.

Hot and over it.

Mile 22: 7:16
I looked at the 22nd mile marker and distinctly remember thinking, “wow, I’m actually running this thing. Holy shit.”

This was a defining moment in the race.

While I had mentally given up on any sort of big PR way back at mile 17…mile 22 is when I just gave up entirely. Anything I was hoping for out of this race was over. I was tired. I was hot. I had just taken a shit in an alley.

The fire inside me was already extinguished before I even stepped foot on that marathon course, but the ashes totally blew away at mile 22.

Miles 23-25: 7:30, 7:44, 7:43
Miserable. These miles were completely miserable. I told myself to finish because I thought I was in 5th place…otherwise, I would’ve DNFed. I didn’t care about a good race anymore. I didn’t care about a PR. I just wanted to win my $500 and get the hell out of Buffalo.

I got a little emotional going through the rolling hills on this portion of the course. Being the drama queen that I am, I teared up thinking about how my spring season was a bust, and how every time I tried to run a decent race this spring, the weather thwarted my plans.

Mile 26-26.2: 7:24, last .41 at 6:44
Gabe had been biking alongside of me for the past 3 miles, and we were completely silent. He knew better than to try to encourage me, but I was silently immensely thankful for his support and love.

As I ran the final mile, back into the city of Buffalo, I passed an elite runner who was rubbing her belly from GI discomfort. Passing her, I wasn’t sure if I was in 4th or 5th place…but either way, I was just finishing to get the cash. I had zero concept of what my time was going to be.

Any time I tried to go any faster than a 7:30 in the final few miles, I felt my insides exploding again. My stomach wasn’t happy with me either, and I desperately needed to finish the race and refuel.

JUST MAKE IT END.

FINAL MARATHON – 3:09:12

It was the most unexciting marathon finish of my life. It didn’t even seem like I had run an entire marathon. The Buffalo Bills tried to loop the finishers medal around my neck, but I just extended my hand to receive it, head down in shame. At that point, I just felt empty; in shock about how much that experience had sucked. (I was also still relishing in the fact that I had just taken a shit in an alley of downtown Buffalo).

I chugged a bottle of water and started the hobble back to the car with Gabe. I didn’t make it 2 blocks before I HAD to go to the bathroom again (this time in a Dunkin Donuts, not in an alley, thankfully). From there, I was only able to walk 5 more blocks before I had to go to the bathroom again. And then the stomach cramps were completely unbearable. I spent the rest of the morning feeling like I had been hit by a truck, alternating between the toilet and a horizontal sprawl on the floor of our non-air conditioned, 90° Airbnb. I could barely choke down a protein drink, I was so sick. I eventually ended taking another dose of Imodium to calm my stomach down.

Once my GI system was under control (literally hours later), we packed up the car to go to my childhood home just outside of Syracuse. My legs felt fine and Gabe actually marveled at the fact that I had just ran a marathon and was moving around like no big deal. It was bittersweet hearing him say this, as I knew I didn’t nearly push myself as hard as I could have.

It was over. While I never saw the marathon result I wanted this spring, I finally had closure of 10 months of training. In a way, I was relieved to put an end to it all.

Skaneateles. Home.

—

The Aftermath
Now I see the silver lining with the whole double marathon thing. The biggest takeaway? I realize how really freaking hard it is to run a marathon, let alone two back to back. Respect the distance, people.

On a personal level, running two marathons back to back is something totally new to me. Before this, I had only run one marathon per year. Doing Boston and then immediately jumping into Buffalo was a huge learning experience.

I also haven’t run any other marathons besides Boston in 3 years and I forgot how fun marathoning is in new places. I had a really great time in Buffalo with Gabe and the race went by pretty quickly because of the new sights.

I found out a few hours after the marathon that I did not, in fact, get 5th place, nor did I get $500. I came in 6th place out of 1,436 women. I missed out of 5th place by 21 seconds – aka, the time spent taking a crap at mile 19.5. Apparently the 5th place woman passed me while I was relieving myself…and I had no idea. Had I realized this, you bet your bottom dollar I would’ve fought for that finishing place.

And this is why it’s important to never settle.

So I’ll move on from this, and from the marathon for now. I have no desire to run another marathon this fall…so I won’t. I’m craving speed again, and my body needs a break from the 20 milers. I’ve decided to focus on the half and 10k.

Running a sub-3 marathon doesn’t scare me, but this wasn’t my year for it…so we’ll see what happens next time. It was the first time I didn’t hit a big running goal on the first try. Guess I’m not invincible. All I know is that I’m happy and so SO thankful to be healthy and uninjured right now. My running career has been nothing but a seemingly endless injury cycle and, until now, I haven’t been able to string together 12 healthy months of running since I first started training in 2013. Buffalo left me feeling upset…but also ridiculously motivated to never put myself in a position like that again. And, after a solid recovery month of June, I’m rested, pissed, and hungry for more.

Hey summer running: get at me. I’ve got PRs to hit in the fall.

Bird Camp

Bird Camp in the numbers:
Hours of driving from CT to NH: 8 (4 each way)
Pairs of sneakers packed: 4 (only 3 were worn)
Miles run between Friday – Sunday: 22.9
Nights spent lying in bed, freezing, with 3 layers on top AND bottom: 3
Number of birds in our cabin: 6
Bird camp attendees: 105
Showers taken at camp: 2
Number of showers that were with hot water: 0

DCIM101GOPRO

DCIM101GOPRO

I’ll be honest: I was a little skeptical of this concept of Bird Camp. 105 women in one little space. I figured most people would know each other…and I’d know no one since our CT meetups have been lackluster due to the scattered location of our members. And the itinerary seemed packed; would we be able to relax at all? I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to run since I’ve been taking some much needed time off after double marathoning to rest my irritated hamstring.

But as soon as Charlotte picked me up in the driveway, I knew it was going to be great. We spent the entire drive up to New Hampshire chatting and getting to know each other, and I instantly felt better. We arrived to camp just in time for dinner/orientation and instantly started making new friends as soon as we stepped foot in the dining hall.

The runs were beautiful and my hamstring actually felt fine. Through some fantastic presentations, I learned the importance of putting my phone away long before bed and I may even consider investing in a pair of Sketchers (maybe). Fast forward to Saturday and it was time for my strength presentation!

Being a running AND a strength coach, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss the importance of strength training and varied movement for runners. Strength training is not only used for injury prevention…but there are also numerous studies that indicate strength training help increase aerobic speed in conjunction with running economy. On a personal level: the only time I haven’t been injured is when I’m strength training.

So after a brief intro about why strength training and moving differently are SO important for runners, I jumped right into a quick body-weight workout that incorporated all planes of movement.

INTRO
There are three planes of movement: sagittal, frontal, and transverse.

Credits: Kate Galliett with Fit For Real Life

As runners, we are really really great at moving forward – i.e. – moving on the sagittal plane. But that means we’re leaving two entire plans of motion out of our practice. To put it simply: by continuing to only move on the sagittal plane, runners create a great deal of imbalance, which eventually can turn into injury.

To be better runners, we should not only incorporate resistance training into our workouts…but also other types of movement. And, no, I’m not talking about sitting on the bike or elliptical or stair master for 45 minutes (though, I did think that was the solution for the first 2 years of my running career). I’m talking about MOVING differently, along all planes.

Being limited with space and equipment at camp, I developed a quick series of exercises that incorporated all planes of movement. My objective was to teach something that wasn’t running…get some hearts pumping…and to drive home the concept of thinking outside the box when it comes to being a stronger and better runner. If you have any questions about anything I’ve written below (or would like me to send you a video and/or clarification of the exercise, please contact me at itsamarython@gmail.com).

Warmup
1. CARs, or Controlled Articular Rotations (These are types of movements stemming from the training system called FRC. Read more about FRC here or read more about CARs over at my friend Todd’s blog here. If you attended Bird Camp and want a refresher of what these movements are, shoot me an email).
-cat/camel
-quadruped hip
-ankle

2. Active Movement
-walking high knees
-knee hug to lunge
-leg cradle
-heel to butt
-lunge matrix

3. Locomotion
-duck walk
-bear crawl
-inch worm
-crab walk

4. Wall posture
-wall posture holds
-single switch
-double switch
-load & lift

The workout! (finally!)
Side shuffle (5R/5L x 4)
BW squat (x 10)
Agility ladder: 2 in/2 out (20 sec x 4)
High knees (20 sec)
Lateral bear crawl (10/s x 2)
Jumping jacks (20 sec)
Pushups (x 10)
Agility ladder: Icky Shuffle (20 sec x 4)
Groiners (5/s)
Lateral march (10/s x 2)
Plank (30 sec)
Lateral skip (10/s x 2)
Shuffle hop (30 sec)
Side to side hop (30 sec)
POW reverse lunge (10/s)
Side winder (10/s)
Hand touch (x 10)
Side plank (30 sec/s)

Cooldown
Pigeon
Hamstring stretch
Hip flexors
Downward dog w/ slow rise
Reach and lateral stretch (ITB)
(These are just some of my favorites).

