RACE REVIEW:MCKIRDY MICRO 26.2

"I know to trip is just to fall."

~ Led Zeppelin

On Saturday, my friend and Whirlaway teammate, Erin G., and I conquered the McKirdy Micro marathon. It was an epic battle for both of us.  And while we both had big goals, in the end, finishing was a feat in and of itself.  If you read RWM regularly, you know the details of how I ended up signing up for this marathon.  If not, feel free to get the back story here.  Bottom line, last fall I thought it sounded like a fun adventure to road trip and run this race with Erin not realizing that I would not be able to use my coveted music that I rely so heavily on.  For a hot second I considered bailing but Erin wouldn't have it so instead I decided to take this challenge, running without music, head on and hope for the best.  Giddy.  Up.  I trained as I always do; putting in about four months of work.  But this cycle was through the New England winter which happened to be particularly tough this year and it just about killed me.  But, I did it.  We did it.  And somehow, despite a fair bit of complaining and lot of time questioning our choices, we got ourselves to last week in one piece.  Our Whirlaway team manager, Dave Kaz, gave me a call on Thursday to check in.  I told him I was excited but also scared as I'd never raced without music.  In so many words, he told me this, The music is nice, Rebecca.  But that's not what makes you the runner that you are.  You are just as tough as anyone out there, music or no music.  Get on the line as ask yourself, who's tougher?  I really needed this boost.  I always write a mantra on my arm on race day.  So there it was.

Ready or not, we were doing this.  Erin's husband dropped her off at my house on Friday morning before the race and we packed up and headed out for our three hour drive to White Plains, NY which is where we'd be staying for the night.  Despite some slow downs due to construction, we had a pretty painless trip arriving at the hotel around 1:00.  We dropped our bags in our room and went down to the conference room to get our bibs and drop off our bottles.  One of the perks of this race was that we would have bottle service which meant that volunteers would put our own customized bottles out on a table and they would be available for us for every lap.  We were doing 8 laps of 3 miles which probably sounds pretty miserable to some of you but for us it was kind of nice because it took the guess work out of when we needed to grab our fluids.  I've done a lapped course before and I really don't mind it as it's a different way to break down a marathon mentally.

After handing off our bottles, we picked up our shirts and bibs from the race director.  He made a point to remind us that NO HEADPHONES or PHONES were allowed and that if he saw them he would pull you off the course and disqualify you.  I mean, I wasn't going to try to do anything sneaky but it felt like he was specifically talking to me as he said this.  Ok, yes, I know, I thought to myself.  No music.  Thank you for the reminder because it's not the only thing I've been thinking about since you told us the rules in January.  

The name Trachsel, pronounced TRAX-EL, tends to get butchered on the regular so it was no surprise to see that they had written TRASCHEL on my bib.  I laughed it off and tried not to take it as a sign.  Friends joked with me on social media calling me Trachsel the Rascal (Chicken), or telling me to prove "I ain't no trash" (the Rullet).  Funny, yes.  I'm all for it.  And it's really the only way to look at it without getting annoyed.  Erin and I spent the next five hours or so watching Friends re-runs, reading, eating snacks and dozing.  Not a bad Friday afternoon except that we were both incredibly anxious and couldn't really relax.  Par for the course.  We grabbed some dinner around 6:00, laid out all of our gear and got in bed around 8:00. 

Yes, 8:00 is ridiculously early, even for me.  But the race was going off at 7:00am and we were staying about 20 minutes from the start so in order to have time to wake up, drink coffee, shower and do all the things, we were setting our alarm for for 4:15am.  Hence, 8:00.  Our sweet friend and teammate, Lauren T., had driven down from NH with her adorable daughter, Brooke, to come watch and cheer us on and she'd told us she was more than happy to drive us over to the start so we didn't have to stress about it.  Yes, she is a saint.  Also worth noting that Brooke is 13.  And she got up with mom at 4:00, no complaints.  Zero chance either of my kids would've voluntarily done that for me.  So, yea.  They're both pretty amazing.

