This is not the post I wanted to write (again).
I don't want to be writing a sad, discouraged post about everything that went wrong in my race, and how frustrated and discouraged I am to be putting in so much work and effort, trying to do everything right, and not getting the results. I don't want to be thinking about how much is hurts to think that you aren't as good as you think you are. I don't want to make a bunch of excuses. I don't want to post a bunch of inspirational quotes, promise I am getting "back on the horse" and will come back faster and stronger after this setback.
I wanted to be writing a post about kicking butt, setting a new PR, finally breaking through this plateau, and how amazing it felt to run a killer race. I wanted to be able to say, "I am back! See?!!! Hard work and determination pays off!!"
I know people want to know what happened. The short version is, I went for well over two years without having a period. I know that is a bad thing, and is my body's way of saying that something is off. I worked hard at getting my body what it needs, and two months ago I got my period again for the first time in almost three years. And I got it again a few days ago. Race morning I was hit with killer cramps and resulting GI distress. We were promised "plentiful portapotties" in the start corrals, but the lines were ridiculous, the race was starting, and I had to just start running despite a definite need to "go".
I ended up in a portapotty in the first mile of the race. It is pretty discouraging to end up having given up over two minutes in the FIRST MILE, but I think I did a good job in keeping my mind focused and relaxed, not stressing, telling myself I had plenty of time to make it up, and easing into goal pace. That worked for a while, and then I had to stop again. And again. By mile 15, despite having run decently well until that point, my A, B, and C goals were out the window and any time I pushed the pace my stomach revolted. I felt awful. At mile 16 I gave up. I cried. I walked. I walked and cried. I sucked it up and ran again and my feet cramped. I walked and cried. You get the idea.
I connected with an awesome girl named Jill who was also having a rough race. We walked together a little bit, jogged together a little bit, and then got separated. With just under two miles to go she came up behind me again, and we decided to run it home together. We ran in together, and it was an awesome thing to connect with another mom and another runner and to support each other into the finish.
Despite the race, it has been a wonderful weekend. I have had so much incredible time with Josh and my parents. I have gotten to spend time with Coach Doug in person and have gotten to know him much better, and I am a lucky girl to have him as my coach (and I know he will help me get through this and over this). Meb WON the USA Half Marathon Championship which is the best, and Joey D'Eramo, a guy that Doug coaches, ran his FIRST marathon in 2:40. Seriously We are SO excited for him. Three girls I coach ran very well in Houston this weekend (one set a killer PR of 3:49!). I have met some great people, had a lot of fun, and am very grateful for this weekend.
It's time to do some reevaluating. I am not quitting. I am not giving up. There are 13 weeks until the Boston Marathon and I will be there, ready to race. I want to change my story, move on from this chapter, and not write any more posts like this. Right now though my body, my mind, and my heart need to do some recovering.