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…and after the beer comes the #workout! 😉 So awesome to learn all about dynamic warm-ups and exercises for runners from @itsamarython. #oisellevolée #oiselle @oisellenortheastbirdcamp @oiselle #nebirdcamp #nebirdcamp2016 #birdcamp

A post shared by Joanna (@joannarunsboston) on Jun 11, 2016 at 3:43pm PDT

 

Thanks again to Rebecca for organizing such an amazing weekend and to Oiselle for making this entire thing possible. Can’t wait for next year!

 

 

 

Pre-Boston Thoughts

My thoughts? Excited. I’m really freaking excited.

Last year, I approached this race very tentatively, unsure about how it would pan out. Coming off a tibial stress reaction made for a very shaky training cycle. The pieces only seemed to come together in the final week leading up to taper-so I definitely went for it on race day-but walked away with a time that was a few seconds off my PR…and another stress reaction.

Last year, the course broke me.
This year, I’m going to break the course.

This year, I’m nervous but confident (in case you couldn’t already tell). But my confidence stems from the miles and hours I’ve put into this sport over the past year because I love it so much. As the doc who does my ART said to me, “Mary, you’re a completely different person this year, and I don’t just mean by the shape you’re in. You’re just in a completely different place and you’re emotionally much more prepared.” And he’s totally right.

Over the past few months, I’ve realized that I don’t necessarily like saying that “I’m back” (meaning-I’m back to the pre-injury Mary, circa 2014). Because a wise friend taught me that the only way to really go is forward.

But I’m excited and proud of where I am today because getting here was a process that was built over the entire past year. Even when I got the diagnosis that my femur was injured. It was so much more different than when I consistently denied my tibia injury. With the femur, it was kinda like, “yep. Of course. I expected this to happen. So might as well be good about it this time,” and I stopped running IMMEDIATELY. I rehabbed through the summer and was smart about coming back. I never expected anything to happen magically and I was certainly discouraged many many times. But with a solid support system and a new training philosophy, I took baby steps to where I am now.

So now. Here we are. Here I am. Confident. In shape. Ready. Nervous. Excited. Wanting redemption.

And when I find myself too nervous, I remind myself that I’m running THE Boston Marathon. The event that terrorists tried to ruin three years ago. The race that shuts down an entire city for a day. The marathon you need to earn to get into. And people line up on the sides of the street for 26 miles SCREAMING and cheering on runners, just for the hell of it. The weather is going to be my absolute favorite running weather. I mean…it’s going to be fun as shit.

Here are the training facts, mostly because I like numbers:

	Total	Avg MPW	Highest Week	Lowest Week	LR	Most Memorable Workout (see more below)
December	117	29	34	24	8	6×400 | 3′ rest | 6×400 Actual: 400s averaged 1:21
January	214	54	53	36	15	8×4′ @ 5:52, followed by 4×45″ @ 5:28 Actual: 4′ averaged 6:00, 45″ averaged 5:09
February	232	58	61	48	20	4×2 miles @ 6:20 Actual: 2 mile segments averaged 6:18
March	264	66	80	46	24	7xmile @ 5:50 Actual: Miles averaged 5:59
April (pre-Boston)	124	–	61	35	18	3×3 miles @ 6:43 Actual: 3 mile segments averaged 6:36

• December – 6×400 | 3′ rest | 6×400 -Probably one of my favorite memories from training. It was 60° (in December!!!) and it was the first time I was doing a workout with Alyssa, someone I met through James, my coach. We were in a park in New Britain and did the first set of 400s and were sweating our butts off. So we looked at each other and simultaneously took our shirts off to just run in our sports bras…and proceeded to kill the second set. In the distance, we could see this crazy illumination of Christmas lights (it turned out to be this Christmas house in New Britain) and we barely knew each other, but it made us so happy! Here we were…running together…in sports bras…right before Christmas…with so much time to go before Boston. It was a really fun night.

• January – 8×4′ @ 5:52, followed by 4×45″ @ 5:28 – This was a hard month to pick a most memorable workout because there were so many good ones (hellooooo running 10 miles solo in YakTrax in the dark during a legitimate blizzard…which was also the weekend I broke a treadmill because it apparently couldn’t handle 6:20s). BUT. If I had to decide a most memorable one, it’s this 8×4″ workout. I did it with Aimee, and we both were SO NERVOUS. I had just run 5×4″ a few weeks prior and had BARELY made it through. There was no way I thought 8 of them would happen. But, somehow, it did.

• February – 4×2 miles @ 6:20 – Hands down, my favorite workout this month (and quite possibly the entire training cycle), done with my friend Courtney. It wasn’t that I was nervous going into this one. I just knew it was going to be hard…but doable. We met at my work and headed out just before sunset. It was FREEZING and there had just been a snowstorm, so I was super stressed out about where in hell we were going to do the workout because the roads and sidewalks were super icy. Thank god Courtney is so positive because I was in a piss poor mood, until we stumbled across this apartment complex, tucked behind a major road in the middle of my town. Not only were the roads completely plowed and not icy…but IT WAS A PERFECT LOOP, each lap being about .8 miles. It even had a little rolling hill, so we had some up and some down. As soon as we found the loop, my piss poor mood immediately went away and I relaxed into the workout. The miles were smooth and controlled and consistently under 6:20. By the time we got to the last mile, we were grinding, but as we turned the corner for the last bit, Courtney said, “Mar, this is the workout you need to remember when you’re tired at Boston. This is where puppies become dogs!” hahahahaha. I still give her a hard time for that one. Anywho. Our last mile was a 6:15 and I was PUMPED. This workout was definitely a game changer mentally.

• March – 7xmile @ 5:50 – This workout was done solo. I didn’t think there was any way in HELL I’d be able to do 7 mile repeats at the prescribed speed (5:50)…and I didn’t, not technically, haha…but I came very close (I averaged 5:59)! The first 4 miles were certainly easier than the last 3, but I kept telling myself to turn my legs over and stay bouncy and the miles somehow churned out. The other memorable workout in the month of March was a 5 mile warmup, then 13 @ marathon effort (we averaged 6:56), followed by a 3 mile cooldown. I did this one with Alyssa, and we did loops and loops around this beautiful reservoir in New Britain that was HILLY as shit. We climbed over 1k feet and it took at least 4 days to recover.

This is what a 21 mile run with 1k feet of elevation looks like

• April – 3×3 miles @ 6:43 – MARATHON MONTH! Yahoo! It really crept up on me. There obviously weren’t many workouts this month, but there were a couple, and my favorite was definitely 3×3 miles with Alyssa at the same park where she and I started our journey together doing 400s back in December. 🙂 This was the very last workout before taper, done 11 days out from Boston. You see-this is the first marathon I’m training under James, so it’s the first time I’m experiencing a 10 (11) day taper instead of 2 weeks. It was hard to watch all my friends celebrate tapertown over the weekend, while I still had a key workout to do, but it was definitely worth the wait.  Our 3-mile sets went 6:43, 6:35, 6:31, with our last mile cruising in at a 6:18. The thing is: I didn’t love this workout because we nailed our paces. I loved this workout because of how it felt. I had this exact same workout just about one month prior and it was pretty tough. This time around, in April, it felt completely different and effortless. Alyssa and I were chatting for the entire first set…chatted for most of the second set…and pushed it a little for the third set. It was validation that we are ready for this damn marathon.

Alyssa and I during our long run in Boston. I am tall. She is small.

• Also – It would be remiss of me not to include the Boston Buildup races in here as key events leading up to Boston. My favorite workouts may be speed and short tempo, but this was the first year I did every single run of the CT Buildup series (10k, 15k, 20k, 25k), and I think the runs are SO so important to training. The races are fully supported, filled with positive people, and HILLY.

The Boston Buildup 20k course, aka death by hills

SO the hay is in the barn. Or whatever the saying is. I’m stepping on that starting line Monday with zero regrets about my training and an insane amount of excitement to run my 6th marathon. Never, in a million years, did I ever think I’d be running more than 1 marathon, let alone 6.

I’m one of those people who likes to race, but I really love training, so closing this chapter is really bittersweet and even a tad big emotional. But it’s been one that I can look back on and be really really happy about.

Fast facts of this training:
Biggest difference – new coach
Number of ice baths – surprisingly, only 1
Number of workouts completely blown – 2 (one was a DNF and one was a DNS)
Number of sports bra runs (includes indoor track/TM) – 7
Batches of cookies baked – 3
Other locations besides CT where I’ve run this block – NJ, Chicago, VA Beach, Boston
Bottles of Immodium purchased for LRs – 2
Number of times I thought I was injured again – 15
Number of weeks living at my in-laws b/c we were Airbnb’ing our house out – 8

2015

2015 was good. There was a lot of self-discovery and there was a lot of figuring out what’s really important in life. I also, for the first time, learned from my mistakes–something I hadn’t always done in the immaturity of my early 20s.