I grabbed a photo with Lauren before the race began which has become somewhat of a tradition for us since we became teammates back in 2019.  She was like my emotional support animal for the morning as the scene was intense and felt way more stressful than usual.  A lot of people were going for big times and the race director wanted us focused and on our game.  Which is fine.  But also, we were already on edge so I didn't feel like we needed the extra intensity.  Oh well.  Perhaps this is why I am not a professional runner.  This and the fact that can't use my headphones when I race.  Well, both of those things and, of course, because I am not fast enough.  All good.  Really.

THE RACE:

Miles 1-6 (6:54, 6:54, 6:38, 6:40, 6:46, 6:42)

As I mentioned, the race was broken down into eight laps of 3 miles.  The course was at a park in Valley Cottage, NY and the loop was around a lake; the whole scene pretty spectacular.  It also didn't hurt that we rolled in on stunner of a morning with temps in the low 40s, the sun rising and the fog rolling off the lake as we pulled into the parking lot.  This was a small event, around 250 people, so it was easy for us to park, warm up a little and find our tables with the bottles on them as we worked our way over to the start.  It had been so painfully cold this winter at home and I was grateful that I could walk around in my shorts and tank without shivering.  The race director broke us up in our different pace groups and introduced our pacers.  My plan was to run with the 3 hour pace group for as long as I could with the hope that I could pick it up a bit at the end and finish just under three hours.  That said, I was not putting a lot of pressure on myself for a specific time as I was just focused on getting through the whole thing without music.  The first couple miles were fine, though, as you can see in my splits, the pacers were a bit up and down as they tried to calibrate.  I had made a conscious decision not to look at my watch and to trust the pace team so I was just going with the flow.  

Around mile 5, someone clipped my heal from behind and I went down hard.  My shoulders, knees and chin hit the pavement hard and I laid there stunned, not knowing what to do with myself.  The crowd, which was sizable at the time as we all had the same time goal, just jumped to the side or barreled right over me.  For a split second I considered not getting up and just waiting until everyone was gone and calling it a day.  But then, I felt a woman pulling me up, literally, by my arms and then telling me to shake it off and get moving.  So that's what I did.  Thankfully, she made the decision for me as I was really struggling.  Clearly.  So, I got myself back in the group and tried not to think about my throbbing chin or the blood running down my arms and legs.  I saw Lauren around mile 6 and held up my arm to show her the carnage.  Why?  I have no idea.  I guess I just wanted her to know it had happened and to prove to someone other than myself that I was still going to attempt to finish.

MILES 6-13 (6:42, 6:50, 6:42, 6:40, 6:47, 6:46, 6:42, 6:38)

Thankfully I had managed to reset myself mentally and was trying to just lock back in and focus on my rhythm.  No music, remember?  So, I was counting, saying mantras, doing anything, really, to distract myself from, well...myself.  Looking back, I should have checked my watch as this pace was a little too swift for me and would cost me on the last 10K.  The lesson here being to use the pacers as a guide but not to depend on them fully.  My mistake.  I take full blame.  Other than that, the miles were ticking off, people were very supportive, sharing water and moving out of each other's way when the tables came up.  In that way, it was definitely a cool race environment and I'm sure that's what enabled me to stay on track for a while after falling.

MILES 14-21 (6:41, 6:40, 6:46, 6:51, 6:49, 6:54, 7:08)

Physically, I was still feeling okay for this section but mentally I was starting to feel a little doubt seep in.  I did a full body check - feet felt fine, cuts had stopped bleeding, legs were holding up, mind was still sharp.  So, I just trusted that I could hold on for this second half.  As I came up on my 6th lap I was feeling a little nauseous and didn't think I could get my fluids down.  Honestly, the thought of even trying kind of made me gag, so I just grabbed a water instead and took an electrolyte tab.  The temperature had been climbing steadily throughout the morning and I was starting to feel the warmth of the sun.  It wasn't outrageous, but it was noticeable for sure.  Looking back, as it crept into the 70s in that second half, I probably didn't drink enough to account for the change.  My legs were coated in salt when I finished which is always a sure sign of dehydration.  But, at the time, I just couldn't get much down.  At mile 21 you can see I started to fade.  I knew I would finish the race, but I also knew if I didn't dial it back I would probably be in trouble.  So, I did what felt right and that took me off the 3 hour pace group which meant I was running by myself.  With no music.  I know, I know.  I'll shut up about it. It's just such big deal for me to run in silence like that.  I just don't do well.  It's not an excuse, mind you.  Not going there.  I swear.

