The days leading up to, and the morning of, the race were all pretty normal and mellow so I will fast-forward to about mile 10. I had started the race right about the pace I wanted and had settled in with a nice pack. We were clipping along just a few seconds slower than goal pace. I was fine with it being a little slow since we were running into a decent head wind and the second half was supposedly going to be a tail wind so I could make up time there. I went through the half at 1:25:28. A little slow, but still not in the danger zone just yet. At mile 16 a few of the girls and I threw down a 6:17 mile. OOPS! We all looked at each other and simultaneously said "Too soon!" Most people (normally that would include me) panic a little having run too fast, too early. I took it as a good sign. Since I started conservative and at this stage in the race I could run a 6:17 mile, I clearly had something left in the tank and that was encouraging and motivating. We backed the pace down slightly, so we thought. We went through mile 17 at 6:35. SERIOUSLY!? I honestly thought we were right around 6:25! By mile 18 I had to make a choice. Go now or for sure miss your goal. So I took a chance and I went.
One of the other girls in the group had made a move, too, so I used her to pull me. The next couple of miles were 6:19-6:25 ish. Then, around mile 22.5 I went through an aid station and came out with lead for legs. CRAP! I still had 3.5 miles and ZERO room for error. I went through mile 23 & 24 in 6:41 and 6:44. The easy thing to do would have been to tell myself that I fell off pace, that I had no chance of running my goal and to just make it through the last 2.2 miles. But when I hit mile 24, I got mad. I got angry and I got moving.
Earlier in the race I had seen a sign that said 'Do Something Epic,' For whatever reason, that popped in my head and I said "Erin, GET THE F**K MOVING!" I had 2 miles to go. 2 miles, piece of cake! (HA! Right.) I pushed and I pushed and kept telling myself to catch the next guy, and the next guy, and then that ponytail, and then the next guy....
As I brought my pace back down, the crowd was telling me to keep going and keep moving and push harder. The crowd was so loud I could hardly hear my own thoughts - which, let's be honest, the last few miles you don't really want to hear them anyway!
Finally, I turned the corner to head up "Mt, Roosevelt" and I knew I was only a minute and a half from being done. I had stopped checking my watch because time and pace didn't matter anymore; what mattered is that I wasn't giving up. I finished in 2:50:56 - my second half being exactly the same as the first, 1:25:28! I took another 1:40 off my time and I am that much closer to the OT Standard.
After I finished I ripped off my shoe and sock because I had such a bad blister on my left foot the last few miles I couldn't stand to keep my shoe on anymore. I found a friend who was working the finish line and immediately asked how Allison had done. For those of you who don't know, Allison is a teammate I have been training with and who ran a 2:39! When I heard her time I swear I could have screamed as if I had run that fast myself! She was shooting for an OT standard and she got that and then some!
The marathon is full of trials and tribulations and no matter how fast you run it, you are constantly tested. What makes the marathon so great is that the people who finish have overcome those tests. They pushed, they struggled, they hurt, but they finished. They may not have hit their goals, but they didn't use that as a reason to quit.
Going into Chicago I was feeling my strongest and my healthiest. I had excellent coaching from Coach Dad (who ran a 2:59:16 at the age of 51!) and killer strength workouts from The Ranch Athletics. Thanks for making my PR possible!
As Always It's a Runderful Life!