January
I’m not a huge fan of winter. Actually…strike that. I fucking hate winter and the cold. Being from outside of Syracuse, everyone always says to me, “wow, you must be used to the winter!” HA…no. Growing up where it’s cold 8 months out of the year made me despise the winter. I guarantee you that I’ll never EVER complain about summer’s heat and humidity because I’m the queen of bitching during the winter.

Anywho. My point here is that the winters are generally a blur because I want them to end as soon as possible. This particular January was spent getting back into shape, so it was even more of a blur because getting into shape sucks and I tried to block it from my memory.

For the past 3 years, I’ve run a spring marathon–which also means that Januarys have been spent getting back into the swing of marathon training and long runs. Thank goodness for teammates who don’t mind getting up at dawn to run miles in sub-freezing temperatures.

Gotham City Runners at Rockefeller State Park in Pleasantville, NY

February
Ragnar Keys (running from Miami to the Florida Keys) was on my bucket list of must-do races for a couple years. In the fall of 2014, I was able to purchase an entry from a team who pulled out. Transferring the team name over to Team in Puddin was a breeze, so when I asked the rest of our group if they wanted to go to Miami to race/party, the response was a unanimous yes.

We were literally minutes away from finishing first (clearly still not over it), but had to settle for second place in the coed division, finishing 196 miles in 23:33 (7:12 team average pace).

Second place coed champions!

March
I was laid off from my job in fashion marketing on March 10th. Department restructuring…or something.  To be honest: it was the best worst day of my entire life. (One of the highlights was exiting the office and hopping in a big black SUV where I was driven to my car, parked 50 minutes away at the train station. It was like a scene out of The Bachelor…minus the champagne, sequins, and excessive tears).

Anywho.

My emotional state was another story. I went through quite a few phases over the first month or so of being laid off. Initially, I felt rejected. Why me? What did I do? What didn’t I do? I’m so embarrassed. Why didn’t someone warn me?

That lasted, like…a day.
Then I FREAKED the eff out.

Omg what am I going to do. Where am I going to work? What kind of job am I going to get? How am I going to pay my mortgage? What if I never find another job again?

Panic mode lasted a week.
Lots of wine…chicken fingers…wine…running…chocolate…xanex…wine…etc.

Then I realized that losing my job was an opportunity, not something that I should dwell on and be sad about. The truth was that I wasn’t happy, and I hadn’t been for a long time. Working behind a desk at a strict 9-5 was really frustrating for me. I had also been commuting 3+ hours a day for about 1-1/2 years…and I was totally burned out. (How I managed to commute, work, see Gabe, and shave 14 minutes off my marathon in 2014, is completely beyond me……….but I digress.)

It’s not that I don’t like working…I do. But I realized that I wanted the freedom to have a flexible schedule. I wanted to work with people. I didn’t want to sit on my ass for 8 (or more) hours every single day. I wanted to do something I was passionate about, and something that excited me. I wanted to have time to run and work out and be HEALTHY, and not feel like the office asshole because I took my lunch to go running.

The change was a good thing for me.

I had been thinking about getting into either physical therapy or strength coaching…I just hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. This lay off was the perfect opportunity to just go for it. If not now…when?

So I reached out to a couple strength coaches and fitness professionals that I was acquainted with. I wanted to know how they got into the field…how their lives were structured…if they were happy…what they did on a day-to-day basis. One friend in particular, Todd Bumgardner, met me for coffee one day in late March. At the time, he was working at Ranfone Training Systems, a gym where I had trained at in the past. He suggested I come to RTS and just check it out. See if I liked what I saw and if I could imagine myself being a strength coach. I told him that while running and healthy living were HUGE passions of mine, I was completely intimidated by the strength training world. He responded with the biggest and best piece of advice I’ve carried around with me since that day: “the thing about intimidation is that you have to shrink it. You just have to start doing stuff that scares you…and sooner or later, it won’t be so intimidating anymore.”

So that’s exactly what I did.

I shadowed at RTS for a week or so in April…then, I started interning there in May…now, as of October, I work there. Crazy how a positive attitude, patience, and persistence pays off, right?  I’m really thankful for the opportunities, patience, and knowledge that the guys there–Mike, Scott, Corey, and Todd–have given me.

One of these things is not like the others

April
In the beginning of April, I traveled to Washington, DC, with a few friends to run the Cherry Blossom 10 Miler…which ended up turning into a 9.5(?) miler because of an accident on the course. Bummer. We used it as a pre-Boston progression run, so we started with cool-as-cucumber 7:30s and quickly progressed to 6:30s, where I pretty much bitched the entire way because I was told we wouldn’t be running faster than 7s.

Then, of course…there was Boston. Somehow I managed to get in shape for another 3:08 marathon. It wasn’t pretty and it hurt like HELL, but I did it.

Finally! My pre-injury self was back…………….

May
……….And then I found out I had a stress reaction in my femur. Ugh. Yeah. That sucked. So turns out that the massive amount of quad pain I was in at the end of Boston was a combination of dead marathon legs and a bone that was about to snap. Hey, at least it didn’t break, right??

I was pretty devastated when I found out about this new injury, especially because my first doctor told me not to do any sort of physical activity-including swimming or yoga-for at least 4 weeks. Luckily, I was able to get a second opinion from an orthopedic doctor within a week, and that doctor gave me the go-ahead to get in the pool and yoga. But, honestly, even coming back with non-impact activities was a very gradual progression. I actually had been rowing again (not doctor-approved) and I had to put the kibosh to it because it was bugging my quad.

SO needless to say, even though I was cleared to do yoga and aqua jog, it was still a few weeks before I was cleared to bike…and eventually elliptical.

When I felt like I couldn’t bear to continue moving my legs on those damn crosstraining machines, I would just start repeating goal PRs in my head, and visualizing the finish line at Boston.

 

I got really into yoga and crushed my fear of going upside down.

Gabe and I also went to our first wedding of 8 in 2015! We celebrated Vicky and Ezra in Boston in early May.

Wedding 1

June
When I was laid off in March, I made a full-hearted commitment to ENJOY the summer and make the most of it while also doing what I needed to advance my new career. It had been years since I had enjoyed my summer; not to mention I really wanted to spend time with my family and Gabe, both of whom were neglected with my old job, something I regret.

So that’s exactly what I did. Mission: Live Summer/Life To The Absolute Fullest commenced. I started my internship at Ranfone while also spending as much time as humanly possible outdoors.

Thank god for bicycles and for this amazing person.

Team In Puddin was also doing Ragnar Trail New England in late June. I had signed up to run, but obviously couldn’t with my injury…so I went anyway to support/camp out/drink wine. It was amazing and both our women’s and mens’ teams walked (ran?) away with first and second place in their divisions respectively.

July
Mission: Live Summer/Life To The Absolute Fullest was working. I was really really happy and finally had time for the important things in life. I learned that I naturally needed 9 hours of sleep (really, body??) and I was really enjoying my internship at Ranfone.

And after about 9 weeks of no running, I FINALLY started to build my running back up again. Not fun. Miserable, really. But, as with most things in life, in order to improve in something, you just have to do the hard shit that most people don’t want to do. If it was easy, everyone would be doing it.

So I put my head down, sucked it up, and worked through the out-of-shapeness. I kept telling myself that sooner or later, the hard work would pay off.

There were tears. My femur bone hurt and I was convinced I was hurt again. I had so many runs where I really couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I had no other choice but to keep working and keep moving forward. I knew, before my injury, that I could keep getting faster–I could be GREAT!–and run times that were once unimaginable. So I knew, post-injury, that that speed–that greatness–had to still be in there somewhere. I just had to stay positive. Somehow…

First tempo back. Literally dry heaved through the last mile.

August
I wouldn’t say I felt back in shape in August…but I definitely felt like I was going in the right direction. I ran my first race “back,” a 10k…and I PRed!
Lots of other stuff happened in August too! I spent a week working the girls’ HS cross country camp at Princeton University, which was so great and fun.

Gabe and I also continued on our wedding tour de 2015. We visited Stillwater, MN, to celebrate Sean and Lara…

Then I found my first grey hair…………………………

Wait. Is it weird/normal that I took a photo?

And, of course, I continued Mission: Live Summer/Life To The Absolute Fullest.

So much beach, so little summer

We also had wedding celebration/dinner thing #3, but I have no photos to document it. 😦

September
Labor Day is such a bittersweet holiday for me: I hate that it means summer is over…but I LOVE the New Haven 5k/20k, which happens on Labor Day itself. The race is also the USATF 20k Road Championship race, and it’s just such a fun, hometown event! …not to mention it’s really cool seeing elite runners all over town. I had the pleasure of picking Molly Huddle up from the train station and I was totally star-struck and tried my best to play it cool.

I gave Molly a Speed Package…something that has turned into a pre-race tradition among my close running friends!