MILES 22-26.2 (7:08, 7:37, 7:10, 7:12, 7:26, 7:12)

Okay, so I had about 2 more laps to go.  I had to go to the bathroom and couldn't stop thinking about it.  I knew I'd already blown my shot at a sub-3 so at mile 23 I jumped behind a rock in the woods and squatted really quickly.  As you can see it only took me about 30 seconds but the relief was worth the loss.  I pride myself on being wicked fast at this trick.  When I got back on the course I felt mentally refreshed, back on my game and ready to get it done.  These decisions, to stop or not to stop, can be tough but ultimately you have to go with what you know will help feel the best.  Stopping was it for me.  I had no problem getting back up to my pace, even though it was now a little slower.  I was fine, though.  I could even smile at the photographer.  I knew I was finishing and was eager to cross the line.  I finally saw the chute and rolled across with a respectable 3:02.54 which, given how things had played out, I was pretty happy with.  The first thing I did was find the gal who had picked me up and thanked her.  She let me know that she had been the one who had tripped me, by accident, of course, and had felt terrible but then she had been the one to get me moving again so for that I was grateful.  Shit happens.  She's a good human.  After that I found Lauren, Brooke, Erin and our friend Michelle (new run connection FTW) and gave Lauren a much needed hug.  It was over.  I had done it.  It hadn't been pretty.  And that's okay.  It was a crazy battle, and in a weird way, I had won.

I went over to the medical table and got myself cleaned up.  Well, really Lauren and the trainer cleaned me up because I was kind of useless.  I had dirt and little rocks in all of my cuts and Lauren was adamant about rinsing them off, getting first aid cream on them and covering them up so they didn't get infected.  She's a good mom.  And a good friend.  

After that, we all made our way back to the hotel to take showers and get our stuff together to head home.  Normally, we wouldn't rush out but my daughter had been home from college for spring break and was leaving the next morning so I wanted to spend that last night with her.  Which meant shower, pack, lunch and get on the road in about a two hour window.  Impressive, right?  Erin and I talked through our experiences and agreed that the whole thing had been worth it despite the fact that our races hadn't gone to plan for either of us.  I won't go into Erin's race, that's her story to tell.  But, I will say that this build had been very challenging for her and that she was an absolute warrior out there.  I'm proud to call her my teammate and was so lucky to have had her as my run-wingman.  Lessons learned from this experience?  First, I can race without music.  I don't like it.  But I can do it.  That said, I will never do it again.  Second, I can push through really hard things, like taking a fall, and finish even when it feels like I can't.  It may not end up as I'd planned but it will be equally, if not more, rewarding.  Third, quitting is not an option.  I mean, unless I'd broken a bone or something.  But, you get the point.  Assuming you're able, it's always worth finishing.  Next up for Erin is London (4 weeks).  For me it's Boston (3 weeks).  So, quick turnaround for both of us.  But first, coffee.  Obvs.

