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[byoungernj]

Berlin Marathon 2023

Oh baby was this trip a lot of traveling and not a lot of seeing. From my first flight, as noted in my last post, this trip was not meant to be. It started with a 3 hour delay on my layover in Denver. Once at the airport, I found out I had typed my name into my itinerary wrong so it did not match my passport. An error I had to work through four separate times. Then we reached out gate to find out our seats are not the ones we paid extra for. I didn’t sleep a minute on the overnight flight. We arrived in Dublin with only 90 minutes until our next flight took off. If you have never traveled to Europe before, once you arrive you have to get your checked luggage and then make your way through immigration, bag check, security, the whole thing. On paper, Dublin looked like a small two terminal airport. First it took us almost an hour to get our bags. Then we were sent up and down and back up to find the walk way to the other terminal where our next flight would leave out of. Side note, in Europe apparently there is floors 0, 1, 2 etc… so when we were directed to floor 1 and went to the bottom floor, we were stared at in confusion why we did not understand where floor 1 actually was. By the time we walked (because there is no other way, as we were told) to the ticketing counter, our flight was set to leave in 5 minutes. When was the next flight? 10 hours later. I was so exhausted and irritated at this point I feared that if we set out to see Ireland something else would happen and we’d miss the new connecting flight. After many hours attempting to fall asleep to no success we boarded and landed in Berlin. The train would take an hour and it was now midnight. I sucked it up and got an Uber. (If you know me, you know I am not an Uber/Lyft person) We finally got to our hotel. I was emailed instructions to input a code next to the door and a key would be available. But was it? You bet it wasn’t. I googled how to call a European number from an American phone after multiple failed attempts. Within five minutes a lovely gentlemen let us in and provided me with my key. After almost exactly 24 hours of travel and being awake for 32 hours, we went to sleep. And you bet you a3s I did not set an alarm. Which ended up being both bad and good because we caught up on our sleep, but we slept until 2:30 in the afternoon the following day. Thanks to terrible travel plans, we lost a day and a half in Berlin. 

Now that I’m done throwing a pity party I won’t go into more detail but in short

we attempted to find a bus tour for over an hour to find out that they were not running due to the marathon route closing streets

we got on said bus tour two days later and it was nothing special

we did think to purchase tour tickets ahead of time so we saw zero things we had hoped to see

another ticket hiccup, the train was now double the price to get to Munich and we didn’t end up saving anything by not flying out of Munich

we had planned to see one or two more things in Berlin our last night but the train back from Munich took over an hour more and dumped us out at the farthest train station from our hotel

the hotel ordering our taxi a half hour early and the driver refusing to leave because his fair had been running the morning we were departing

the cherry on top was just after I called my dad to tell him where to pick us up, I reached into my backpack only for the shot glass I bought him to fall and shatter

Ugh okay. Enough wallowing. This is meant to be a race recap. The moral of the story - plan plan plan before you travel to Europe or you’ll go all the way there and not see anything like dummy me. So, the race. Talk about the brightest shining moment of this whole trip. (I wrote a quick training recap in my last post if interested) I snuck in my tune up workout back on my hs track between gym classes before we departed NJ. I clipped off a bit faster than goal MP but felt good and in a rhythm. Luckily I had an off day planned for our never ending day of travel. Once we finally woke up on Friday I headed out for a short run along the Spree. I went through the neighborhood our hotel was in and passed this adorable Jungle Book themed playground. The trail was this wonderful dirt path that went through a park. I was tired and moving however fast my legs let me. It felt good to move and stretch afterwards. We headed to the expo in the late afternoon. Talk about the coolest venue, Berlin’s expo takes place at the Tempelhof airport which was used after WW2 by the US to deliver goods when Berlin was split by the wall. The parts of the expo were outside and it backed up to a park where there were people running, skating, and riding bikes. Inside was your typical assortment of vendors. We finally shared our first meal in Berlin at the multiple food trucks that had there. The next day I had a quick 20 minute run back on the Spree followed by a few strides. I smile now reflecting that I didn’t want the run to be so short. I wanted to keep running. I had enjoyed this build so much that I didn’t want it to end. The legs felt about the same, I was physically a bit more tired but ready for tomorrow.

I slept for a bit the night before after struggling to sleep the prior night due to jet lag. Waking up the morning of the race wasn’t too bad. With a 9:15a start time, I only needed to wake up at 6 to eat. I hoped on the subway to head down a few stops. I laughed at the reaction of the local young girls on the subway as a swarm of short shorts wearing, bright colored, awkward runner types all got on the subway at the same time. I followed the crowd off and towards the start. It was a bit of a walk but the weather was perfect and I saw the only corgi witnessed on this trip. I knew it would be a good day after I saw that loaf of bread. The holding area was huge. Bib numbers were given based on your last name so my bag drop was the furthest spot away from the actual start. I sat for a bit, wrote 5k splits on my hands in eyeliner and a special name on my wrist to remember how this trip was possible. Luckily enough I saw a friend of mine. She had gotten in via the lottery and her husband by time. We spent a few minutes catching up before we all needed to drop our bags. The race was encouraging 20 minutes to walk to the start. Here is where the mayhem began.

The start/finish is within this large park in the middle of the city, the Tiergarten. There were plenty of signs directing everyone to their respective start corral which was noted by letters. You followed winding dirt paths with the masses. When I got closer to the ABC start areas I noticed a small green space people were warming up in, so I did the same. After I continued to follow the masses. I could physically see the start area but the path went directing into 3 very long lines of people at portapots. People had now started to cut through the brush and trees of the park to find a way around. Which then turned into people scaling the very tall fences along the start area. A handful of other people found an opening in the fence but this still required us to climb up and over a shorter barrier. Not exactly what I want to do minutes before starting a marathon but here I was. After that debacle I found space within the B corral, did some leg swings and waited. A shared a brief moment with a girl maybe a bit younger than me on my ‘Running On Hope’ tattoo and how wonderful a person Gabe was and the organization is. The 10 minutes I had passed very quickly. They announced some of the elites, including the goat himself Eliud and gosh did the crowd of us go crazy. Then, we were off. 

It took me around two minutes to actually cross the start. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of space I had right off the line in the roads. We were spread on both sides of the median which then split us around the beautiful Victory Column statue. Actually the entire race had plenty of room across the roads. I never felt stuck. As for the specifics of the race course itself, I honestly don’t have much memory. It was flat. And not oh my legs hurt after a while because there’s not change in terrain, because there was small ‘hills’ that I wouldn’t call hills but they were so subtle I didn’t know until I went down the back side and my legs felt better. There were a lot of turns in this course. A LOT. Hence why I don’t remember much. The spectators lined the entire course. I was pleasantly surprised that a lot of people also cheered for you by name (which was on my bib). At first I thought it was my mom encouraging people around her but then it kept happening. My favorite was when one little kid would yell my name and then their whole group would follow. I took some opportunities to high five some kids as well.

I was able to hit pace right at the start. After a few miles this did start to feel fast. I chocked it up to it being a bad patch and kept pressing forward. I came through my 5k slower than desired but found myself right back on pace by 10k. Just before 9 miles my watch started to act wonky. When looking down to see how close I was to getting my gel out, I saw I had split a 5:14 ninth mile…which I have never run once in my life. Mile 12, was a 1:38 mile. I was now flying blind for the rest of the race, I didn’t know if I could trust the gps. The 5k splits on my hand were started to wash off with my sweat so I made my best guesses based on what I knew my initial 5k goal was. At half way I still felt as though I was running too fast. I told myself keep pushing at this pace until 16 than see what happens. 16 came and went and I kept plugging away. This course only had Maurten as their electrolyte drink. The first aid station that had this, I grabbed one, took a few sips and hated it. Not long after that my stomach agreed, it hated it too. I stuck to water at every other aid station after that. I remembered I had drank to much in Duluth so I tried to space out my fluids. I was taking Ucan gels every 4.5 miles and those don’t require water to digest, so pairing my intakes was not an issue either. But after those first 16 miles, my stomach started to feel a bit off. I was able to take down my forth gel at 18 but my nausea now persisted. In fact, it only got worse as the miles clicked by. 

I started to do some mental math, where did I need to be with 10k and 5k to go to still be under three hours? and was this still in the cards today? It wasn’t a do or die time goal as it had been before, but it would be nice and I knew I had it in me. I was looking for the 32k sign and it never came. Looking at my watch, I was behind where I needed to be. Oh well I thought, let’s enjoy the rest of the day as I knew I’d finish. But then the next k sign was in sight and it was the 33k sign. I was still on pace and in fact, ahead of pace. I believe I literally said “oh sh!t I’m still in it” out loud. I was taking it one k at a time. As much as I wanted water, I chose to not take in any, hoping that would calm my stomach a bit. But it didn’t. I was so nauseous. The thought of taking anything in made me feel worse. Just make it to 5k to go and reassess. Just as before I was looking for the 37k sign but I missed it again. I knew I had slowed so now being off pace would not have surprised me. But the 38th k appeared and I was still under! I disregarded my last gu. There was no chance I was risking throwing up when I was still on pace. But I continued to slow. More mental math. Where did I need to be with 2k to go and still have a chance? I’d give myself 10 minutes and push with everything I had in the last 1k. At 40 k I had 13 minutes to make it. I tried to push. The nausea increased. There was no getting rid of it. Just finish. I made the final turn and the Brandenburg Gate came into view. I stay far to the left and followed the blue line for the shortest route to the finish. I tried again to push. No go. My legs had the life but my stomach was running the show now. The distance from the gate to the finish felt like forever. I wasn’t sure I’d make it. (Also running under that gate was super cool) But I had overestimated. Next thing I knew I was right there and had two minutes to spare. Unlike Grandma’s I had the space to take it all in. My hands instantly went over my heart. I was going to do it again! With my hands in the air I crossed the line with weak, screaming legs. 2:58:55, a PB by 47 seconds. 