This was also the second year that I hosted a pasta party at my house the night before the 20k. I invited teammates from my CT Running team, SoundRUNNER Racing, as well as teammates from the Oiselle flock.

So, then…the race itself. Ugh. I went into the 20k race with high expectations. In hindsight, I’m pretty sure I was delusional, especially considering 12.4 miles was the longest I had run since April. The splits went something like this:
6:50, 6:54, 6:40 (I’m doing it! yay running!)
6:54, 6:50, 6:58 (wait…I’m really hot and this is hard.)
6:52, 7:10, 7:25 (nope. nope. nope. nope.)
7:40, 7:24, 7:31 (just don’t walk. juuuuust don’t walk.)
the last .49 in 6:57 (when the eff is this race over????)
So I averaged 7:05. On paper, it doesn’t look awful…but it felt like a legitimate death march after the halfway point. It was a very humbling experience, and a huge slap to the face. I realized I had a LOT (like a lot) of work to do.

Hanging onto this redhead for dear life. Also, the smile isn’t real, I promise. I was in a world of hurt.

The positives of the month?? A wedding in New Jersey.

4 of 8

AND, a breakthrough workout at the end of the month: running 10 controlled and calm miles through some rolling hills. YES. the patience and hard work was starting to pay off.

October
I had signed up for the half at the Hartford Marathon on October 10th as a tester to see where my fitness was. I also just really wanted to run the race since I heard the course was great (rolling hills) and I had been out of town for it the past couple of years. I went into the race just hoping to break 90, but also really nervous because of how crappy I had just run at the 20k, less than a month prior.

Well. The race was great. I started out controlled and kept building momentum, with my last few miles being in the 6:20s. I crossed that finish line with the biggest smile on my face and FINALLY feeling like I was just about back to my pre-injury self.

Probably my favorite finish line photo ever.

Gabe and I also attended our 5th wedding of the year (actually…this was the night of Hartford! :D)
I also kissed goodbye to my Garmin 210 😦 ……
…..but replaced it with a new one and continued having breakthrough workouts, running paces that were even faster than the pre-injury days! 🙂
November
Probably my favorite month of 2015. During Mission: Live Summer/Life To The Absolute Fullest, I booked a trip to Denver, Colorado, to see my best friend from high school, followed by a trip to San Francisco and Healdsburg/Sacramento for a cousin’s wedding.

Highlights of Colorado included a tour of the Coors Brewery, dressing up as senior citizens for Halloween in downtown Denver, hiking up The Incline in Manitou Springs, seeing the US Air Force Academy, hiking a glacier near Idaho Springs, the Red Rocks Amphitheater, drinking lots of beer, altitude sickness, using a lot of chapstick, and lots and lots of running (including-my fav-Magnolia Road).

When I booked the trip, my coach had said something to me about how difficult training would be while traveling…and I was determined to prove to him that I could do it all–travel, train hard, and prep for a race. I had some REALLY great workouts while I was away (and only 1 bombed workout), so my confidence was pretty high for a strong half later in the month at Philly.

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After a week in CO, I flew to San Francisco to spend an afternoon with ROBIN(!!) and then met up with Gabe to continue on our journey to wine country and wedding number 6.

Then, the week after California, Gabe and I scooted to upstate NY (my hometown of Skaneateles) for the 7th wedding of the year!

Pretty much wedding professionals at this point

THEN, THE NEXT WEEKEND WAS PHILLY! My chance to prove that all my hard work really paid off. To prove that the spring stress reaction was just a small blip in the radar…that I could actually break 1:28 in a half marathon…that I could retake the Philly Half course that KILLED me in 2013, and show it who’s boss…that I was really and truly back to where I was before so many things started crumbling a couple summers ago.

Well. I still really REALLY hate the half course in Philly (quite possibly the worst-placed hills in a half marathon EVER)…but I ran a 1:27 and was so so happy. 🙂

So tired…so cold…but so happy

After the half, I took Monday through Wednesday off from running..then jumped in my local Turkey Trot to see how it’d go. I think the course is just a teeeeeny bit short, but I managed a 13-second PR with a 19:28!

Corner-rounding skillz

Who am I kidding? I pretty much only ran it for the turkey trophy

December
After an extremely eventful November, I was happy to CHILL OUT during December. Running took a back seat as I dealt with a little shin splint issue. Fortunately, I’ve learned a LOT since my last shin issue, so I nipped this one in the butt with rest and ART before it could get serious. I was thankful to feel well enough to run outside in a sports bra and shorts on Christmas Eve…:)

Then, on New Year’s Eve, Gabe and I attended our 8th and final wedding of the year!

So here’s to even more positivity, good health, career growth, and continued happiness in 2016!!!!!

Philly

Dreamteam

Biggest fan

Partners in crime

Bad Girlz

Hartford Half

The last time I raced a half was in March of 2014, just prior to my first Boston. It was cold and gritty, but fun and successful, and I ran a PR of 1:28:28. Then I ran Boston a month later, which was awesome for obvious reasons. After that came a year of injuries, self-defeat, and growing–not only with my running, but also with my personal and professional life. I did squeak out another successful marathon at Boston again this past April, but soon thereafter spiraled into another injury.

So, then, that brings us to Hartford. I wasn’t after PRs for Hartford. I was after a strong, solid race. I wanted to regain confidence and finish with nothing left in the tank. Time-wise, I hoped to be somewhere close to where I was pre-injury #1. A PR would be nice, but not expected. I would’ve been disappointed to not be under 90.

The Training
The post-injury buildup this summer has been slow. VERY slow. I didn’t start doing workouts until the last week of July. And then even from there, the workouts were much more conservative than they have been in the past. Instead of 3 brutal workouts a week, I ran only 1 really heavy track workout, then MAYBE a second marathon-paced tempo, and a long run over the weekend. I started light lifting, 1x/week, in late September.

Recovery days were also very VERY different than they have been in the past. There’s this new-fangled concept called listening to your body…and I just started incorporating it into my training. Instead of hammering through recovery runs at a 7:20-40 pace that felt terrible and miserable, I’ve started to run what feels good to my lungs and legs, which is usually between an 8-8:30. Sometimes, if I really feel shitty, I’ll run close to 8:40 and feel just fine about it. Slowing down easy days has actually made me love running even more. I can count the number of days on one hand where I had a hard time motivating myself to get out the door this summer…and it’s mostly because if I’m headed out for an easy run, I know it’s going to be relaxing, slow, and enjoyable.

I’ve never done this before on my blog, but here is a quick snap of my September training leading up to this race:

	Workout 1	Workout 2	Long Run	WKLY MILEAGE
Week 1	6x1k, 6×200	8x40sec, then 8x40sec hills	n/a	40
Week 2	New Haven 20k (which I will need to recap at some point)	ladder: 3×600, 400, 300, 200	11.5	52
Week 3	7-mile progression	6x1k, 6×300	12	51
Week 4	10-miles @ 7:00	5×1 mile	15.6	52
Week 5	2×8, 2×4, 2×8, 2×4	n/a	10	57

So, like I said…not a crazy amount of workouts, but the higher mileage and solid long runs kept me pretty confident and helped grow my aerobic base back.

New Haven 20k. Not the best day, but a decent workout. And, hey, at least I smiled. 🙂

The Race
Hartford is only 40 minutes from my house, so I had the luxury of sleeping in my own bed the night before the race. But, of course, in true me-fashion, I cut it REALLY close in the morning, and there wasn’t much any time for a warmup. I had a quick 2-minute jog before needing to line up. I also peed next to a building in the middle of downtown Hartford. Whoops.

The plan was to run the first 3 miles at 7:00, then the next 5-miles in the low 6:50s. I needed to hit 8 miles around 55 minutes. At that point, I needed to make a decision of what I wanted next: I could either continue to cruise at 6:50, or drop it down to 6:45. For the last 5k, I needed to pick it up, and I was instructed to “go to the well” with the final 2.1.

Miles 1-3: 6:50, 6:58, 6:56
There was lots of watch/pace checking during these early miles to make sure the pace wasn’t too much. These miles felt light and ticked by pretty quickly. The temp was perfect–mid 50s–and wind wasn’t an issue yet. I crossed by the 3-mile marker just around 20:50, which was perfect, and right on plan.

Miles 4-6: 6:53, 7:01, 6:43
As soon as the third mile marker ticked, I pushed the pace just a bit. I felt my legs turn over a little faster, but it felt good. My breathing was very controlled and I wasn’t working very hard, which made me feel really optimistic. I reminded myself of that 10-miler at 7:00 workout I had done a few weeks prior; I was feeling better today than I did then, which was a confidence-booster. I had my first gel at 30-minutes with no digestion issues.

Mile 5 was the first steady incline. I saw a friend, so I briefly pushed ahead to chat with her. I got to the top of the hill and felt a little winded and saw my watch hit 7:01. I said, “shit,” out loud; 7:01 was not part of the plan. I knew we had just had a hill, but I needed to move.