Listen to this:

Heaven by Delacey

Delacey · Heaven

NO MUSIC

Last fall, my friend and Whirlaway teammate, Erin, suggested I sign up for the McKirdy Micro Marathon which would be taking place in upstate New York at the end of this March.  So, I poked around on the website and noted all the perks (pacers, personal bottle stations, marked tangents along the course, flat and fast).  And all of that plus the fact that it just looked really cool and I'd be road tripping and racing with Erin was more than enough to convince me to sign up.  Which I did.  And then, given that I was focused on running Hartford at that point, I didn't give it much more thought simply because I didn't have to.  At the start of the new year, McKirdy himself began to send informational emails about the marathon.  We are the only marathon in the world that offers an elite experience to every runner, he said.  Then he went on to explain that 225 of us would be taking on the roughly three mile looped course and that it was a USATF certified.  Oh, and by the way, headphones are strictly prohibited.  Insert loud record scratching sound here.  What the what??!!  I emailed McKirdy directly to be sure I understood the situation and he confirmed that wearing headphones during the race was not allowed due to USATF rules.  I then texted Erin.

I was seriously considering telling her that, for obvious reasons, I could no longer participate in this event.  I have run 34 marathons and countless other races from the mile to ultras.  College aside, I have never raced without music.  Ever.  For the love of Pete, I am Running With Music.  Music is my fuel.  I cannot imagine not using it for a full marathon nor do I want to imagine it.  Well, my friends, it is officially time to expand my imaginative capabilities as despite my efforts to try, Erin refused to let me bail.  And given that I'd registered, paid and was halfway through my training, I decided I would begrudgingly take on this new and exciting challenge of running a marathon without music.  Which meant I needed to start practicing by doing some workouts on my own.  In the dead of winter.  When I was doing most of work inside, down in my basement on the treadmill.  Because that sounded fun.  Ok, I know, I'm being a giant baby.  I won't deny it.  But I can't help it.  Sorry not sorry.  Back in February, I'd been planning to race a 4 miler with my team.  Then we got a blizzard and the race was canceled.  Well played, Mother Nature.  So my coach suggested I do a time trial on my treadmill.  He also gently suggested that I do it without music.

And I knew he was right.  It had to be done.  So, I agreed to give it a shot.  I didn't like it.  But, dammit, I got it done.  As you can see in this video, I was really proud of myself.  It's now March and the race is four weeks away.  Clearly, it would be beneficial for me to continue practicing without tunes.  Thus, I've come up with some creative ways to ease my way into it without completely ripping the bandaid off and running silent for the next month.  I think these seem like very reasonable solutions.  No?  Stay tuned.  This is gonna be interesting.

TOP 10 WAYS TO WEEN MYSELF OFF RUNNING WITH MUSIC

1. Turn the volume way down.  So like, I can hear a little something, but not enough to distract me completely the way it usually does when it's loud.

2. Listen to a book rather than songs.  Yes, it's something but I promise you a book doesn't get my juices flowing the way a good song does. 

3. Try to learn a new language.  This sounds really hard but might as well throw another huge challenge into the mix if w're doing it anyway.

4. Play music every, OTHER, mile.  So, yea, I get to hear it but not when I want and/or need it.  I have to turn it off for every other mile, no matter what.

5. Listen to shitty music like country (not my favorite, no disrespect).  Or music that could potentially slow me down like classical (love it, but not for running).  This sounds like it could actually work against me.  Is that good?  I'm not sure.

6. Listen to music on Monday, Wednesday and Friday but not on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.  No matter what the workout is.  Long run?  Doesn't matter.  Track workout?  If it's on Wednesday, sucks for you.

7. Shuffle my playlist.  Okay, this one is lame, but I do like to plan out my music journey each day so not knowing what's coming would make things a little more difficult.  

8. Listen with one earbud instead of two.  Basically, the same concept as turning it down.  But, honestly I don't get nearly as excited or distracted when I can't really hear the music in one ear.

9. Play my music out loud on the phone's speaker.  No headphones at all.  So yea, I'd hear something, but not clearly or loudly.  Basically almost nothing.

10. Start running without music when the weather improves and therefore I am not dreading both the cold and the lack of tunes.  Not sure when that will be given it's 17 degrees out today, but hey.  You never know.