Oh the nausea. A few steps passed the finish, I wobbled and my hands found my knees. Holy crap did I want to throw up. I didn’t make it very far until I veered off to the side and was on all fours for quite some time. I have no clue how long I was there. After a few failed attempts to kneel upright, I walked a bit farther. I needed water. My mouth was stuck shut. I downed two glasses of water and my stomach yelled back. Gosh was I thirsty but it was so uncomfortable. I decided to sit in the sun and hope for some relief. Again, I have no clue how long I sat there but I was able to get another cup of water down. I had to make the long walk back to my bag. I had to take my medal off at this point. It was directly over my stomach, smacking it with every step. I got 3/4 of the way there and had to sit in the grass again. I let the sun start to warm my body and the stillness help digest whatever the heck was so pissed off inside me. Minutes passed and I took my time segmentally getting up. One more push to get my bag and find my mom. Naturally, as soon as I sat down at our meeting spot I looked up to see her sitting not far off from that spot. I stood to embrace her but instantly had to sit back down. I had nausea in Duluth but nothing like this. As we sat and recapped the past few hours, I tried to find positions that made me feel better. It took time but I was able to get to my feet. 

I had heard that Tracksmith was in Berlin, stamping free posters with our finishing times. We made our way onto the subway and over to their space. To my surprise, olympic medalist Nick Willis was one of the people stamping posters. My nausea thankfully had subsided and I helped myself to a free beer as we planned our trip back to the room. By the time we got back to the room, it was 3pm. Now back on wifi I read the wonderful messages back from everyone in the states that were now awake. I called my dad to share in the ventures of the morning. We spent the rest of the day taking our time around a museum and at Checkpoint Charlie. I can’t even describe how wonderfully I slept that night. 

As mentioned in my previous post, I loved this build. On the train back to Berlin from Munich (of course we went down to Oktoberfest, duh) I found myself smiling and longing for the next one. I loved challenging myself in new ways. Again I was struck by nausea which slowed my second half. I was also at the mercy of a dysfunctional watch and no pacer. What does this tell me - I can most definitely go faster. 

I loved Berlin. Besides the mayhem that was getting to the starting line, everything about this race was wonderful. I loved Germany. I would 100% go back. Now I’ll take some downtime and build up for a half in late April. I’d like to train specifically for the half, which I’ve never done. I don’t have plans for a marathon for at least a year. I need to get more settled into life in Portland. I have 4 of my 6 Abbott WMM stars. Tokyo is the next one I’d like to do but is notoriously is hard to get into. If I don’t get into 2025, my next marathon wouldn’t be until summer 2025. Honestly, I’m not sure I can wait that long so who knows, maybe it will be sooner. 

[byoungernj]

Berlin Training & Life Changes

I’ve been in the Denver airport now for 5 hours. My flight was suppose to take off on time. We waited for a few passengers who had delayed connections. Then we waited 45 minutes for their bags. We finally pull away from the airport and a light comes on in the cockpit. We deplaned, re-boarded a new plane and waited for all of the bags/cargo to be moved over. I have my fingers crossed that these will be the only travel hiccups I experienced in the next 48 hours because I am Berlin bound tomorrow! 

To avoid an 8 or 9 month delay again I’m taking this time to recap my training for Berlin because a lot of life happened in these past 20 weeks. This spring I took my time coming back from that nagging knee pain/injury I had in the fall during my NYC build. After a number of weeks off and no change in pain I decided to say f it and power forward. I would be in SC for 2 months for a clinical so maybe the change of scenery would help. (Apparently it did because I’m happy to report I’ve been pain free for months) I started studying for my PT boards while in SC and felt instantly behind. Everyone’s advise was to stick to the school provided review book but I felt very under prepared. Worse, my final clinical at home wasn’t the best. It required 3, 15 hour days with a commute and clinic hours, plus another 7 hour day. It was tough to balance clinical, studying, and working part time. Our family had some personal stress occurring during this time as well that made free time very important to spend together. Heading into April I was stressed beyond my limits. To put a cherry on top, a week before my exam I found out someone has my SSN. The first week of May I was back in Slip for graduation week. Needless to say I sweat through a few shirts the days the results were predicted to come out and when they did, oh boy were there tears of joy. I think I laid on the floor for a solid 45 minutes catching my breath. I capped off the first week of May with graduation and had a dream job ready for me in Portland, OR. To add some spice to my life, I adopted a puppy. And not just any puppy, a baked potato, bread loaf, fluffy flipping CORGI who is so perfect he can’t be real. 

Dream job in the one place I have been dreaming about living in for years, check.

Dream pup I had wanted since I went to grad school the first time, check. 

Start training the week after graduation for my first international marathon, now loading.

I spent just about the first half of my build in NJ, with a 2 week stint in Colorado while I volunteered at the Oly Training Center. I decided to test myself this go around. After I broke 3 hours I struggled with what would be next. I’ve already achieved my overarching goal, let’s see what these legs could do. I had been training to run 6:50 pace for a long time. So you know what would be a good challenge, trying to run 6:40 pace. I would take old workouts and add a mile here or there. I didn’t want to overwhelm myself with mileage but I wanted to start trying more. 

The most humbling workout was at the hand of altitude. I had 800s planned while in Colorado Springs. I’ve never done internals at altitude. The tempos I had done the week before went well but this was an entirely new monster. My first 200 meters would be perfect and every rep, like clock work, at 240 meters my legs would burn. I mean FIRE. And it wouldn’t just be in my legs, coming through the 400 my arms would burn. Never in my life have I experienced muscle burn in the water pistols I call arms. My times were not great. They were not bad. But I got my butt handed to me 8 times.

The first real test was the week I was set to move. The goat himself Craig-a-roo joined me for 2x5 mile at MP. With his perfect sherpa pacing we cruised through right on pace. It was exactly what I needed heading into the second half of my build. I spent 6.5 days on the road, with a 4 month old puppy. While on the road my first stop was in Slip for a wedding, which was a nice send off. I ran in a teeny tiny town south of Chicago, along the Iowa/Nebraska border, in Cheyenne Wyoming and Ogden Utah. Wyoming was my least favorite state to drive through, it’s what I imagine the bottom of the ocean to look like minus the water. Driving along the gorge separating Oregon and Washington on the final day was beautiful, with a quick stop by the Multnomah Falls. I was able to run each day but had to trash my workout. I had planned to do so the first morning in Portland. But when I set off I had found the hilly-est route in Beaverton. I scrapped it, made it a fartlek, and called it a recovery week. I swapped that workout a few weeks later and it went just fine. A week after the change, I crushed a workout on the track. I quickly considered myself back on track…pun intended. 

Training Oregon has been a dream. There is ZERO humidity. Well, maybe there is a little but when I’m used to 90% and in the upper 70s-80s out, low humidity and 60s feels magical. With recommendations from my new boss, I found these beauty of a trail that is 22 miles long and mostly shaded by beautiful green PNW foliage. Along the Willamette is Sauvie Island, which is a runners paradise made famous by Shalane herself. It’s an island sandwiched between the 2 sides of Portland, filled with farms, no traffic lights, no disruptions, and flat as a pancake. Once my tempos got into the double digits I would head over the bridge to Sauvie as the sun would come up. Gosh have all of those miles been magical. I’ve been amazed at my legs ability to hit paces. The only workout I laced up the super shoes for was a 12 mile tempo that turned in a half marathon PB. I’ve closed workouts with volumes of 10+ miles with sub 6:10 miles. I’ve been excited to push myself in ways I haven’t felt before. Even my worst workout 2 weeks ago, I shrugged off because I know the effort didn’t hinder my prep. This new found ‘do what I can’ attitude is pretty nice. 

Berlin is now 5 days away. Will I attempt to run 6:40s for the whole thing? No actually. I’ve found I’m pushing a bit too hard to sustain that pace for all 26.2. But 6:45-6:50 is doable. And that would still be a PB. Have I also accepted that I am traveling to a country I’ve never been to before and if life happens then okay. Just get to the finish line and get your fourth star. These past 4-5 months have held big life changes, all for the better. I’ve fallen deeper in love with marathon training. Life is happening and I’m here for it. But first, a quick pit stop in Jersey. 

[byoungernj]

NYC Marathon: Part 3

I had heard from multiple people to expect the Queensboro Bridge to be quiet and to be ready for the roar on 1st ave when I come off. I was so immersed in what was going on, it didn't occur to me that I was on THE bridge until about half way across. I was looking at all the elite bottles that had been dropped, peaking to see if any of them had names. There were some big names up front and it was cool to remember I was following behind. Things were quiet but it's NYC quiet, so there are plenty of sounds. I had listened to a podcast telling all things NYCM. On that episode, they spoke of the banners with letters/numbers on them that helped medical staff identify exact locations if someone was in need of help. This was the first place I noticed these banners and I nodded in my head a well done. I would love to work on a major marathon medical team one day and it was cool to know this fun fact.

We made a 180 degree turn and onto 1st we go. I have to say, I was actually sort of disappointed. The noise was not at all what I had hoped. It was loud, don't get me wrong, but I'm sure there were parts of Brooklyn that were louder. So much so I heard my friends off to the side for the first time. I posted a quite comical series of photos as I tried to cross the street. 1st ave was extremely long, luckily I had known this as well. (Thanks Ali On The Run) I did get to see the lovely Alyssa and Kelly of Brave Like Gabe. I ran over to them and then awkwardly stopped, not wanting to hug them in my disgusting state. It was somewhere near the entrance to the Bronx that I noticed my pace start to slow. I was extremely pleased with how far I had run at my pace so I was fine with the slower effort. By this point, no matter how much water I was drinking it never seemed to get rid of my thirst. And now, it was making my stomach a bit uncomfortable. In the Bronx I had that magical ice cold water and was sad that JLo was not there to welcome us all.

Quickly we were back into Manhattan and down 5th ave we went. This is where the race started to get uncomfortable. I was hot, soaked, dehydrated (or so I felt), and I still hadn't seen my mom. I took things 1 mile at a time, trying to catch any runners who were coming back to me. There was a light rain at this point but you couldn't tell. People were setting off confetti cannons and playing music. This was where we needed it the most. We were following along the side of Central Park. I was past 22 miles but those last few miles felt so far. I knew we went into the park and back out, I had also heard the hills were awful. To tell you the truth, they didn't bother me. Maybe that was because I hadn't truly raced that day, or that I embraced the much slower pace I was now slogging through. I got to see friends again and people watch as the miles went by. With over a mile ago I finally heard a familiar voice, it was my mom. I cleared across the road and presented her with the most disgusting hug. I was now in the home stretch with the support of my people.

