|6:00 AM, Hartford, CT|
---> Is this too fast? Can I hold this? Probably not. But I feel SO good. Maybe I can hang on. Maybe this time is different? Maybe??
And then I had to pee. I could not stop thinking about it. In all my marathons, I have never had to duck out to use the bathroom. I did not want to break my stride and lose my group, but with each water stop I worried that it would get worse, so I decided it had to be done. I made it quick and tried to jump right back in, but I had lost my crew and my groove. First bleep on the radar. I settled back in and for the next ten miles or so, I maintained a pretty solid rhythm. I was running steady 7:20-7:25 miles and I was feeling strong. And then, well, then I wasn't. At mile 18 my mind started to mess with me. I was beginning to get tired and the message I kept hearing was "this is so damn hard, Rebecca, maybe you should just stop and take a break." My brain was sending the same message to my legs and they were happy to oblige. I was so pissed off; willing myself to block out these thoughts and forge on. But with each mile it was getting harder to fight. I started to stop at the water stations and take several gulps of gatorade, hoping the fuel would trick (or drown out) my brain. No such luck. By mile 22, I had slowed to a shuffle, my stomach had too much liquid in it and the cramps were in full force. It was touch and go. And it wasn't pretty. Finally, I made it to mile 25. Hallelujah. I almost cried I was so happy to see that number. My time at this point was 3:10. I poured my heart and soul into the final 1.2 miles to cross the line in 3:21:27.
|My coolest medal, by far.|
Rosie's first post-race comment:
"Good job mom. Can we go get ice cream now?"
Listen to this:
Tidal Wave - Sub Focus feat. Alpines