I used the downhill mile 6 to get the time back. When 6:43 clicked on my watch, I said, “chill out, Mary, you still have the whole race to run,” and I settled back into a more conservative pace.

Mile 7: 6:49
The longest mile of this race was mile 7. You’re on this straight stretch on a street called Trout Brook Drive. For some reason, I felt like I had gone from running with tons of people to…no one. The wind picked up and I desperately tried to find someone to draft off of, but there was literally nobody. Wtf!! A couple spectators made positive comments about my form, which really helped keep my spirits up. But, in all honesty, this was a hard mile, both mentally and physically.

Tons of self doubt crept in. Can I do this? Do I have the endurance? It’s been so long since you raced a half…who are you kidding to try to run a time close to your PR? Why is there no one around?!?

Also, for some reason, my achilles was somewhat sore, and here is when it started really bugging me. Then my bad quad started burning a little bit…then my hip…and my whole left side just started feeling like crap. AHhhhhhhh.

The only thing that calmed me down was that I had my “decision” at mile 8–I could either pick it up and drop the hammer OR just keep steady around/just under 6:50, and probably still finish the race in under 90. My training partner, Aimee, and I always tell each other during workouts to “commit to xx reps…then you can bail,” so that’s what I did here. I said, “commit to this race until mile 8…then you can just cruise if you need to.”

Mile 8: 6:56
I completely forgot to check my watch to see if I had successfully hit mile 8 in 55-min, which was the plan. I had little time to worry, though, because this mile was uphill and difficult. The hill lasted about half a mile BUT my legs actually felt decent and I found myself passing people, which was an instant ego-boost. “Do NOT look at your watch,” I told myself. I knew this was one of the final hills, and I remember my friend Courtney telling me that it’s mostly downhill after mile 8.

“This feels hard because you’re going up. Just get to the top of this hill and recommit.”

I also ran past a $10 bill on the ground just before the hill. I’m still regretting not picking it up. 😦

Miles 9-11: 6:39, 6:39, 6:39
Game. On.

I got to the top of the hill in Elizabeth Park at mile 9 and said, “OK Mary, let’s go.” I took my second gel and it went down just as successfully as the first one. My legs felt great…the weather was perfect…I was really enjoying the course…my nutrition was on point. Everything was aligning, so it was time to go for it. Even though I’ll be running another half in a month…who knows what conditions or training will be like? Everything at Hartford was perfect and I needed to take advantage of the opportunity. I immediately got excited that I was FINALLY running my own race, something I haven’t done in a really long time.

6:40s felt a little more challenging, so I was thankful to find a group of people to hang with. They were talking about how the 1:30 pacer was way ahead of pace (apparently last year he finished in 1:27?!?!) which made me feel better, but I wasn’t really worried about him. I knew what I needed to do.

As we went through one more incline in the park through the botanical gardens, a shorter woman and I worked together. It reminded me of Aimee and I working together on our workouts, so I pretended the woman was Aimee and we were just doing a workout together. The plan was to hit 6:45s here, but low 6:40s felt really good, so I held on. I would’ve loved to have kept going with the woman, but after about a mile of us working together, she couldn’t hang, so I dropped her.

My new friend and I

I could feel us getting closer and closer to the city. Mile 10 ticked on my watch, and I refocused and saddled up for the final 5k. There was also another huge hill just around 10.25…I remembered Josh saying something about this hill in the car on the ride up. He mentioned it would probably be the worst hill on the course because of placement and the steep grade. Like always, he was right; the hill sucked. I reminded myself of the hill repeats I had done over the summer, and worked with a couple guys to get up it during the race. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the hill ended and I saw the 1:30 pacer in view.

“Just get over this hill…and go get that pacer.”

Miles 12-13.1: 6:22, 6:24, last .21 @ 5:43
This was it. The last two miles. I’ve worked on speed A LOT since coming back from my femur injury…so I had the confidence to kick it into another gear and hold on. I felt a little tired, but I was pretty shocked at how much turnover I still had in me.

“You still have to finish this thing, Mary…keep it together.”

I flew past the pacer with over two miles to go and didn’t look back. I wasn’t checking my watch, but I felt myself flying and getting faster and faster. I worked with another female up one last hill at mile 12, and put the pedal to the metal.

I had heard that the course would be a little long, but I wasn’t sure by how much, so I prepared myself for the worse. I saw the final .1 sign MUCH sooner than I had anticipated, so I ramped it up and sprinted through the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Arch.

happy happy happy. 🙂

FINAL 13.1: 1:29:00

In the weeks leading up to this race, I had totally romanticized the finish, and imagined myself being emotional and teary-eyed upon crossing the finish line. But there was none of that. I crossed that line, bent over one of the side railings to catch my breath, and said, “FUCK YEAH.”

Because I did it. I ran my own race and stayed strong until the end. This is why I run. To create goals and surpass them…to formulate a plan and execute…to train and get faster and prove my efforts…to finish a well-run race, and genuinely want more.

I said it after that 10k I ran in August and I’ll say it again here: I want more. I’m hungry for new numbers and paces. I’m excited to finally be healthy and actually moving forward instead of needing to nurse a new injury. I’m super excited to give my old PRs a run for their money this fall.

Blood Don’t Lie

Last summer, right before all of my injuries starting coming on, I noticed a company on Twitter called InsideTracker. I was in a place with my running where I was more or less plateauing, so I was intrigued to hear about a service that might help me get to “the next level” of training. (Spoiler alert: I was actually just overtraining and hadn’t recovered enough from Boston. Had I found InsideTracker earlier, I might have been able to recognize overtraining symptoms before things got out of control. You live and learn, right?)

The concept of InsideTracker was relatively simple: you sign up…you get your blood drawn…you fill out a thorough survey that asks you detailed questions about your activity level and diet…your blood results are emailed to InsideTracker, whose technology takes the results and measures them up against your unique “biomarkers,” garnered from that in-depth survey I mentioned. Then, InsideTracker provides dietary, nutritional, and lifestyle suggestions to improve performance and health and get your systems firing at 100%, or at their “optimal” level.

It isn’t a diet or a fancy weight-loss system; rather, it’s a technology that provides advice based on very unique and personalized measurements. And, like most things in life, the new-found knowledge is worthless unless you are willing to make conscious changes in the way you eat/sleep/train.

Bottom line: I was skeptical. A blood test is a blood test. How could InsideTracker be any different from a test my doctor could take?

I finally pulled the trigger and signed up for InsideTracker this summer, and I saw just how big of a difference there was between the InsideTracker blood draw versus my doctor’s.

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The Spring
When I was diagnosed with a femoral stress reaction in May, my doctor took a handful of tests. All results came back “normal” except for my vitamin D levels. Vitamin D helps the body absorb calcium, so the deficiency made sense. I was also tested for a myriad of other elements, such as calcium, iron, and B12. But while all tests might have been reported to me as “normal” for a non-active regular person; it didn’t necessarily mean that my levels were optimized to support my training and racing routine. I thought the doctor’s results were helpful, but I still had questions, and I knew InsideTracker would give me the info and guidance to have my questions answered from an athletic perspective.

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Deciding To Sign Up
I waited 3 months before being retesting my blood with InsideTracker. In that timeframe, I started taking a vitamin D/calcium supplement. I also continued taking a women’s active multivitamin, fish oil, and a small amount of liquid iron supplement. I also took 9 weeks off from running to heal my stress reaction, and I increased my activity of yoga, aqua jogging, ellipticalling, and biking. When I started up running again, the progress was very slow and modest.

My return-to-running had been steady for about a month before I signed up for my first InsideTracker blood draw. I had just PRed in my 10k the weekend prior, so I was starting to feel fit and fast again (thank god). My coach also suggested that the best time to get a blood tested is when you’re feeling your best. –It’s good to see where your levels are (even if they’re not perfect), so if you start feeling crappy, you can get another test to try to identify what’s going on.

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Pre-Test Instructions
There was a short checklist of things I needed to do (or not do) prior to my test:

1. No working out – I had a light recovery run scheduled for the day prior to my test. At the time, I was taking my rest days pending how I felt on a day-by-day basis; so I wasn’t sure when my next rest day would be. I asked my InsideTracker rep, Jonathan (who is AMAZING and so helpful, by the way), if a light recovery run would be okay, and he said yes. -Check!
2. No food 12-hours before the test – I scheduled my test for 9 AM, so it wasn’t too bad to eat a big dinner and then completely stop eating by 9 PM. -Check!
3. No alcohol 12-hours before the test – I don’t drink that often, but I accidentally scheduled the test for the morning after my wine and cheese club…UGH. This was a true test of self control, but I managed to go to wine and cheese club and only have one teeny tiny sip of Rosé. -Check!
4. Complete a survey on Inside Tracker that would indicate where my optimal blood levels would be once the results came through. The survey was broken up into sections: General (the basics…height, weight, etc.), Lifestyle (do you smoke/drink?…are you willing to take supplements?), Nutrition (how frequently do you eat certain types of meat or veggies?…how many cups of coffee do you drink?), and Fitness (what types of exercise do you do and how frequently?…what are your average running paces for workouts?). The survey seemed to be pretty detailed, and it took me about 15-20 minutes to complete. -Check!