It was in this final mile that I took a moment to remember everything that got me here. This was my 10th marathon. A fun number to celebrate. I had finally broken 3 hours and was now in a new adventure with the marathon that was freeing. I had raced for fun. I had raised just over $1000 for an organization that I feel very deeply for. I thought of every person who had supported me in some way. Of course Craig for being my guiding light and friend through the many years since I met him. The many individuals who shared miles with me - Megan, Kemmer, Katie, the 520 crew, and many more. The people who provided words of encouragement when I needed them after a disappointment - Kaela, Kara, Sweeney. Friends who had traveled with me to races - Leslie, Maggie, Crystal. Everyone who had donated and supported the great cause that is BLG. Chelsea for housing me that weekend. I thought of Gabe and how sad I am that I never met her but so thankful that her life goals continue on in others. That I had this opportunity to honor her. To my parents and brother for putting up with my rollercoaster 'hobby'. Lastly to me. To me for sticking with this crazy race. For putting my goals out there, failing, and getting back up. For wanting to continually challenge myself to be better. For not giving up.

Back out of the park and along the southern boarder we ran. A quick step over the curb and we had made the final turn back into the park. The finish line is lined with flags of every country represented. Up high, pictures of past winners. I smiled when I saw Shalane. But as we got closer it was a bit underwhelming. I thought the same with Chicago. Now that the elites were gone, so had the fans that had grandstand access. There weren't as many people out yelling and celebrating. It's a bummer they don't allow more people in once the masses come through.

I neared the finish. Heard Ali Feller yelling out names and got a glimpse. She's my favorite podcast host and such a joy of a human that it was cool to see her in person. Now for the long waddle out of the park. It was actual quite nice. The road was shaded, we had bags full of snacks and water. They still gave out the 'heat' blankets but there was no way I was putting that thing on. It was soft on the inside and the last thing I needed was the weight of my sweat in that thing. I stopped for pictures with my medal, showing off the BLG logo in the shot.

I had planned to meet my mom at Levain Bakery. Once there, unfortunately there was nowhere to sit but I called her to give her an update. Now looking back, it's sort of funny that she got 'stuck' in the park. 1 volunteer told her she couldn't cross the course and that sent her on a goose chase, going in circles without any luck getting out. Finally someone told her to go ahead and cross...about 30 minutes later. For someone who prides themselves on knowing NYC, it made me laugh. Chelsea had found me at this point and they helped guide each other back together. She met me with clean dry clothes to change and we all sat down at the closet bar - the usual post race burger and cider for me. Next thing I know we are on the train back to Hoboken. I was a bit bummed that for the first time I hand energy to celebrate but we were already out of the city and back in NJ. I still got my ice cream once back in TR.

It was really weird being back home, with my baby boy Finn the evening after I ran a marathon. It felt so underwhelming. I had run the NYC Marathon. The biggest race in the world and it felt like just another day. But it was special. What a way to see the city. What a large celebration of people of every color, age, gender, etc coming together to have a party. I think I smiled the whole way. I'm glad I waited until NYRR brought the whole field size back. NYCM is back and I'm excited to see which one of Megan's friends runs it next.

So what's up next? I'm 6 weeks out from running Berlin. I've never been out of North America so this will be so fun. It's a delayed graduation gift to myself for sure. 'Prost!'

[byoungernj]

NYC Marathon: Part 2

It was now the night before the race and another preschool friend completed the crew. We went out to dinner and caught up. It had been a long time since the three of us were together. Both of them commented on how different I was not stressed out. #Sub3NewMe After I laid everything out for the next morning, I got a decent amount of sleep. It was an early morning but I was excited. The only not great thing, it was suuuuuper humid. It was one of the hottest NYCM on record. Maybe even the hottest. Once at MetLife, I didn’t wait in any lines as I jumped on the bus to the start area. It was a quiet bus ride. I thumbed through my phone most of the way since it was dark outside. Next thing I knew we were on Staten Island. I made a rookie mistake and had thrown all of my things in a shopping bag. We had to pass through security to get into the start village and I was told I needed my provided clear bag. Whoops. So out everything came and into my pockets it all went. Oh well. 

The start village was huge. It is sectioned off into three colors and then your start corral is a letter within our color. The village is at an (old?) military base that is now a national park. I was the farthest location so I was able to peak into all of the different areas. There were so many people! After about a half mile walk I settled into a spot along a fence to read a magazine and put my feet up. I was enjoying simply staring at the Verrazano. I don’t spend time comparing bridges for fun but the Verrazano is my favorite bridge. It was so majestic in the early morning hours. There was a therapy dog area in each corral. I had seen a gorgeous golden on my way in but it went into a different corral. I was a bit bummed to see the dogs in mine were small and scruffy, not my idea of cuddly and calming. I mostly people watched as I sat. There were a number of ‘famous’ people within the running world I saw walk by. It was cool to see all of the different people that were about to take part in the worlds biggest marathon. And I could tell this was a well oiled machine. 

As the time approached for the wheelchair and handicapped divisions to start, I noticed the cars on the bridge disappear. I couldn’t see anyone from where I was but it was so cool when the first start gun fired, everyone in the village cheered. When the Achilles’ team headed to their start corrals, everyone applauded. It was such a joyful environment to be in and I was glad I wasn’t taking this race as serious as I have in the past. I was finally enjoying the moment I was in.

After a quick warm up, my wave was headed up to the bridge. I was pretty bummed that I was to start on the bottom of the bridge. In the long run, it did have an advantage of blocking the hot sun for the first mile or so. But it would have been super cool to be on top. We got to hear the pro men’s field be announced and head out. Followed by NY, NY in its entirety. In a moment, we were off as well. I didn’t have any pace plans. In my mind I thought it would be awesome to keep my BQ streak alive but also knew that my knee was cranky and my training was very abbreviated. I was surprised to see a 7:10 cross my watch at the mile mark. I gave it up to first mile excitement. Already passed the mile I was pouring sweat. I had to braid my pony tail while running, imagining the knot it would be if I left it. We came off the bridge and it was quiet. We would later join the people from the top of the bridge but for now, it was cool seeing the handful of people on overpasses and in windows cheering our group on. 

I fell into a rhythm around that 7:10 mark. I was very surprised. It felt comfortable. When we merged with the other runners, we were still separated by the road barrier. I couldn’t get over how many people there were, both running and on the sidewalks. At times the road would narrow and the crowds were on top of us. It was awesome. Brooklyn was my favorite. We were in that borough the most but it was the loudest. Queens brought with it music and dancing. The Bronx may have been my favorite actually. People embraced the sterotypes with ‘welcome to the bronx, now get out’ signs. Honestly, they also had the coldest water and that was big time. 

The rhythm I had found in the first few miles was still going through when I got around half way. I tried to say some encouraging words to those around me but they did not come with any echoed feelings. I was passing people who were struggling in the heat. I was soaked only a few miles in. I felt their pain. But for the first time, I was running a race for the joy of it and it felt good. I took in the people and the sights. There were people hanging out of windows, on rooftops, police officers taking part in the parties. Despite the heat, it was still a festival. 

[byoungernj]

NYC Marathon: Part 1

9 months isn’t too late for a race recap, right? I had the honor this past November of racing the NYC Marathon for the Brave Like Gabe Organization. NYC was another race that I had registered for in 2020. NYRR did a beautiful job, allowing me to chose which of the 3 following years you’d like to defer your registration to, receive a refund, or donate your fee. I didn’t want to run the year after the pandemic. I didn’t think NYC would be back to full force and I guessed right. 2022 returned the field size to 50,000 runners, many of them apart of the 2020 deferral group. I was hoping my 2:59 in Duluth would get me into the sub-elite field. Even the individual who responded to my submission said I had a very good chance of getting in. But it turns out everyone else who ran fast had the same idea. No fancy pre-race treatment for me. Oh well. 

While training for Grandma’s I had sustained some sort of knee injury. It had been manageable during the remainder of my build but once I started ramping up for NYC, it came back with vengeance. Due to my insurance and my fall clinical schedule, I wasn’t able to seek any medical care so I gutted it out. (I know, as someone who working in sport medicine I should practice what I preach, but at this point in my life I was surviving day by day.) Luckily NYC was about raising money for BLG and getting to the finish line. I gave myself a very abbreviated build up, running just enough miles to know I would finish the race. I was hoping to raise around $500 but made my fundraising goal $1000 after seeing what the other 14 or so ladies were hoping to raise. Members of the group were from all over the country and Puerto Rico. All of us were inspired by the wonderful human being who was Gabe Grunewald. Though I have no ties to Gabe, I became very invested in her during the last few years of her life. Her husband selflessly shared her final days with the world and I sobbed at the news of her passing.

When thinking of what organization to raise money for, I wanted a small group that I would feel confident in. With BLG I knew all of the money was truly all going to rare cancer research. Once I received word back from the organization, I was on a zoom call with the executive director. She shared what others were doing to raise money, what the expectations were for me (which were different since I had a non charity bib), and ways that they could help me achieve my fundraising goals. I was connected with the group of women and was inspired to hear all about their ‘why's’. I can’t say enough good things about this group. I continue to receive thank you and holiday cards from BLG and felt as though I was truly apart of something bigger than myself.

Getting to race day was nothing fancy. I did a 10 week or so build up where I built miles up to 22. After that run I knew I’d be able to make it to the finish. I sprinkled in some workouts for what would be my goal marathon pace the next serious go around. I was in full internship mode from August to December paired with working on the weekends, so there was little time to commit elsewhere. The nice thing was, I was okay with that. This was finally a marathon without any expectations. Except maybe meeting my fundraising goal. Fundraising is strange. I don't like nagging people or asking for money. But I have some fantastic and selfless humans in my life and I’m happy to say that by race day, I had surpassed my goal. I can’t thank all 29 of you more. 

One of those magical humans lives in Hoboken. A friend of mine sine preschool was gracious enough to let me stay with her for the marathon. (She even drove me to the buses before the sun came up!) I went up to Hobo Friday afternoon and got settled in. Saturday morning would be a quick run than off to the expo. I took the ferry over which put me right infant of the Javits Center. I arrived just before they opened and had fun people watching everyone in line. Some people clearly had been to the expo already, as they were decked out in head to toe NYC Marathon gear. Others were chatting about nerdy runner things. Some looked like they had never been to a running event and were very out of place. Once inside, it was pretty neat to be at one of the very first booths to get my bib. I never took a second to realized though I had not gotten into the sub-elite start, I was still seeded with a very fast race in a field of 50,000 people. Go me :)  I walked around the rest of the expo and spent way to much money on race clothing. Next it would be taking the subway to meet up with the BLG crew at the finish line for a photo.

