Maine Marathon Race Recap
3:02:13! Crossing the finish line yesterday, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude, joy, and shock that I had just completed my first ever 26.2. A little over a year ago I was told by my cardiologist that running might not be something that could ever be a part of my life again—especially not racing. I am so beyond grateful to God for making this possible, teaching me patience, and for leading me back to running when the time was right.
Going into the race, I truly didn’t know what goals to set for myself. I trained hard and gave everything I had to this training cycle, but didn’t want to set myself a concrete time goal in the event that it took away my ability to enjoy the race. To add to the race nerves and anxiety, I came down with bronchitis about a week prior to race day, which increased the feelings of self-doubt considerably. A few different goal times bounced around in my head, but I ultimately knew that if I went out there, gave it my all, and crossed the finish line, I would be happy with my performance. I truly am in utter disbelief with how the race went (for better and for worse), and am already itching to do another (kind of).
The Maine Marathon setup is interesting. The full marathon is sent off at the same time as the half marathon, so the starting corral is bustling. To continue to add insult to injury (or respiratory illness, I should say), my period arrived—yep, you guessed it—while I was waiting for the gun to go off in the starting corral. With nowhere to go and no time to address it, I waited for the clock overhead to click to 7:45, and started running. I found myself settled into a large group by mile 2, which also happened to be the point in the race when I realized that my shoes were a half size too small. I had trained in New Balance Fuel Cell Rebel v4’s for the entirety of my training cycle without an issue, so it felt quite comedic that mile 2 of the race itself was when I learned that I was in fact a 9.5, not a 9 in running shoes. Nevertheless, there was nothing I could do about this now, so I tried to push it out of my mind and continue on.
As I settled into the race, I felt confident in the group that I was running with and like things were turning around; I was hitting my splits, my legs felt great, I felt strong. Suddenly, things quite literally did turn around—at least everyone I was running with did. We had reached the halfway point for the half marathon, and suddenly I went from a group of about twenty people to completely solo. Trying not to panic, I glanced at my watch, reassured that I was still on top of my splits. I made the mistake of picking other people to run with, rather than running my own race. Now, I was in no mans land, with 20 miles to the finish line.
I definitely do not think I really felt like I settled into the race until mile 10, as I was mostly in shock that I was running a marathon and the reality hadn’t set in yet. I spent miles 6 through 10 trying to pick people off, hoping I would eventually catch up to a new group. Despite how sparse it felt, the energy was unmatched, and every spectator I interacted with along the course was so supportive and optimistic; I couldn’t help but smile throughout every mile. I definitely hit a wall at mile 23 (DEEPLY lost contact with the glutes and the hamstrings) so I truly entered the pain cave during those last three miles and kind of felt as if I had forgotten how to run. As much as it hurt, I finished strong, and couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.
I owe a lot to my lovely friend Morgan Uhlhorn, as I re-listened to her podcast throughout my taper leading up to this race, which so deeply inspired me to love every mile and really focus on each mile I was in. When I started hurting, I reminded myself to be present, focus, and appreciate my ability to run. I wanted to be as present as I could in every moment, as I knew that as much as I was hurting, I was going to miss it the second it was over. I am also so grateful to my family and friends for walking through this season of life with me, and for cheering me on every step of the way (special shoutout to my dad for sending me racejoy cheers the night before the race rather than on race day). This weekend was one of the most special moments of my life thus far, and I am sincerely at a loss for words to express my gratitude.
This race was truly beyond anything I could have ever imagined, and I could not have asked for a better event to try my hand at the marathon distance. The crowd support was absolutely insane, and there were so many times throughout where I had to stop myself from tearing up in disbelief that I was here, I was healthy (mostly), and I was running the race I had spent the last five months training for. I am still in shock and riding the race-day high after an unforgettable weekend with Susie and my mom (who both CRUSHED the half marathon, by the way!) and could not be any more grateful that I got to share in such a special series of moments with the two people who trained through this training cycle with me and made me believe in myself through their belief in me.
I am so grateful to God for a healthy body, for my ability to run, for helping me find purpose through hardship, and joy in the waiting. Never give up on your dreams, my friends. You are capable of anything you set your mind to!