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Test Day
I got a good night’s sleep, and by the time 9 AM rolled around the next morning, I was ready to rumble!

Getting the test done was easy and convenient: I visited the closest Quest Diagnostics facility near me, signed in, and waited only a few minutes before my draw. The only downside was the 9 VIALS OF BLOOD that needed to be taken. Yikes.

The upside is that I didn’t pass out (!!) from the 9 vials and I happily skipped out of the office, excited to get my results within a few days.

My results were ready 3 days later and I was eager for answers. Which tests were taken? What would my blood say about me? WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?! Stay tuned to find out and to see just how much I’ve learned and how InsideTracker has helped my running!

Femoral Stress Reaction.

I have a stress reaction in my leg. The femur. For those not familiar with stress-related bone injuries, a stress reaction is the precursor to a fracture. Meaning–the bone is almost broken. But not yet. Wikipedia tells me the femur is not only the longest bone in the body (And I’m 5’9″. So we’re talking long.), but also one of the strongest. From what I understand, it’s an uncommon stress injury but one that’s mostly found in runners. So uncommon but kinda common. Mindblowing, really.

This is a femur.

To say I’m upset is an understatement. I’m panicking. I’m disappointed. I’m dumbfounded as to how this happened. I’m pretty much freaking out. I’ve been told to do nothing for 4 weeks. No biking. No swimming. No yoga. No planking. Nothing. I can walk to get from point A to point B. I am not allowed to walk for exercise. I’m also getting a second opinion because I think this is an EXTREMELY conservative approach, and if I’m not allowed to do any sort of physical activity for the next 4 weeks, you might as well lock me in a padded room and watch me self-destruct.

I felt a tiny TINY niggle in my quad the week before Boston, so my second week of taper. Tiny. I’m talking, like, I felt it two steps into my run and it was gone. And then I didn’t feel it after my run at all. Had I known it was something in my bone, I would’ve canned Boston entirely. I was a little nervous about the pain, especially since it almost felt like my leg was giving out when I’d first step on it, but I chalked it up to a phantom taper pain. I’m experienced and cautious enough (like uber cautious. ESPECIALLY after last year’s 6-month injury cycle) that I really didn’t think I had anything to worry about.

The morning of Boston, my quad felt like it had been feeling all along–I had a few steps of light pain when I started the marathon, but it subsided quickly. I didn’t have any concerns. This Boston was, however, my most painful marathon to date. I started to have a lot of hip pain (which I assumed was from my torn labrum) around mile 22/23, and now I realize I was just likely doing major damage to my bone. I was fighting tooth and nail for my time in this race, and I think my leg just couldn’t take it, especially with the pounding downhills of the Boston course.

After the race, both of my quads were EXTREMELY sore, but I remember being super sore last year, so again, I wasn’t concerned. And just like last year, 98% of my soreness subsided within a couple of days…all except that distinct quad pain in my left leg. “That’s so weird,” I thought to myself. It was painful to walk and to go up/down stairs. I figured I had probably pulled my quad in the marathon. All those downhills, right??

All my friends told me to chill. “You just need to recover,” they said. “It hasn’t even been a week since Boston.” But I had this gut feeling that something was wrong. I couldn’t pinpoint the pain in my leg, nor could I feel it if I stretched my quad. The only stretch I would KIND OF feel it with was if I did the piriformis stretch where you cross one leg over the other, like the number 4. And when I did this stretch, instead of feeling it in my piriformis, I felt pain radiating down the front of my leg.

I also got a massage that did jack diddly. The massage therapist told me that my quad and adductor on the one side was super duper tight. Groundbreaking.

It wasn’t until the Saturday after Boston that I really started getting nervous. I had gone to the track with my friend Stephanie to do some strides, lunges, core, and we just wanted to enjoy the beautiful day. When I told Steph about my quad pain, the first thing she said was, “well, be careful. You don’t want to have a femoral stress fracture.” Stephanie is an MD and resident at Yale. She also ran track in college. So she knows a thing or two about running and the human body. She suggested I just be careful, and to maybe get it checked out.

(We also might have played with the steeple barriers. Maybe not my best decision.)

Wait, WHAT???? I didn’t even know that was a thing. A stress fracture in your femur. I mean, obviously it’s a bone and so, duh, it could be fractured. But I really hadn’t considered it, especially since I had been so cautious about taking care of myself this training cycle. I spent the weekend freaking out and contacted my ART, who knows me pretty well at this point, as we’ve worked together the entire time leading up to Boston. He, too, told me I just need more recovery time, and to contact him again if I was still experiencing pain 10 days post-Boston.

So I waited. The pain level hadn’t changed, which concerned me. I didn’t try much running, but the running I did was excruciating. That Saturday I was with Stephanie, I managed a few strides, a lap around the track, and a mile around my block, but that was it. There was a lot of limping involved. The next day, I cheered with my friends during the NJ Marathon, and it actually didn’t really bother me, so I thought I was in the clear. It wasn’t until I went on a slow 4-mile run a week later and it ached the entire time that I started getting really worried. At this point, it had been exactly a week and a half since Boston. I decided to shut it down, just to be super cautious.

Since over 10-days had elapsed since Boston, I also made that appointment to see my ART, who diagnosed a grade 2 quad strain. “Be patient, but you’ll be fine after another session of ART.” But I was still worried. The pain level just wasn’t changing or improving from day to day and it constantly hurt to walk and move around. So I called my doctor to make an appointment.

When I went back in to see my ART a week after my first appointment, I could tell by the look on his face that he was shocked that I still had quad pain. But he kept insisting that he didn’t think it was a bone injury, simply because they’re so freaking rare. “But, Mary, I think you should probablyyyy keep that doctor’s appointment. You know, just in case.”

So then I saw my doctor last Friday. And she didn’t think it was a bone injury either. But she ordered an MRI anyway. She didn’t even mandate an X-ray first. I enjoyed my weekend with the small sliver of hope that it was “probably just a quad strain,” –even though dancing at a family member’s wedding hurt, as did walking around. Still.

The MRI was Tuesday (yesterday) and my doctor called to talk to me personally about the results. “The bone has not cracked yet,” she said, “but there is swelling along your bone and in your bone marrow.” Then she pretty much told me not to move for 4 weeks. She wants me to have some blood testing, because two stress reactions in one year isn’t normal. It’s also a possibility that the tear in my labrum is finally just not able to support my body and rigorous training anymore, so other parts of “the leg chain” keep breaking. I’m hoping I will find some answers.

I’m thankful for a lot of things in this situation. I’m thankful that this is happening coming off of a peak race, where I’d need to be recovering anyway. At least this isn’t happening in August, you know? I’m thankful that I’ve already put the running on hold as soon as I felt that something was wrong, so I’m already into the healing phase. (To be honest, I’m actually shocked that the swelling even showed up so prominently on the MRI, since I haven’t even really run much at all since Boston. I guess that’s how bone injuries work.) I’m thankful for my friend Stephanie who even suggested that a femoral stress injury could be a possibility. Without her suggestion, I don’t think I would’ve made an appointment with my doctor as quick as I did. I’m thankful for friends and teammates who have listened to me bitch about this issue.

But I’m not thankful that this is happening. I just have so many questions and lack so much understanding about how this came to be. It all just seems so unfair that I could come back from one injury cycle and jump right back into another one. My training was smart. I ate right. I get my period (Sorry not sorry to mention this. Amenorrhea is a huge problem in athletic women and girls and it is very much a taboo topic, which I disagree with.) I slept 9-10 hours a night during training. I strength trained (though, I did let it slip when mileage got high). I didn’t think that my mileage jumps were too high (or were they?!). I take my vitamins. Hell, I even take a calcium supplement! In the next 4-6 weeks I hope to not only let my freaking femur get better…but I also want to figure out what’s going on and make sure I can avoid future bone stress injuries at all costs. Because having two in one year is just completely unbearable.

Boston

“It was different, that’s all. You were different [last year]. And you are different now. And the race took a different shape.” –said my coach after the marathon. And he couldn’t be more spot on. The Boston Marathon on Monday was SO much different than any other race I’ve ever run.

I posted here about not having expectations heading into Boston this year. When I wrote that post, I had a feeling my fitness might be close to where it was last year, when I ran a 3:08. But I thought that a PR would be a long shot. I thought that even coming close to a 3:08 would only happen if I had a magical day.

I’m not sure you can call Monday magical, but I SOMEHOW pulled it off. Another 3:08. 13-seconds slower than last year, but still a PR run in my heart.