I met up with another BLG member who was in a boot, but still in the city to cheer everyone on. She had been a long time member of BLG. We attempted to navigate the subway and miserably failed. Long story short, we went the wrong way. Got on a train in the right direction but the wrong one. Then after waiting for a long time, realized that the train we wanted wasn’t running that day. We walked a number of blocks later and then through the park to get to the finish as people were already leaving :( I spent some time meeting the two women overseeing the weekend as well as a few other members. We received this beautiful drawing of Gabe done by the very talented Jacqueline Alnes. The finish line was buzzing with runners and spectators. It was nice to be relaxed and take it all in. But I was getting hungry and hot. I figured out the subway back to the ferry and took the short ride back to Hoboken. 

[byoungernj]

Life & Grandma’s Marathon: Training and Race Updates Part 1

Eight years later. Seven failed attempts. Depression. Injury. Moving to five different states. And so so many tears and a lot of anxiety. It took me going back to school full time, working three jobs, and balancing training for everything to come to fruition. I can finally say my marathon PB starts with the number ‘2’. On June 18th, at the Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth Minnesota, I ran a 2:59:42. But just as quickly as it happened, the moment was gone. To say I am still riding a high would be a lie. The days immediately following the race was very strange. But before all of that, there’s so much to look back on.

My OP injury recovery ended up taking a little over a year. I spent the entire first half of 2021 progressing through a walk/jog program and returning to a minor 40 miles a week. I took the entire fall semester to reintroduce workouts on the track back into my legs and pelvis. I jumped into a few workouts with the cross country team that were so so fun. I forgot what training with a team is like and didn’t realize how much I’d missed it. I even ran a cross country race. It was a great escape from coursework and the three part time jobs I took on. I took time around finals week off, which was weird since there was no race that caused my break. I took my time building back up and turned my focus to Grandma’s Marathon training. The initial few weeks were spent back in NC due to a clinical and it was fun to revisit old roads that I had spent so many miles on. I got to say a proper farewell to a few places I couldn’t run one last time before moving. I was running pain free and happy, which is all I could ask for. Shalane Flanagan won the NYC Marathon after she had a major back injury. Des Linden won the Boston Marathon after she nearly stepped away from the sport. Going into this race, I wanted my Shalane moment. A major victory after a large set back.

I knew training in Slip was going to be different than anywhere else I had trained. So far all of my marathon training predominantly took place in flatter areas that had warmer climates year round. Now I was up in the hills and snow of western PA, a complete change from what I was accustomed to. There was a road that in college, we would do some wild workouts on that rolled pretty good. I decided to use that same road for all of my workouts since it didn’t have to much traffic and it was familiar. But man was it rough. Some miles I spent more than half of it going up hill. The last mile had one long drawn out hill that made your legs feel like lead weights no matter how good of shape you were in. What I am very proud of is how much fun I created for myself during training. I helped coach the distance athletes so I got to travel to meets. Myself and the other volunteer coach would run once we got to the meet or at our indoor conference meet, I ran from the hotel to the track which was so wild and refreshing. I ran from my apartment to Cooper Lake and back, where I used to race cross country in college. Something I had heard of guys in college doing and I finally got to do. Reading back on my logs I had a lot of mental stress that didn’t help to decrease the physical stress I was inflicting on myself. But I’m super proud of my head space. So many of my workout entries bring up at least one positive of the day and take into consideration the daily stress that I was going through. This is something I’ve never consistently done in the past and definitely something that kept me relaxed week to week. For instance, the workout I did after the Pittsburgh Half was a disaster. What did my entry say? – Welp, can’t win them all. ?? Who is this Becky? I like her. Oh the half! I had always wanted to run this race when I was in college. It was so fun. I saw people I went to college with, a friend I met during my first ever marathon, the course winded through the city which I never truly got the chance to explore, and I felt great! But details are for another post. What was the cherry on top, I tied, to the second, my PB from City of Oaks three years ago when I felt as though I was in the best shape of my life. I definitely had a workout half way through training that I commented I felt was my break through point. That point where you finally feel ‘in shape’. A week or two after the half I did a 12 mile tempo in NJ and rolled. I averaged 6:45 and was able to close in a 6:34. I remember feeling so relaxed and in control.

Then all of the sudden it was race week. I had a rather large exam the day after I returned from Duluth so my focus was already on that. Within the 2 weeks leading up to race day we had 5 days of an intensive course, lasting the entire day which was wild. I spent the prior weekend working all three days as usual, luckily avoiding grunt work at the brewery but I was still on my feet a good bit. I made sure to prioritize what I was eating, instead of rushing through meals. I made sure to make what time of day I was running the most important detail of my day. I will admit, having school as a main distraction was super helpful. I didn’t have to time to overthink anything. In fact, I didn’t pack until the night before which is not like me. During my final tune up I was up at the track alone. I glided through my miles and in the final lap, I found myself smiling. I didn’t miss a workout. I had made it through after thinking I’d never complete another build up. I was so grateful, joyous, and so so excited to get to Minnesota. I even ran two extra strides and envisioned cross the finish line victorious. (Time wise of course, I could never win the thing)

Thursday morning I ran nice and easy and then of course was running late to take an exam early. I was in class for a brief period then off to the airport I went! It was my first time flying since fall of 2019 and my first time back at the Pittsburgh airport since 2011. On the drive to the airport I had moment where I let out weird, loud noises of pure excitement and anticipation. It was hilarious to me and anyone driving by definitely thought I had issues. But reflecting back this brings me so much joy because I don’t know the last time I’d felt like that. I had planned to stop into the Fridays in the airport for some pasta I saw on their online menu only to discover there was no pasta, nor was there any form of Italian food in the entire airport. (!!!) I managed to persuade a nice man to make me a plan grilled chicken sandwich with a side of egg whites to hold me over. I had a direct flight and found the lovely Maggie at baggage claim once in Minneapolis. Oh gosh was it good to see her, it had been so long! Now I was truly on ‘vacation’ and couldn’t stop smiling. We both were so hungry and stopped at a Buca di Beppo. I had heard of this chain but never actually ate there so it took me a moment to realize everything was ‘family sized’. Oh well, a bowl biggest than my head it was!

[byoungernj]

Life & Grandma’s Marathon: Training and Race Updates Part 2

We then set out on the over two hour car ride up to Duluth. Maggie rented us a pickup which was super funny and surprisingly didn’t pose an issue getting in/out of after the race. It was a beautiful ride. I love traveling with her because she notices amazing, small details in nature that one without her background wound never notice. Everything was so green and the drive was so easy, filled with easy flowing conversation and catching up. We stayed just across the edge of Lake Superior in Superior, Wisconsin. It was fun to go back and forth between the two states all weekend in a short 5-10 minute drive. I don’t think I had any impressions of what Duluth would be like. It was a tiny old town, definitely blue collar, built into a small hill side. It didn’t feel like a city but it wasn’t suburbia either. We both enjoyed relaxing that night, I took an Epsom salt bath, and we got up the following morning for our shakeout. Then it was time for me to study (and take an online quiz, ugh) and her to take two meetings. Again, having this distraction was annoying yet nice. It made the marathon seem like just another part of the day. After our adulting was done for the morning we went off to see Duluth and go to the expo. You immediately get a small town vibe when you enter the expo. There were predominantly local vendors, race merchandise, and even a ‘pork product’ table giving away meat thermometers! Maggie had bought a ticket to the spaghetti dinner they had, which lasted the entire day and was open to the public. She got hers to go and we went back to the truck. Parking is very interesting with a pickup and I do not miss navigating that thing.

I hunted down my own dinner, which why is it so hard to find plain chicken breast and rice at restaurants?? Then we called it a night. I started using CBD gummies just before the pandemic and boy were these a big help. I wasn’t able to sleep more than I usually do, there was a lot of dozing and then I’d wake up when I’d realize I was falling asleep. But the gummies kept me calm. When I panicked at the site of the clock around 1 am, I didn’t have that sinking gut feeling I know all too well. I got a little bit of sleep and we were both up before we knew it at 4am. While getting ready, I wasn’t nervous. I had this calm feeling to me, paired with pure excitement. This race had multiple locations, including one in our area of Wisconsin, for shuttle pick ups to the start. We drove the quick 5 minute ride over to UW Superior’s campus and got on what may have been the second bus out that morning. Lucky for us, it was a coach bus so no early morning school bus ride for us.

We chatted on and off on the way and I tried to take in the sights around me. I have only been to Minnesota once before for work and didn’t see much of it. The sun had come up enough and it was a clear, calm morning. I was jealous that the half marathon went off at 6am since it was going to be warmer than I wanted while we were out there. The forecast called for sun and 60 degrees, with the most glorious tail wind the entire way back to Duluth. We pulled into the back parking lot area of a car dealership. We were amongst the first bunch there. The entire lot was surrounded by portapots, the sun was still coming up over the trees, and it was a calm beautiful morning. We found a spot up near the edge of the lot to sit and relax. I enjoyed people watching since runners are some of the strangest people and proud of it. We had read the day before that we were told to be in the starting corrals an entire 45 minutes before the start of the race. This completely blew my mind but I had to be prepared for this. It was around that time we started to notices the lines for the bathrooms had now grown all the way back to where we were and we were surrounded by a lot of colorful shoes and socks. I decided to do my warm up with just enough time to go drop off my bag and get into the corral.