Listen to this:

I'll Be Okay by Michianger

Michigander · I'll Be OK

MY JACKET FOR YOUR STORY

This April I'll be lining up for my eleventh Boston Marathon.  Over the years I have purchased three different official race jackets of various styles and colors.  After 2023, when I purchased this lovely grey number that you see to the left, I swore to myself that I wouldn't buy any more jackets no matter how many more times I was racing.  But then I saw the 2025 jacket.  And I really like it.  Like, a lot.  More than the other three.  And I really like those, too.  So, to make myself feel better, I decided I would give away my 2023 jacket.  I posted on Instagram and asked people to share their craziest race stories. (full post here)  Good race or bad, didn't matter.  Any distance, any outcome.  Now, I would be lying if I said I didn't do this mainly to hear some epic race stories.  I did.  But, I was also. more than happy to give this jacket a new home in the process.  I had no intention of writing up a post about this but then the stories that were shared were so freaking good I had to publish them here on RWM so you, too, could read these crazy tales.  Before I list them all out, I do want to share my own epic race adventure.  I'll try to keep it brief.  But it's the one I would have used had I entered my own contest.  Back in 2017, I ran the Sugarloaf marathon up in nowheresville Maine.  No disrespect.  It is a beautiful area.  But aside from our hotel, there was not much going on.  Normally, this would be fine. But, I was not prepared for the lack of shopping options and it bit me in the ass.  In a nutshell, on race morning I went downstairs to get coffee and was told that the breakfast staff hadn't shown up and therefore there was no coffee made.  I definitely cried a little when I heard this.  Then I got my shit together and hopped on the bus that would take us out to the race start.  It was 6am and the race was starting at 7am.  Obviously our bus broke down.  It started to make loud noises and couldn't get up the hill.  We had to go back to the hotel and get on a new bus and it was now basically minutes before the start of the race.  We finally got off the bus and found the start and as we checked our bags and tried to calm down the freaking gun went off.  Literally, I was holding my bag and looked around like WTF?  I got rid of my bag and started rolling only to eventually run up alongside Joan Benoit Samuelson.  No big deal, right?  Just, like, one of the greatest running legends of all time in the flesh.  We ran about 5-6 miles together and then she dropped out as she had only planned to do 18 as a training run in preparation for Chicago.  But still, I ran a marathon with Joanie.  And she was awesome.  She knew I was trying to break 3 hours and encouraged me along the way, pushing me to pass people and to stay focused.  I mean, you can't make this shit up.  Alas, I did not break 3 hours, but ended up running 3 hours and 16 measly seconds.  Both heartbreaking and awesome as I'd also never come that close to my goal.  I found Joanie after the race and thanked her for pushing me along.  She told me not to worry, that sub-3 was coming.  And, she was, of course, right.  It took a while, but it did eventually happen.  Needless to say this was my wildest race story and I love going back and reading the race review as it always makes me smile.  Also, I never travel without a coffee machine anymore.  So, that was a very valuable lesson.  I will never forgive that guy.  Okay, back to the gems below.  Here are some of the stories that were shared with me last week.  The two highlighted in orange were the winners.  Both incredible.  I couldn't decide so I gave away a second jacket.  You know what that means, right??  Enjoy!

TOP 10 WILDEST RACE STORIES

w/ Joan Benoit Samuelson at the Sugarloaf marathon, my craziest

1. In 2023, I went to run the Blue Ridge half marathon. We stayed right outside of town and I drove our car to a parking garage. I did not know anything other than the floor. I parked and walked straight to the starting area kind of on auto pilot; anyway at the end of the race - which was fine - no major snafus, I went to go back to my car and realized that there are multiple parking garages in the city of Roanoke. I had to walk through each one to find my vehicle. It took about four!! from that moment on I learned to drop a pin.

2. I was at mile 23 of NY marathon. A guide-runner, running with a blind man, had to drop out. He grabbed the tether and asked me to help the blind man finish…and then told me he only spoke French. We tethered him to me and I used my high school French skills to verbally guide the runner to the finish.

