This post is a mix of emotions for me, so it jumps around a bit. I've always been faithful and put my trust in God, but it wasn't until a church service a few months ago that it really hit home that He is the ultimate healer. A woman (and her two daughters) testified to how prayer had healed her of her illness. I fought back tears because I wanted so badly to be healed and be back to normal. Something clicked in me that day and I realized that God would heal me. It would take a lot of hard work on my end, but I knew He would be with me and would give me the strength and energy I needed. I have been asking him repeatedly to use me as a testimony to what He can do.
When I was cleared to run in December, I decided to slowly start ramping up and begin marathon training in January. I figured if the training was going well and I thought I could finish a marathon then I would sign up about half way through the training. I knew from my doctor's warnings that my paces would be off and not to expect to be close to my old times. I ran a 5K in January and was 2 minutes off my PR with little training, so I found that encouraging. I felt really good at a 10K in February, plus marathon training was going well, so I signed up for the Carmel Marathon in Indiana. I bonked at a half marathon after signing up for Carmel, which was disappointing, but I didn't read too much into it because I ran it on tired legs. I was happy to see that my heart rate held constant during the half even when I got tired because that was a concern of mine going into the marathon. I was afraid as I got tired that my heart rate would run even higher. The half was a good test for that and gave me a little peace of mind. I had a cardio appointment a few days later and my doctor was shocked at how well I was doing.
I was really happy with how training went. I followed the Hansons Marathon Method and ran more miles for marathon training than I ever have (just under 700 miles). I really enjoyed the plan and went into Carmel feeling very optimistic that a 3:35 (BQ) or better was possible. I had hit all the training times for a 3:30 marathon, but set my goal at 3:35 since I wasn't sure entirely what to expect with my blood pressure/heart rate. A PR seemed like a very lofty goal, but a BQ seemed reasonable.
My only concern going into the race was a low back issue from traveling in a car for 10 hours a few days prior. Thankfully, Jason's friend, who we were staying with, is also a chiropractor and let us use his office so I could get adjusted. That gave me a decent amount of relief and made me feel like I could make it through 26.2.
Race day came and I felt ready. Not many people knew I was running and that was how I wanted it. Temps were in the mid to high 40's at the start, but were expected to climb into the mid to high 60's fairly quickly. I had plenty of Powerade gels and had my Ultima/salt mix in my handheld, so I felt good that I would have the race fuel I needed. I quickly settled into race pace and felt like I was just jogging; the miles quickly ticked away. I took a gel at miles 4.5 and 9 and made sure to stay on top of hydration. I had been tracking right in front of the 3:35 pace group through mile 12 and dropped back into the group to have company for a while. We hit the halfway mark in 1:47:20, which was right on goal. I was feeling decent, but knew the last half would be tough.
I finished my bottle around mile 15 and refilled with just water because I knew Jason would be at mile 18 to give me a new handheld with my mix in it. I hadn't taken a gel since mile 9 because I had no desire to intake anything (my stomach felt a bit bloated by mile 10). By mile 16, I couldn't hang with the pace group anymore. My desire to hang on was overtaken by my desire to throw up. A wave of nausea hit me around mile 18 so I sat down for a minute or two with a cop and took a s-cap in hopes that would help. I had a layer of salt on me so I was worried that my sodium level was low. Once the nausea passed, I kept on trucking because I knew Jason was nearby. He ran a mile with me and I managed to jog for about four miles until somewhere around mile 22 when the tiny string that was holding everything together finally snapped. After running for over an hour wanting to throw up, I finally did. I sat down for a bit and started moving again once I felt okay. I knew I didn't have too far to go until I saw Jason again. My goal was to make it to him and then walk the last two miles. My upper body was so tight that I couldn't do more than walk because breathing really hurt, but I knew I could finish. I threw up again at mile 26 and all I wanted was to be at the finish line.
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| Mile 26 |
I finally finished, way off goal pace (4:27:04), but I finished and I am grateful for that. Back in September, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to run marathons again, so each day I'm able to run, whether it's a good run or a bad run, I'm thankful. I have no idea what went wrong. I know I needed more fuel, but just couldn't take any in by the halfway mark. I'm not sure if I had too much salt, or not enough, or maybe I drank too much. If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know as I need to figure out what went wrong! (Notes on the race - I would run it again. Shirts & medals were nice. Good snacks after the race. Great course - really pretty parts & *should* have been fast! No gel/gu on course and powerade was red, which stains.)
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| HUGE medal! |
God still has a lot of work and healing to do with me. I know He's working in me, for me, and through me. So, while I may not like how Carmel ended, it's not "The End". It's part of my journey, part of my testimony, and the best is yet to come.
"But the Lord stood with me & gave me strength." - 2 Timothy 4:17
"God is within her, she will not fail; God will help her at break of day." - Psalm 46:5