There was a group of people who had the same idea as me and were running back and forth along the front lot of the dealership. My legs felt nothing special. Not heavy but not light, not slow but not springy, they felt content. I wasn’t nervous which was weird, it was as if this was just another part of my busy busy week. I mazed my way back to Maggie and we started the walk towards the bag drop off which was at the back of the final ‘corral’ area. There were now formal corrals, just signs with pace per mile that you were aiming for. In true Minnesota fashion, you were kindly asked to line up at the right spot. But to our surprise, as we turned to start walking up the corral, there was hardly anyone in them. No announcements being made that we must line up now. So Maggie walked all the way to my spot with me. We wished each other luck, I gave her a was to enthusiastic hug, and she was on her way. I noticed a few people outside of the elite group doing strides beyond the start line. I took the opportunity and was able to get just one in before we were asked to return to the corral. There was an option to take the train to the start. Sure enough lined up just beside us was this train with family and friends on one of the cars. I started to eavesdrop on some guys next to me about there being a pacer and where he might be. Just before the gun went off a guy with his stick and balloons showed up just behind me. He told those around him he is trying to run completely even without banking any time. Perfect. He had run Grandma’s a few times before but this was his first time pacing it, though he had paced many marathons before. I tucked in right behind him and when the gun sounded, I fought off the men around me to stick right behind him. The start of the race was a combination of the gun and the blow of the train whistle, which was preceded by a fly over. Can’t say I’ll ever hear that again. Just like that, we were off.

The first mile felt a bit challenging and sure enough we came through around 6:33. Then we settled in. The early miles were going by so quickly. It was a clear day but the only shade was on the left side of the road. Trees lined the view of Lake Superior so when the lake did peek through it was gorgeous. Early on I already felt hot. I was sweating during my warm up so I knew today I had to be careful. Around mile 3 I started to take sips of water or Gatorade at each aid station. I hoped that starting early I wouldn’t have any dehydration issues in the hot sun. Before we hit 10 miles I followed the pacer to the left side of the road and ran under the shade as much as I could. There was a small dirt/crushed rock area that a few people were running on but I didn’t want to fatigue my legs anymore and chose to stick on the roads. I remember the pacer complimenting my purple shirt and shared that it was his mother’s favorite color. It made me happy and reminded me I was in this with Craig. He got me here and he was going to get me under three.

Between focusing on taking in fluids every other mile and when to take my gels, the first half of the race flew by. Around mile 10 I found myself a few steps in front of the group. I had a bit more room on the road but kept the shadow of the balloon stick over my left shoulder. Just before the half marathon mark we hit my favor part of the course. There had been small groups of people along the course so far. Some people set up picnics in their driveway, one guy sat at the end of his driveway with a cigar and his golden retriever, another old man played the trombone, it was such a laid back atmosphere that now looking back probably kept me as relaxed as I was. But just before the half mark, there was the largest group of people yet. They were so loud. One guy stood almost in the middle of the road dancing and going insane for this entire group of random strangers. I couldn’t stop smiling, it was wonderful. We came through the half in 1:29:31. It took me a minute to comprehend why there were so many clothes on the side of the road just beyond his group of people. The half marathon had started an hour before us and they had yet to start clean up. That was something that surprised me the entire weekend. The cleanup seemed to be an afterthought in Duluth, which was in a way refreshing.

[byoungernj]

Life & Grandma’s Marathon: Training and Race Updates Part 3

I continued to keep pace just in front of the group, glancing over my shoulders every so often. The sun was warm and I had continued to take down fluids. My legs felt great, I didn’t feel fatigued at all. The views continued to be breath taking of the blue water through deep green trees. I heard someone point out that we can now see the cityscape and that around mile 20 is when we get back into Duluth. Around mile 15 or so all of those fluids started to catch up with me. I had some flashes of nausea and realized I should scale it back. I wasn’t thirty, I was just worried about getting dehydrated. The nausea came and went a few times in that mile then went away. I stomached my gel down and that helped. I don’t remember the exact mile but definitely by mile 16 I realized I had no clue where the pacer was. My plan had been to stay with him until mile 24. I hadn’t seen balloons or heard his voice in some time, but there had been a group behind me I had assumed for some time was the pace group. I was on my own now until the end. I kept the steady pace I had been running but my watch miles were ‘off’ the mile markers (which were giant balloons on long strings. I heard one pop at one mile and it sounded like a gun shot).  I now had less than 10 miles to go. I started to count each mile down, one at a time. Fluid stations were every mile now so I decided to go every 3 or 4 miles instead. Since I now use the UCAN edge, I don’t have to take fluids after my gels but I still like to have something follow the consistency. My legs felt great. I was in a great headspace. I was truly focusing on each mile, enjoying what was going on around me.

The last few miles at this point are a blur. The nausea started to come on stronger and more frequently. I don’t remember really paying any attention to my mile splits but I knew what time I needed to be at when I hit mile 24. I knew when I got there I wanted to start to push if I could. There were 2 ‘hills’ in the later part of the race. They weren’t steep but long, which at this point made them must worse than they were. I was able to maintain pace, keep calm, and not blow out my legs. The second hill was a bit tougher than the first, shorter and steeper, and I was so nauseous at that point. I had a moment when I thought I need to walk or I am going to throw up. At that very moment, the man next to me stopped and started to walk. I couldn’t help but think nope, he got to do that, this is not the day for you to walk. Today you are going to make this happen. I continued to push forward and had given up on liquids after mile 21. I was very uncomfortable but luckily my legs felt fine. I pushed as much as I could, barely slowing off my pace. As we got more and more into Duluth the crowds started to grow. People in Star Wars costumes yelling may the force be with you, someone in a llama outfit with ‘no drama llama’ written across his chest, another dresses as Elvis. Not having ‘crowds’ so to speak the entire way really gave me a boost to have these people out there now. We got into downtown, less than 6 miles to go. I was warm and there had been cold sponges on the course, I thought I’d grab one just before 24. Sure enough when I pushed forward to give myself room, there was no one at the sponge station. Figures.

I came through the 24 mile mark with around a 22 second or so buffer. I wanted to start to push but my stomach was doing flips. We passed over a time mat just before this and the girl just in front of me had a video pop up on this huge video board of her family wishing her luck. We exchanged words on how cool that was and I pushed ahead of her. I was using every person in front of me as a target. I came through 25 miles, did quick math and realized I had to push with everything I had to make it under. Just passed the marker, we made a left turn and went downhill. This was the perfect push I needed to turn my legs over. The trouble was I had no idea that the last mile twisted and turned so much. We made another left hand turn, straight into the headwind that had been at our backs the whole time. It was like running into a brick wall, mile 26 of a marathon, trying to sprint, not a pleasurable moment. I was now trying to weaving around lines of people who were running the tangent. People are generally brain dead at this point so getting people to hear me when I would say which side I was coming up on fell on deaf ears. We made another left to go around the William Irvin battleship docked in Duluth and the wind let up just a bit. Another right. The road kept twisting and turning, I was dodging people left and right. Where the heck was the 26th mile marker?? Finally we went under an overpass, the road changed to cobblestones and there it was. Balloons draped above across the street, people lining both sides, the clock. I couldn’t let up. I knew I’d be close, but how close? .2 is so much farther than it seems. It wasn’t until I was 10 meters away from the finish that I realized I was going to do it. This was it. The moment I had worked for in the past 8 years. 4:30 am wake ups, sacrificing any and all free time, pushing myself alone on roads across South Carolina, New York, Louisiana, North Carolina, Slippery Rock, and everywhere in between. Going back to school full time and taking on three part time jobs. All of the tears, frustrations, celebrations. This was it.

2:59:42.

My hands covered my mouth, then the sides of my head, I pulled on my hair, I made weird noises. A jumble of emotions that sadly no photographer got. Steps past the line I had the urge to get on all fours, hands over my face, head to the ground and cry. A medical volunteer came over to make sure I was okay. We shared a laugh over my pure joy of the moment. And then as quickly as it came, the pain set in. My legs. Oh my gosh my legs. They started to scream at me. The medal, now clunking on my stomach wasn’t helping the nausea that had come back. I sat on a curb taking in the moment. The aching in my legs was starting to subside. I was watching everyone come in around me, sharing moments with friends who had run. Just sitting on cloud nine, trying not to puke. I don’t know how long I was sitting there but I finally got up to get some food. Random people I didn’t remember running by were asking how I did. That they had seen my ribbons while running or had been in the group early on. Maybe my face was giving it away. It was so special. As I walked I felt more and more sick. I spent a moment in the port a pot just in case but once I removed the medal and stopped moving, it finally went away.

Just as I had finished the sun disappeared behind clouds and it was freezing. I am usually cold after races but this didn’t help. I got my things and plopped myself under a tree to rest against. Putting on whatever layers I had I sat and shook. My legs were still aching and now I was freezing. Ugh. What a way to pop my happy bubble. But then I turned on my phone. I called my mom, my dad, Craig. I didn’t have the words except ‘I did it’. Maggie was still on the course. She had a ways to go and had given me permission to get back to the room to shower and come back for her. I couldn’t sit there any more. I got up and made the very long walk to the shuttles. I just made the shuttle going back to WI and sat next to a guy who asked me how I did. We struck up a conversation about NYC since it will be my next. More random strangers congratulated me and had apparently been running near me at some point. I really was in my own world out there since I don’t remember many people at all. Getting back into our little truck was surprisingly easy. The stairs at the hotel were not. There was no elevator but it made for some funny moments the next day. Once in the hot shower I felt instantly better. I got myself ready for the day and had just enough time to make it back to get the next shuttle back to the finish area. Maggie messaged me just as I was getting on. We found each other and embraced. We had both gone through the ringer to get to this point and it felt so good to share that with her. We spent some time at the finish festival, her getting a massage, picking up our free beers, and petting dogs. After she took her time in the hotel we headed up for food. It was now after 3:30 and neither of us had eaten since 3am. What we hoped to be a day full of brewery hopping turned into us eating and going right to sleep. As in, the sun was still out when we turn the lights out.

[byoungernj]

Life & Grandma’s Marathon: Training and Race Updates Part 4

The following day we ventured up to Split Rock Lighthouse and Gooseberry Falls state parks about 45 minutes north of Duluth. Gooseberry is a place you could spend the entire day at. The falls were three tiers high and people were walking along the water. There were tons of dogs which made us both happy. We popped into two different breweries once we got back. I wish we could have spent more time in Duluth but we had to drive down to Minneapolis. Unfortunately I also had to study the entire time we were in the car which ruined the end of a fantastic day. When we got down there we couldn’t get over how hot it was. We really dodged the heat. I think it was 100? Ew. This trip was exactly what I needed. A perfect little get away with a friend I hope to keep in touch with for a long long time. The cherry on top was the race itself. I got my Shalane moment. Looking back I had so much fun with this entire cycle. I kept a good balance of training and coursework. I remembered to really enjoy the process and take each week as it came.