Pre-race
One of my favorite moments of time are the days leading up to a marathon: there is so much excitement and so much potential for success. The training has been done and it’s almost time for the showdown. You’re with your friends, family, and teammates, and everyone is supportive of each other. This marathon weekend was no exception. The expo was great, my shakeout with Tara was relaxing, and I was REALLY really excited.

Told you I was excited.

Shaking it out. ❤

The night before the race, Josh asked me what I was thinking I might run. I really really believed I could be around that elusive 3:08, but with the impending wind and rain storm, I’d settle for a 3:11-12. I thought if shit really hit the fan, I’d be fine with anything under 3:15.

Then he gave me his magical goal number. The number that he gives me before all A-races. The number that has been right 98% of times I’ve run under him.

And that number was a 3:04 or a 3:05.

“NO WAY AM I GOING TO RUN THAT, JOSH,” is how I responded. But then I got really really excited, because Josh is usually right, and I knew that if he thought I could run a 3:04-05, I really could. He matter-of-factly replied that, according to my training data (combined with his 98% raceday prediction accuracy rate) a :04-05 was the time I’d run if the stars aligned and I had another magical day.

So I went for it. And I have zero regrets.

Race Day
I woke up at 5:30 after a restless night’s sleep. I ate a mini bagel with peanut butter and brewed a glorious cup of coffee to break my week-long coffee/caffeine fast. I didn’t have a race plan, but I would be riding the bus to Hopkinton with Josh, so I assumed he’d give me a plan then. Shockingly, I felt calm, but was a bit stressed about the weather.

Our Airbnb was only half a mile from the Boston Commons, which is where we boarded the buses to Hopkinton, so the walk there was relatively quick. I was in the first wave this year, and upon arriving to Boston Commons, I found myself surrounded by mostly guys which was pretty cool. There were exactly 3 girls on our bus, myself included.

Josh and I squished together on the bus and I waited until we were on the road until I asked about my plan. I triple checked with him that a 3:04/05 was actually feasible, because I still had a lot of disbelief. He reassured me that he was planning this goal time for a few weeks now, which really blew my mind, but I trust him. The plan was to hit the half at 1:33 or 1:34 and then chip away. So that would mean I’d need to negative split the course by 2-3 minutes, which didn’t intimidate me. I’ve run most of my races through negative splits (last year, I negative splitted the Boston course by 4 minutes) so there wasn’t too much newness to this run. The only difference in “The Plan” was instead of running the first 5 easy, I was to run the first 5k easy, lock it in for miles 4-13, then roll down through hills between 17-20 and into the city of Boston with as much heart as I could muster.

Well. It didn’t QUITE go according to plan. But I went for it, which I’m extremely proud of.

I lined up in the starting corral with Josh and started to get excited. I peed my pants a little in excitement, like last year, and thought it must be a good sign.

Miles 1-3: 7:14, 7:05, 6:56
Feel-wise, this felt pretty effortless, but I knew we were going downhill. I remember thinking that last year I ran this portion in the 7:20s and I marveled at how great low 7s felt this year. “This run is going to be different,” I thought to myself. I was determined to nail the new plan and score a PR.

I also ran these opening miles with Josh and I wasn’t sure what his plan was, so I tried to stick with him for as long as I could. I asked him if the pace was too hard for me, and he shrugged, so I just went with it.

We also ran into Amanda, who we hung with for a quarter of a mile, and it was a great surprise to chat with her!

The weather was a ticking time bomb. The inevitable was that we would be rained on and have wind in our faces. We just didn’t know when it’d happen. Thankfully, it held off for a while, and we had some great weather for the first handful of miles.

Miles 4-12: 7:01, 7:06, 7:00, 7:06, 7:13, 7:06, 7:10, 7:06, 7:08, 7:09
I hung onto Josh until mile 4 and I realized that it would be detrimental to keep running low/sub 7s, so I let him go. Shortly after that, I ran into another friend, Audrey, and we chatted for a few minutes before I continued on my way.

I took my first gel at mile 6 and then it was metronome time (aka: when I lock into a pace and just zone out, like I used to do as a rower). My legs felt fresh-ish, but I was a bit nervous to run an entire marathon at the pace I was going. I tried to push the fear aside. “You can do this,” I told myself. “You put in the mileage. Your endurance is off the charts right now. You’re fine. Trust the training.”

Mile 7 was when I first felt sleepy, and I think the adrenaline was wearing off and my nerves were starting to get the best of me. I tried to not monitor the pace too much, but it was hard not to. I started doubting myself. I specifically remembered this stretch of the course from last year because I was feeling so happy and amazing and it was so sunny and beautiful and warm…whereas this year, I was feeling cold and starting to doubt myself. And then, of course, the wind and rain started.

I decided to not look at my watch from mile 8 to the half. I told myself to lock it in, which is what I’m good at. My legs actually felt okay, so I tried to stay optimistic. “HAVE FUN, MARY!! HAVE FUN!” I realized I was so worried about my run, I wasn’t even having fun. At the Boston Marathon. I mean, come on, self!

Finally having a little fun. Just a little.

I was looking forward to the Wellesley girls because it was one of my favorite parts from last year. I started looking out for them at mile 12, and heard them well before I physically encountered them along the course. And they did not disappoint this year. Remember–I was running mostly among dudes because I had started up in Wave 1. The Wellesley Scream Tunnel was a MUCH different experience this year with the guys vs. last year and I couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off my face because it was so hysterical. Last year, there was 1 or 2 guys that went in for a kiss. But this year, it seemed like almost all of the guys I was running with went in for a kiss. There was even a guy who, after the scream tunnel, trotted back onto the course yelling, “6! I got 6 kisses! How many did everyone else get?!?! Haha!”

Thank god for those girls. It was just what I needed to loosen up. “Chill OUT, Mary,” I told myself. And I did. I truly wanted to enjoy myself, so I started going for the high fives along the course, watching the spectators more, smiling, and just enjoying the amazingness that is the Boston Marathon.

I took my second gel just before mile 13 but was also grabbing orange slices along the way too. It was cold but I was doing my best to grab either water or Gatorade at the aid stations.

First half – 1:33:32

It’s working. I’m actually running well. Smiles for running in the rain!

Wow. I was doing it. I actually nailed the first half according to plan.

Miles 14-16: 7:07, 7:14, 7:02

My legs started feeling tired around mile 14, which I thought was optimistic, because I remember feeling fatigued at the half last year. But I was actually starting to enjoy myself, so I don’t regret keeping the pace steady and soaking in the crowds.

I had also been wearing a throwaway rain jacket around my waist. I had been putting it on/taking it off through the patches of rain because I figured it’d be important to stay warm and dry for as long as possible. At mile 16, I knew it was almost time to get to work, so I threw it aside.

Miles 17-20: 7:10, 7:16, 7:05, 7:15
Last year, I got through this portion by not looking at my watch. Back then, working the hills felt light, lovely, and effortless. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel as fresh this year, so my splits were not zippy. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it was my head. Maybe I needed more hill training. Maybe I went out too fast. But whatever the case–the Newton hills were really hard this year.

BRF = bitchy running face

I do remember feeling excited that the hills were finally HERE! To me, the Boston course is a 16 mile warmup to the hills. So I felt relieved that I had arrived to the toughest portion of the race with my legs still attached to my body.

The first hill is, in my opinion, almost as bad as heartbreak. You go down this steeeeeep decline and then a really long and steep incline over I-95/Route 128. The wind here SUCKED, and I felt myself working hard. This is where I let myself push. “This course is YOURS,” I told myself. “You are so much stronger than last year. This is about a comeback and here’s where you prove it. This is for YOU.”

We crested the top and I panted out loud, “ok, 3 more. Just 3 more.” I took my third gel at the top, but I also tried to grab an extra one from the aid station, just in case I’d need it. I successfully grabbed one but immediately dropped it, so a tall man running next to me gave me his. I asked if he was sure, and he was so friendly and told me, “yes, of course!! Good luck, have a great race” …so I sped off. God bless runners.

The second hill wasn’t too bad, but I was dogged by the third one. I stayed super positive, but was definitely having a hard time. The rain was pretty intense here and I felt like a wet rat. UGH, GET ME TO BOSTON.

Heartbreak hill: 7:40
Oooooof. That. Sucked. So. Bad. It snuck up on me pretty quickly, and I remember feeling relieved that it was finally here. But it was terrible. Absolutely terrible. The wind was blowing straight for my face and I did the best I could to barrel up the hill. I was tunnelvisioning and just needed to be done with it.

Tunnelvision and thoughts of death. Thanks, heartbreak.

I got to the top and felt a wave of relief. The worst was over–or so I thought.

Miles 22-23: 7:03, 7:08,
“This is it,” I thought, “This is where you get your PR. Take it home and negative split this bitch.”