So what’s next? I did struggle in the weeks immediately after the race. I didn’t have any goals beyond breaking three hours. Not having a goal put me in such a funk. I was thrown straight back into reality at school since there were only a few weeks left before our white coat. It was a funk I guess is similar to when athletes reach the Olympics for the first time and then it’s over. I still am not sure what those time goals will be moving forward but there are races to be run. Just as I was in 2020, I am registered to run the NYC Marathon this fall. It’s going to be a quick turn around and I am not looking to run for any specific time. This build up will be abbreviated and all about getting to a place where I can simply finish and enjoy the day. Most importantly I am raising money for the Brave Like Gabe Foundation. (bravelikegabe.org) I want this race to be more about something bigger than me. I want this race to mean something more than the time on the clock. If you have read this far and would like to donate, here is the link: https://secure.givelively.org//donate/brave-like-gabe-foundation/2022-nyc-marathon/becky-younger  Every penny goes directly to BLG. Thanks for following along and let’s see what I think up for my next goal.

Gear and nutrition changes: 

I changed a few things this cycle and of course I’m sure they helped in some way. First I became a UCAN ambassador this past year and have fallen more and more in love with their products. The biggest game changer is the UCAN Edge gel. It does not need water to break it down, the consistency is not as thick as other gels, and they taste like a smoothie. I not once felt a drop in my energy levels and highly suggest their products. https://ucan.co

Next I embraced CBD dummies. Not just for race anxiety but for school anxiety. Any time I felt that heaviness in my chest or my heart racing, one or two of those little dummies brought me back down to earth. I wasn’t able to fall asleep easier the night before the race but it definitely kept me calmer. https://sundayscaries.com

Lastly I bought super shoes. New Balance FuelCell RC Elite v2. These things feel like springs. I am not a Nike fan so I have never tried those shoes but these NB ones were magic. I felt them pushing me off the ground when going up hills, my efforts were less but my paces were faster. I definitely plan to wear them for future races. 

[byoungernj]

Triple P: PT School, OP, Pandemic

2020.

Anyone currently living in it, doesn’t need a further description. After CIM in December, I was super motivated to get back into the groove of things. Anxiety beat me down and I didn’t have the marathon my body was capable of. I was in the best shape of my life, so I knew I wanted to take another stab at it as soon as possible. The plan was to run Grandma’s Marathon in June. Then I got into NYC, so I had hoped for a victory lap there. But training through the baseball season sounded unpleasant. I had done this once before, but with more structure and the ability to schedule my days a bit better. So what made me decide to take on the challenge? My first ‘P’

Last year, I felt as though I’d lost control of my life. My family had struggles and my body gave up on me. It was after a cascade of events that I finally broke and decided to apply to Physical Therapy school. I’d have to live on loans, step away from having a steady paycheck for 3 years, and yet again move. But at the age of 30, my priorities in life have changed and I can not achieve them anymore as just an athletic trainer. I needed 3 pre-req classes, which I was able to do completely online through my mom’s college. By the end of summer 2019 I had completed all necessary components of each application. The week before CIM, I received word that I had been admitted into one of those schools. Though it was not my top choice, I was going to PT school! In January I traveled to Colorado Springs and took part in a 2 week volunteer rotation at the US Olympic Training Center. What a fantastic experience, which can be an entirely separate post. Once I returned, I had heard back from all the schools I applied to and had started training for Grandma’s. 2020 was starting off in a very exciting way. And then, the second ‘P’ began.

In the beginning of March I started to experience pains in my lower abdomen and inner thighs. They were strange and weird, pains I had never experienced before. At the start of a run or any time I restarted say after waiting for the light to change, I would have sharp pain and pressure in my lower abdomen that would subside after a few strides. During long runs, in the later miles I would feel a constant sensations as if something was pulling on the bottom of my ‘butt bones’ (gluteal tuberosity for my anatomy nerds). After I ran, my inner thighs (adductors) would be extremely irritated the rest of the day. If I tired to stretch them, I felt nothing but pain. As my training progressed, the pain I felt when restarted caused my to shuffle my feet for some time before the sharp pains subsided. After a run, anytime I went on one leg my hips felt so unstable. I finally decided to seek the help of a pelvic floor PT. To my knowledge, if there is adductor pain the pelvic floor is involved, thus my reason for starting there. I was full functional, things just hurt. It took a while to come to a diagnosis but once she found one, I looked through my textbooks and agreed. I was suffering from Osteitis Pubis (OP). At the moment of diagnosis, I made the decision to stop running. I wanted for this to go away as soon as possible. It was April 29th. I know this because I ran a fantastic 5 mile tempo that still stands as my last activity on Strava. Grandma’s had been cancelled by then so I was doing a long road tempo every 3 weeks and working on shorter intervals on the track. I was back into the rhythm I had been in during the fall. Crushing workouts and loving my fitness. I was so excited to do something great. But I stopped running and took to my Elliptigo, which didn’t cause pain. Now for the sucky part of American medicine. I was loosing my health insurance in a month due to leaving my job. By the time I went to our team physician, I had 1 week left. He was unfamiliar of the condition so unfortunately didn’t offer any help. He advised me to see a specialist but it was too late. I spent the summer at home on the Elliptigo and bike. By the time I went out to school in mid-August, I was attempting to run. But by the time I tried to run a mile, the pain was coming back. I tried swimming but this created so much pain it hurt to walk again. Now having insurance again, I made a PT appointment with a sport specialty PT and an Ortho with a hip specialty. PT was working on progressing activities without pain, but I still felt a lot of abnormal things. The Ortho ordered an MRI and referred the to a specialist to rule out a sports hernia. In that visit, he and the radiology report of my MRI confirmed the OP diagnosis. I was told zero forms of activity for 12 weeks and I received an injection into my pubic symphysis. The injection relived the pain I had when lifting groceries or laundry, so that was a relief. After 12 weeks I could start progressing back. So for the past 2 weeks I have been progressing in time on the bike, every other day. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I stopped having bony pain. My hope is to start running at the start of next month, in a very very slow manner. Fingers crossed for me please!

The bright side of all of this, the final ‘P’. 2020 is the year of the pandemic. COVID-19 hit the US in March and our world has been out of sorts ever since. Both of my races were canceled but once I heal and the world heals, I will complete both races. I want to experience NYC as it was, in all its magic. I want a big pace group to crush Grandma’s with. I want to explore Minnesota and go out in public and feel safe on a plane. So this time has allowed me the time to heal. It’s allowed me time to commit to school. Though I am struggling with the appearance of my body, I am trying to be kind to it, with the long term health of my pelvic pubic bones in mind. Many runners careers are ended by OP. But many people are loosing their lives to COVID. I am being patient with my body, with strangers, and with the world. This all is not forever, it’s just now. Time heals all wounds. 

To end on a perfect note, look at my mom’s new dog! Meet Tessie.

[byoungernj]

CIM 2019 In Pictures

I listened to this podcast on the plane home. I couldn’t have resonated more with how I was feeling at that exact moment. I want it to live here so that I can remember to listen to it before my next big race and so that it can help others. 

[byoungernj]

California International Marathon 2019

It’s taken me awhile to sit down and write about CIM 19, mostly because life went on and the urge never got strong enough for me to write. But what can I say. I had the best build up ever and the week of the race, my anxiety got the best of me and my gut. So as I sit at home in the age of quarantine, drinking a way to hoppy for me beer, I’ll try to recall this past fall.

Coming off of Chicago I was in a rough place. It was dark and miserable and I want to hug my counselor because she changed me for the better. In the spring, my body decided to check out and after months of doctors appointments and low, controlled mileage I discovered I was struggling through chronic fatigue syndrome. My legs hurt so bad simply laying down, I loathed the thought of getting out of bed. It lasted into the summer. I ran the Peachtree Road Race in Atlanta on July 4th for fun. I suited up in my Oiselle gear and poured sweat through the hilly streets, crossing Georgia off my list of states to run a road race in. After a few days off I started to build back up in prep for my CIM build up. One day, I don’t remember which one, I realized my legs had stopped aching. Runs were starting to feel normal again and running became enjoyable.

I had chosen CIM again because I wanted my next attempt at breaking 3 to be something I got excited for. The buildup to Chicago lacked any sort of emotion other than the f word. It is a decent size marathon, not a pancake of a course, usually great weather, and a fun trip overall. A friend of mine decided to join as well, making for a very fun travel party. It was through this spring and summer that I had begun a new ambition. I was taking prerequisites to go back to school. Having this new goal to work towards helped to keep me motivated outside of my usual run and work combo.

The first month or so of training was just so so. It was still summer in North Carolina and the heat and I are mortal enemies. Craig and I continued with similar workouts to my last CIM build up. The first half of that build up was in the summer heat of New Orleans, so it wasn’t surprising that my early workouts were better than before. But what excited me looking back at my old training journal was that I was putting together more cumulative weeks of quality workouts compared to the last build up. Workouts started to click sooner and I was running faster than I ever had. It was somewhere near the end of the first ⅔ of this training block that I had this overwhelming feeling post workout. For the first time in a very very long time, I was having FUN with training. I wasn’t staying up the night before a workout with anxiety or fear of how it would go. I didn’t dread the thought of getting up and putting in hours of running on Sundays. If a workout wasn’t completely hit out of the park, I was okay. A bad workout has to happen. I need to get it out of my system now so it doesn’t sneak up on race day.

Well the first bad workout happened to come on the day of my half marathon at the Bull City Running Fest. I ran this exact half in prep for my last CIM. It’s ridiculously hilly so keeping race pace on this course will give me an extra boost for the rolling hills of Sacramento. Well this year was a wee bit different. It was pouring. Like Forrest Gump big ol’ fat rain. I started to laugh on the start line that I put sunscreen on that morning. The course had changed as well. I found out a few weeks later it was due to a sinkhole a little too close for comfort on the old course. This year’s course had 3 hairpin turns that killed what I considered momentum that day. From the gun my legs wouldn’t move. I hit the first mile which is half uphill but after that I struggled a bit. After the first 8 miles I found myself counting down how many miles were left until I was done. I became frustrated at how it felt we only ran uphill. I would turn a corner, boom uphill. Get to the top, turn another corner, boom steeper uphill. Around 9 miles I checked out. I was so frustrated at how off this day was and that this damn course was terrible. I came in slower than marathon pace but what I was most angry about was where my mind went. It was as if everything I had pushed past this fall was hiding out in Durham.

What made me proud though was that a few days later I decided to give myself another chance. There was a half in Raleigh 2 weeks after Bull City. It was a cold, beautiful day. My legs felt light and free. I started out too fast but the pace felt comfortable. 13 miles later I pressed the pace and finished with a PR and an overall female win. That was the effort I knew I was putting together in my workouts. That was the effort that showed I was in the best shape of my life. It made me want to race CIM already but unfortunately I had to wait another 6 weeks.

The rest of training continued to go great. So great it began to worry me when I started to taper. Had I not gotten enough bad efforts out of my legs to prevent it from popping up on race day? Workouts were faster, I closed long runs faster than goal pace, I felt strong. But my dear friend anxiety decided to roar back day by day as race day got closer. I became even more of a germaphobe, I wore a mask on the train back from Thanksgiving, I was convinced I was going to get sick so much that when my throat started to feel rough the Wednesday before, I felt the weight of the world come off my shoulders. But it wasn’t a sense of relief, it was the emoji where the girl is shrugging with her hands in the air. Welp, I was sick. But looking back, I don’t think I really was because after the race was over, the throat discomfort was nowhere to be found. The day before the race we ate at one of the restaurants my mom and I had eaten at 2 years prior. I had the same dish I had then as well. But after that meal my stomach felt way too full. When dinner came around, I didn’t have any sense of hunger but I knew I needed to eat for fuel. That night I was tired but my stomach had a different agenda. I spent most of the night in the bathroom. Not urgently but frequently. I usually don’t sleep much the night before but this was by far the least I’ve ever slept.

Come race morning I felt no better. I tried to down my typical morning fuel but was still too full. Also, reflecting back, I was so off my game that morning. I planned like a rookie and almost ruined my friend’s race morning as well. I planned to get to the buses way too late so we stood in line for over a half hour. Once we got out to Fulsom I thought we’d have some time to sit on the bus, as I did last time. I was wrong. After sitting for a little, we ventured out to way to long bathroom lines which prevented me from my normal warm up and me completely panicking trying to drop off my bag and get into my corral near the pacer. I made it but was completely unsettled. I took a few deep breaths but was uncomfortable not having gone through my routine. I looked to my right and saw an old college training partner. A ‘side hug’ helped ease my nerves. The weather was not ideal either. It was humid and overcast. It had rained that night and drizzled a bit during parts of the race.

The gun went off and I settled down. I was tucked in right behind the pacers. One of them was who I had followed 2 years ago, which made me happy. Around 8 miles I started having negative thoughts. Some in the frame of ‘we’re only at 8 miles?!’ others ‘you have so far to go, this is taking forever.’ I fought them off and tried to focus on other things or combat them with positive rebuttals. Around mile 10 my legs started to not feel so great. I was actually a few steps in front of the pace group but tried to keep them in ear shot. I took a mile or so to slow up for them to catch me and for my legs to recover.  Around mile 10 my legs started to not feel so great. Again the negative gremlins came into my brain. My response was this is just a rough patch, you’ll be fine, stick with it. But 4 miles later I was still not feeling so hot. I had come through the half realizing I was straining and had 13 miles to go. It became a 1 mile at a time race. The ‘rough patch’ wasn’t going away. It was around mile 14 I knew this wasn’t going to be the day. At mile 16 I fell a few steps behind the group at a water stop and I realized that was it. The group was gone. I kept a pace that allowed me to have them in site for a few more miles.

A small side story. At CIM 2017, I got to see a former college teammate and his twin at the Oiselle afterparty. I hadn’t seen him since college and it was great catching up. He was so proud of his brother and it radiated off of him the entire afternoon. Sadly, a short time after his brother took his own life. I’ve seen him once since then and couldn’t embrace him long or tight enough. The day before this years’ race, he reached out to me that he was there and running in his brother’s honor. After the group was out of site, I saw him on the side of the road talking to someone. I called out his name and he jumped in for a mile with me. We shared a few thoughts of his brother and I struggled to find the right words of how proud his brother is of him and that he was there with him. I made plans to see him after and I grabbed his hand before I told me to go ahead. Had I not been having this type of day, I would have never shared that with him. Silver linings.

Around mile 23 we cross a small bridge. On the bridge was a ‘cheer station’ of women on bikes. In a moment, I noticed their signs said ‘TR Loves You’. I have no clue what TR stood for in this context but TR to me stands for my hometown of Toms River. As I crossed the end of the bridge, there sat a little corgi. The combination of these two little ‘signs’ brought tears to my eyes and smacked me out of my pity party. My legs took off and my watch told me I was back on my original goal marathon pace. I was almost done and got the motivation to finish the best I could. This may not be a sub 3 marathon, but it was going to be a fast time for me. The final half mile of CIM makes a U. This anticipation of the first of two left hand turns lasted forever. Way longer than I remember. Once I reached it I made the last turns, legs burning for the past mile. I crossed in my second fastest marathon time. The friend of mine from the start was at the finish, she had finished a few minutes ahead of me. Neither of us had the day we wanted but not the worst day. Not a Chicago.

Another side story. The friend who had come to run the race with me was chasing a BQ and on a quest to beat her dad’s marathon time. I sat down on the curl just beyond the finish line. No one was bothering me so I realized I could sit there and if she made the time, I would see her. I ended up being told I could not sit there any longer just seconds before I looked up and saw her. She had blown her dad’s time out of the water and was on her way to Boston. I was more excited for her race the entire weekend and I enjoyed the moment at the finish of her achieving her goals.

Looking back that evening, my stomach still unsettled, I was disappointed. The day did not reflect how fit I was. I had gotten ‘sick’ at the wrong time. I gave myself a few days before I decided on my next goal. During the race, after I had fallen off, I had already begun to brainstorm where I would make my next sub 3 attempt. I made myself wait two full weeks after the race before I clicked register on my next marathon. I was finally loving training. I actually was missing training for the first time ever in my life. I set my sights on Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth Minnesota that June. It was a place I’ve never been too, the home of my favorite pro Kara Goucher, and a fast course. I was prepared to train through what would be my last collegiate season as an athletic trainer. I am heading to physical therapy school this coming August so this would be one last celebration of miles.

I look back and realize I was never sick. I was anxious. I learned this when the pandemic took over the United States and the phantom throat discomfort returned the day the reality of the situation really hit me. I had grown so much in my fight against this invisible jerk. Yet it got the better of me yet again race week. Heading into this build up I welcomed the distraction of the baseball season. I thought it would help in occupying my anxiety. But the world had a different plan. Grandma’s is now cancelled. Not postponed, cancelled. More silver linings as I am now sitting at home with an injury that is preventing me from running. I can physically run but it’s extremely painful during and after. For the first time in my adult life, I have time to sit and relax and rest and heal. I’m taking it for what it is. I am signed up for the NYC Marathon in November and am hoping to simply enjoy the day.

Now I am proud of CIM 2019. It was not what I knew I could run but it was my second fastest marathon. If a 3:04:14 is an ‘off-day’ for me, that’s a pretty good thing in my book. Before the race was cancelled I was back to ripping workouts. I was back enjoying running and training. That feeling will come back. Racing will return. And I’ll run CIM again because it is still my favorite marathon. Peace and love Sacramento.

[byoungernj]

Chicago in pictures

[byoungernj]

Chicago Part 1

If you’re looking for a recap of what it’s like to run the Chicago Marathon, I’m sorry, but I definitely can’t give you that. Not because I had a bad marathon experience in Chicago but because I didn’t take in the marathon and all it and the city of Chicago had to offer. You see, I’ve fallen out of love with running. Truthfully, I’ve fallen out of love with a lot of things. My mental health has taken a turn for the worse and controlled my life for the past months. I don’t mean for this recap to be depressing nor am I asking for your sympathy, but I can’t write the story of Chicago without acknowledging a large part of my downfall.

It’s apparent in my last number of postings that I have been chasing the goal of breaking three hours in the marathon. What I haven’t written about it my ‘B’ goal. For the past three years I have wanted to achieve Chicago’s American Development standard of 3:01:00. I’ll never be an Olympic Trials Qualifier nor have the opportunity to be considered an ‘elite’ athlete at big road races, but the AD program allows individuals like myself or faster a taste of what it would be like. With entry to the AD program, those runners are provided a heated tent at the start area with refreshments pre and post race, a separate bag drop, and a start corral directly behind the professionals but in front of the masses. With Chicago being a World Marathon Major, those professionals range from Olympic gold medalists to national record holders. This would be my specialty treatment that I busted my ass for and I intended to enjoy every moment of it. At CIM, I missed break three by four seconds, but that meant I blew the doors of the AD standard and I would be headed to Chicago.

By the time I started this cycle of training I hadn’t put much effort into my off-season. My work schedule began all consuming and the thought of workouts went to the back burner. I did some every so often but they were so infrequent, it did nothing for my fitness. I gained weight because I had no time to cook during the week or I had no desire to do what was right for my body but sleep. The last two weeks of the baseball season over lapped with my first two weeks of Chicago specific training. Luckily I was instructed to simply build mileage and refrain from workouts for the first three weeks. On that third week I got exactly what I needed with a weeklong trip to Oregon and Washington, one of my favorite places in the country (if not my favorite). I came enjoyed running for that week but fell straight back into the blues when I returned home. My first workout went well and I was excited by my starting point. I set the goal to train faster than 2:59 pace. I believed I could do this coming off of CIM. I think deep down I still believe this but for now, I have to focus on the little things that will return my body and mind back to the state it should be for success.

The last week of June I traveled back to New Orleans for a week long visit and conference. I visited all my favorite running spots with friends and enjoyed another boost of life back in my step. But during the next few weeks, I found myself simply going through the motions of training. My workouts were sub par, my body felt run down, and I lacked any form of passion. Come the end of July I had zero confidence in myself. I didn’t finish a few workouts. I would stop mid rep and want to give up, my mind couldn’t tough it out and my legs followed. Getting out of bed in the morning was tough. I picked the easiest pilate routines just to say I did them. I questioned why bother at this point? Sadly the already paid for marathon expenses is why I didn’t quit at this point. I found myself with nothing to say on the phone with my coach. I couldn’t explain why training was going so terribly. I didn’t know what legs were going to show up each day. I dreaded workouts and didn’t sleep much the nights before for fear of continued failure.