With 5.2 miles to go, I was at 2:30:11. I knew a 3:05 was still in reach if I could throw down 6:50s or lower, like I did last year. I still had hope, especially since the remainder of the course was mostly downhill, but I was also hurting a lot. I opened my fourth and final gel at the top of mile 22 but I was starting to feel nauseous. I tried to sip it slowly, but my stomach said no. I threw it away and reminded myself that I’d be okay since I had eaten a lot of orange slices and a few bites of banana from the crowds along the way.

Passing BC is another one of my favorite parts about the race. I looked out for Ellen, whom I know from camp back at home. I was really happy to see her, especially since I was hurting so badly.

Mile 24: 7:14
At the top of mile 24, I knew I just needed to hold on. I was spent. I knew 3:05 had slipped away, but I was still hanging onto 3:06-07. “You have the endurance. You ran 77 miles in a week during this cycle for god’s sake. You can do this,” I thought. I felt the rain and wind pick up. I’d close my eyes in pain for a few moments and trudge on. My quads were screaming. My bad hip was hurting. My glutes burned. I felt a blister forming under one of my toenails. So I started looking to the crowd for support. I’d lock eyes with someone and their screams would carry me for a few steps, until I could find someone else. I looked desperately for Gabe, because I knew he’d be in the crowd somewhere.

I had 3.2 miles to go and never lost hope that I could get back down to a 7:00 split. I didn’t, but I’m really proud of the way I hung on for dear life and just RAN with every ounce of what I had. I might have lost a PR in these last few miles, but I gained so much more. I ran my first gritty, painful marathon and didn’t let go. I stayed positive and never lost sight that I was still running a sub-3:10 on the Boston Marathon course (in a monsoon, nonetheless). An amazing time achieved after an injury that plagued me for 6-months. A run that FAR surpassed my expectations after Josh had told me in February that this Boston wouldn’t be about PRs–it’d just be about getting back into shape.

I just needed to hold on…so I did. No pace checking. No watch obsessing. Just RUNNING with every ounce of what I had left.

Mile 25: 7:07
Sweet mother of pearl, FINALLY, the Citgo sign. We climbed another baby hill that felt like Mt. Everest and I kept telling myself to hang onto that PR. I had a fleeting thought of, “what if I DNFed right now??” because the pain was excruciating, but I hung on. “You can’t stop now,” I thought. “You’re going to make it, so you might as well just keep running.”

Mile 26-26.2: 7:30, last .38 @ 6:44
I had zoned out and suddenly, instead of seeing the Citgo sign, I saw the sign that said, “1 mile to go.” We followed the swoop under Mass Ave and, unlike last year, it felt like a legitimate mountain. Thank god Gabe was there, and he had recruited about 10 people to scream my name to get my attention. Despite the pain, it made me so happy, and I remember telling myself to force a smile and a wave.

I didn’t realize how soon after the swoop we’d turn right onto Hereford, then left onto Boylston. This was it. It was ending. I was finishing a marathon. This might sound nuts, but I had been in so much pain and so dialed in over the last 10k that I almost forgot I was running an entire marathon. I said, “oh my god,” as I saw the finish line, and then repeated it, just to humor myself. It was POURING and I couldn’t wait to get out of the rain and cold. My quads started shutting down and SCREAMED at me as I ramped up the final sprint into the finish line.

Don’t be deceived. I look 110% better than I felt.

FINAL MARATHON – 3:08:47

I stopped my watch and stumbled through the finishing chute. I immediately thought, “shit. I didn’t do it,” and kneeled down next to a guardrail to stretch out my quads and catch my breath. It was still pouring, and I started shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

Then, I started crying.

I cried because it was over. I cried because I thought I had failed. I cried because I was so ridiculously cold and miserable. I was confused whether I should be sad or excited: I hadn’t achieved Josh’s projection, but I did achieve my goal of coming back from injury and running a strong race. I took a deep breath and collected myself. I got back up, and realized that a few seconds off my PR was not something to be upset about, especially after the shitstorm that was 2014. A sub-3:10 marathon in the deluge/wind storm that was the 2015 Boston Marathon. I took the risk and was rewarded with a 3:08 marathon. A 3:08 marathon?!?! Holy shit! This might as well be a PR! As I got back on my feet, I thought, “Oh my god, I fucking did it.” A guy I had been yo-yoing with the entire race noticed my Oiselle tattoo/outfit, and as he walked past me he said, “nice job, Oiselle. Really nice job.” He looked impressed. And he was right. I was so proud. I did it.

I blubbered some more as I stumbled to get the medal. Once again, like last year, I found myself ugly-girl crying as the volunteer looped it over my head. A large part of me considered going to the med tent because I was so cold, but I REALLY wanted to find Gabe and get a hug (and a hot shower) because it was all over.

As I walked towards the Boston Commons to pick up my bag, I couldn’t help but think, “omg, I’m really back, aren’t I?” I was in complete disbelief. I’m where I was last year, if not stronger. Going into this race, I thought I was CLOSE to last year, somehow, even though the training wasn’t nearly as intense…but I truly didn’t think that another 3:08 would be the outcome. As miserable as I felt in the moment because of the cold and rain, I started to get excited about summer training. I want more speed and I want stronger finishes. I’m hungry for the next level. Except this time, I’m so much smarter and stronger–both physically and mentally. The comeback isn’t over yet. This is just the beginning.

Thoughts Before Boston

And just like that, we find ourselves less than two weeks away from the Boston Marathon, which is so hard to believe. This will be my fifth marathon and second Boston Marathon, but one that, for me, has much more personal emotion tied to it than last year’s race. Last year was a culmination of 18 months of hard work. It was the finale of this 18 month journey of picking up running, hiring a coach, losing over 25 lbs., and taking running from a casual hobby to a lifestyle. The specialness of last year was even more intensified being the first anniversary of the bombings, and I still feel so lucky to have been part of such a significant day.

This year is completely different.

This year is about a comeback, and I’m not just strictly talking about coming back from injuries. At one point towards the end of last year, my coach said to me, “you haven’t been yourself for quite a long time, and you need to do what’s best for you and get her back.” And he was completely right.

I was gone for a while. I was tired. I was stressed. I got hurt–mentally and physically. I was PR-greedy. I was overzealous. I hated running. I hated a lot of things going on in life. And, slowly, things started to fall apart.

So this training cycle has been about enjoying the process, and getting back to a place where I am happy, confident, healthy, and strong–both inside and out. I’m showing up on that starting line in Hopkinton after a rollercoaster of a year, and I’m so ready to close the book on last year and truly move forward.

The Training
I won’t beat around the bush. Who doesn’t love to hear THE GOAL!!!! THE BELOVED TIME GOAL. What time are you going for?? What pace will you run?!?

HAHA! The good news is that I won’t lie to you, because I really don’t have an answer. I don’t have a time goal, not really. Last year I ran a 14-minute PR and a 4-minute negative split. A 1:36 first half and a 1:32 second half. A 3:08. The course was my bitch and I loved every inch of those Newton hills. I should have won an award for getting the most high-fives along the course, and I’m astonished I had enough energy in the last 10k to sprint down the hills in front of the drunk BC College kids and scream, “GET EFFED UP!!!” (Sorry not sorry. My adrenaline was on an all-time high.) I started training last year with one goal and one goal alone–to break 3:10. And I did. It was a magical day and the best run of my entire life.

This year, the training has been COMPLETELY different, and I expect the race to be just as different. In total, I dabbled with my multiple injuries for 6 months, and eventually took 1-1/2 months totally OFF from any sort of working out. So, for this marathon, I went from zero to high mileage in 4 months. It was SCARY. Like really really scary. In the beginning, I had frequent runs where I still felt my shin ache, and I thought the world was ending and I’d never be able to run again. Not to mention that I still have the peronal tendonitis that lead to the stress reaction in my shin. It’s an issue that I know I can’t ignore or else I risk another bone injury. So I get a lot of ART, changed my footwear, and started running in orthotics. (I also started getting more sleep, which has done WONDERS for my legs.)

So. Where does that put me? Well. The weekly mileage for this marathon has been low. It averaged 32 mpw from December through February. The workouts during these early months were few and far between, and mostly consisted of fartleks and a handful of slower track workouts. There were a lot of XT and rest days and the long runs were shorter. I really started getting to work in March, but only in the sense that the track workouts got more intense, the fartleks went away, weekly mileage went WAY UP, and I had a handful of small progressive tempos. The long runs during the month of March actually felt great. I felt less fatigued than I have in past marathon cycles, which was super optimistic, especially since my weekly mileage went up, peaked at 77, my highest ever, and I had a second week of 72 just before taper (2 weeks over 70 mpw = also something I’ve never done before.)

At the end of the day, despite the lower intensity of this year’s training, I don’t feel TOO far behind where I was last year. Ultimately, I will be satisfied with a strong, confident, negative split race. Time-wise, it’d be great to be in the general vicinity of my PR, but being over 3:10 will be just fine with me. I’m not gunning for a PR. My sights are set for the fall, and I want to really make it count then, so I don’t want to do anything stupid here that’s going to jeopardize my chances of being healthy, fast, and strong when I need to be.