I had a string of workouts after this moment that went much better. I still didn’t feel comfortable at the paces I needed to feel so at. The high I usually rode after a great workout only last an hour or so instead of the entire day as cycles before. One rough workout popped back up and my confidence spun right back down the drain. I had zero positive feelings for race day. I had a plan but as I spoke the words out loud I found myself not caring. Those words were what I should have been saying, but I didn’t believe them. Break three hours? ���right, you wish. I raced a half marathon in Virginia Beach. I struggled. The goal was to run marathon pace for ten miles then race the last three. My legs started to weight me down five miles in. It was hot, 79 degrees and 100% humidity at the start, 85 degrees at the finish. I struggled the hang on to the pacers the last three miles. I pulled through and ran MP to the end, good enough for third. I was frustrated. Why was this so hard? The weather can’t be all that is working against me. I’ve been training in it all summer. Again, my confidence for race day dwindled to nothing. In the last few weeks leading up to the race my parents’ tone would change on the phone when I would respond with not really to them questioning my excitement for race day. Work was running my into the ground at this point and I could barely make it through the day without screaming on the inside. I stopped caring about my work, my training, the race. Everything was a dull blur.

[byoungernj]

Chicago Part 2

Race weekend came sure enough and I met up with my mom and friends. The morning I left it was 81 degrees at 7am and I yelled at nothing mid way through my run. The weather for all 20 weeks had been horrendous. 95-100% humidity every day. Temperatures in the 80s and 90s. I was over it before I even started. How could it be hotter than New Orleans in North Carolina?? Chicago was just as humid and foggy. My legs felt okay during my shake out yet light during strides. I ran past Meb on the lakefront which did bring a smile to my face. The day before lacked all nerves. Reflecting back on it, I guess my subconscious knew the race was a lost cause, why bother wasting energy being nervous. I slept a decent amount the night before which never happens. I credit this to how much work had run me into the ground the previous two weeks.

On race morning, I met up with two friends and walked over to the starting area. The AD tent was in a separate area, with room to warm up, separate bathrooms, heated tent, tables with Gatorade and water. I went out to use the bathroom and realized the elite were warming up just outside our tent. We were sharing the closed off area with the pros. I let out one huge smile and a silent oh my gosh. When I think back to that moment, usual happy me wouldn’t have been able to stop smiling and would have gushed. But in that moment I wasn’t myself. I ran into a few old friends during warm ups. I got ready to head to the start with one of them. We were held in a line out to the side of the start area. All the pro walked back on their way to the start. The men, focused and looking straight ahead, the women full of smiles and waved back when wished luck. The wheelchairs set out, followed by the anthem. Then we were let in behind the professionals. They kept us closed off from the masses. We had room to stride out, I had room to take a breath. Joan Benoit Samuelson was standing a foot next to me and I wished her luck as she was attempting to break three hours at the age of 61. I noticed her talking to someone off to the side. That person, was Paula Radcliffe.

Soon after the masses were allowed to fill in and I sat pushed against the side barricade, waiting to align with the three hour pacer. It was a weird moment when the gun fires and everyone moves forward past you. I now wish I took in the experience. Lined up behind the pros and ran my own race. I knew deep down this wasn’t going to go perfectly. I put myself directly to the right of the pacer. He said the plan was to run even splits…perfect. The group was big. With each turn I was jostled all over. The first mile had a decent amount of hills, all of which we went down. I felt okay, the first mile is always uncertain as I find my pace. But as mile two came up I noticed the pace felt like a sprint. Our first split was right on but now I felt as though I was reaching. I stuck with him thinking I was still adjusting. Rounding to the third mile, I got a side stitch in my right side. The pace felt fast and the pain only grew. I had hydrated well that morning but not enough to have stomach sloshing or cramping. Why wasn’t this going away? I decided to back off the pace just a tad and fell into 6:50 pace, the pace I planned to run. But the group’s lead on me continued to grow. There was no way they were running even. I passed a friend who agreed, they were flying. This would be just the start of a very long morning. A mile later the aches and pains I had worked out and through during training began to pile up. My left plantar fascia suddenly became so tight I could not run without my toes curled under. I felt as though taking a normal step was rip the fascia straight down the middle. For the next three miles I tried to manage this and the side stitch. Mile six, the stitch was now gone but I felt a strong burning sensation in my right hamstring origin along my pelvic bone. Now I didn’t have a good leg to stand on. Two or three miles later, a near cramp like pain that I’d felt all week popped back up in my right calf. I debated dropping out at this point. Get to mile ten. Just keep going.

I wondered where my mom was on the course. I found her at the half way point. I hugged her holding back tears. I threw my hands up in defeat and for a split second debated just standing there and not continuing. But I turned forward and kept going. It was going to be a long 13 miles but I had to finish. I’ve only dropped out of one race in my life and I did not intend to ever do so again. I wanted to walk. I made a deal with myself I would push to 20 miles before that thought came back into my mind. I battled these thoughts all the way there. Around mile 15, my left hip flexor flared up so badly I could hardly lift my leg. Luckily my PF had loosened enough that I was stepping normally but without a good leg to stand on, it was harder to keep moving forward. I knew the Oiselle cowbell corner was at 17.5. I hoped their cheers would pick me up just as much as they did in Sacramento. They did make me smile but my legs couldn’t respond. I knew I was running at a wildly slow pace, but any time I attempted to pick up the pace one of my alignments would scream even louder. Mile 20 came and I continued forward, Chinatown was up ahead. I had just made my way through the lively Latin neighborhoods, filled with music and dancing. I enjoyed this part of the course the most but I wish I could remember more.

Right at mile 21, a right turn takes you under the large ‘Welcome to Chinatown’ sign. I was almost there. A sharp, hairpin left turn nearly did me in. My hip screamed and my hamstring burned. My legs wanted to give up. Joan Samuelson passed me. I laughed at the reactions of others as she flew by. I guess she wasn’t going to break three either, but wow is she still a machine. I don’t remember exactly what mile I finally gave in, but I walked through a water stop. I only allowed walking through the tables and then it was back to the shuffle that had now become my race pace. Walking felt so much better but I wanted this all to be over. Mile 23 was coming up and I told myself to wait until I passed the mile marker. What I thought was a stranger came up on my left, said something I couldn’t make out and extended a fist bump. It was my friend’s husband and it could not have helped me more. I focused on his back and through the mile marker. I had just made it a mile and half without walking, farther then I had in a bit. I kept going. I lost him for a moment and then saw him walking. I encouraged him to keep going a bit more then I’d walk with him. Later I found out he thought it was just me telling him to keep going. He went by me again and I watched him continue to gain a lead for the next mile or so. I waited until I lost sight of him to walk again. By the time I had three miles to go I wanted to take a breath and make it the rest of the way. My legs told me to stop once more around mile 25. I rounded one of the final turns, up the cruel hill past the 26 mile marker and turned to the finish. I couldn’t get over how empty the stands were. Clearly they had been filled for the elites but now, it was a ghost town. I spread my arms wide and took a long breath as I crossed the line. I did it. I’ve never fought myself so much.

I waited for my heat blanket to hide my tears. Everything hurt. My back was now in spasm, my legs ached, my heart broken. I went through the paces, the medal, the bag of snacks, and walked right past the photographers. I heard someone say my name and it was a friend of mine from New Orleans who I had been with in the AD tent. She had a bad day too and we both struggled through the long long walk back to the tent. I can’t emphasis enough how long of a walk this was. We thought we were lost a few times, had to go down stairs, and fight the wind off of the lake. We both grew colder and weaker. Finally once back in the tent, the warmth helped my body warm up. I reached for my phone, my first message to my coach with simply ‘my body starting breaking down at mile two, I don’t know what happened’. The next to my mom, trying to find her. The tent was buzzing. Most individuals had great days or okay days. Everyone seemed to be pleased. A few individuals shared my tears but there was an overall feeling of accomplishment in the tent. I sat, covered in dry clothes until they closed the tent, trying to figured out what happened these last 20 weeks and three plus hours. This whole race was not meant to be. I found my mom and my friend and her family. We made plans to meet up for lunch after a shower and I needed time to decompress.

The following day we did some touristy things and met up with other friends. I really liked the city. If it wasn’t for the terrible winters, I could see myself living there. We all traveled home the next day. I walked my mom to the train in the morning. When I returned to my empty hotel room, I cried. This whole thing was a disaster. It felt as though I had done nothing the past three days, yet I had. I apologized out loud to Chicago as I left the hotel. I was defeated. I ate my feelings for the next few days but I reflected on what was this build up. Yes, my mental health has been winning the internal battle but something else didn’t feel right. How, in ten months, did I go from running the best marathon of my life to barely achieving marathon pace in short repetition tempos in training? I’ve since seen a doctor to explore some possible explanations. I begun work on my mental health. I’ve started the long road to a better me. A happier me. I miss having fun through running. I miss waking up with motivation and passion. I miss the me I know is still deep inside.

If this bummed you out, I’m not sorry. Stories of mental health struggles need to be told. In college, I believed the stigma that if you need help, you must be crazy. I would have had a much more enjoyable time in college if I had sought out help. Getting help is normal. Not only that, it’s needed. Why not invest in yourself and make your life that much brighter. For now I have no running plans. I have begun again but have no other goals then to return to running six days a week for my health. I’m not in the place yet to make the correct decision for myself. I don’t know that I’ll return to the Chicago Marathon, but I hope one day I will have the desire to do so again. I wish I could have immersed myself in the event that is the Chicago Marathon. But there were positives. I finished another Abbott World Marathon Major. I visited and fell in love with a new city. I saw a lot of people who I haven’t seen in a while. I met a new hero of mine at the expo in Allie Kieffer. I spent the weekend with a long time friend, her parents, and my mom. Most importantly, I didn’t give up. I came extremely close, but I finished. It’s tough to say I’m proud of myself for that out loud but I know I believe it. So Chicago, here’s to you. You were awful.

[byoungernj]

CIM: Port-a-pot Goals