3. Once I put the wrong city in my GPS when I was going to the race. Got to my "destination" and realized I was over 30-40 min away from where the race actually was. I pulled into a parking garage at the time the race was starting, sprinted my way to the start and straight through the line (2 minutes after the gun went off) and finished 3rd female

4. Still being in the porta potty at the Asheville half marathon when the gun went off (typical for little miss late)….still podiumed, miraculously ;)

5. In 2011, my first Boston, there was a fire alarm at our hotel at 4am and the entire hotel of runners were in the parking lot. THEN, on the bus, the women around me had to pee, so did I, I always have to pee. The bold one asked the bus driver to pullover so they could. He did, and I joined them for relief. We get back on the bus. It had poured the days before and the driver didn’t just pull over on the shoulder, he dropped the right side of the bus off the side and IT WAS STUCK IN THE MUD when he tried to go. I prepared myself for the lord of the flies attack from the panicking runners, but instead, the entire bus got out and pushed the bus out of the mud! Then everyone used the loo and off we went again. What a site we must’ve been! 

6. One night prior to a race I woke up to take an ibuprofen because I had a raging headache (I normally take 800mg for my headaches). I accidentally took 4 Imodium instead…no shit…literally! 

7. Ran 25 miles of the MCM w/my husband. Looked down watching my feet a second (you know “left, right, left, right” mantra) looked up and couldn’t find him. Every blooming man running had on a shirt similar colored. I climbed the hill by security dogs and watched left and right for him (he had no phone with him). Gave up and went to the finish line. Dry heaving and panicked. Called our kids at the hotel who said he hadn’t tracked as finished. Got as close to the finish line as security would let me and waited. 30 mins later I see him coming. He also looked down, lost sight of me, ran backwards over a mile, saw medics helping someone, panicked til he realized it wasn’t me. Finally hobbled to the finish where I was able to wave him down (not thrilled that I beat him but he also ran 28.5 miles that day.)

8.Tracking glitched during the run of a 90 degree half ironman - instead of assuming there was no way I’d run a 3 minute mile and then a 15 minute mile my mom panicked that I’d collapsed and sent my dad out to go look for me and he missed the finish.

9. I ran a half marathon and called my friend in the middle of it for motivation. *Okay, this one doesn't sound too crazy compared to the others but it is because Franz, who share it, is a thrower at LHS and never in a million years would I have guessed he'd run a half marathon.

10. Two years ago, my 10 year old daughter convinced me to sign up for a 5k - our first race ever. This year, on January 1st, we ran in the Resolution 5k at Magnuson Park in Seattle. We both placed first in our respective age groups! *And this one isn't too wild either but I love it for obvious reasons.

Listen to this:

Wanna Start A Band? by Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells · Wanna Start A Band?

WINTER MESSAGES

Winter training is tough.  We all know this.  I do my best to find the positives and keep my complaining to a minimum but sometimes Mother Nature gets the best of me.  Like last week, for example.  It was single digits almost every day and sub-zero with the windchill.  Then on Saturday, it snowed quite a bit.  Let's just say I did a little victory dance on Sunday when I'd successfully gotten through the week.  But, alas, it's January. And therefore we are in this winter "situation" for a while.  I'm lucky that I have friends and teammates to run with once in a while.  That definitely cushions the blow.  But when I'm solo, things are harder.  Motivating to get out there is a feat in and of itself.  Then, the run itself, particularly when conditions are bad, is also inevitably challenging.  Sharks in the ocean in the summer time?  Whatever.  Ice on the road in winter?  I am literally scared to death.  Because falling.  Obviously.  I don't even want to take the risk.  Today as I ran down Route 3 in Winchester I hopped out onto the road because the sidewalk was covered in snow and ice.  Seems logical, right?  And yet, still, drivers were annoyed with me because I was on the road with them.  Now, I get it.  Sometimes things get tight and a driver's options are limited.  And I'm sure it's annoying to creep by a runner and feel like you might hit them.  But more often than not I don't have a choice.  I'm not going to run on ice.  I'm just not.  I will do my best to stay over to the side and not get in the way but I'm not putting myself at risk of falling.  As I cruised along this morning I thought of things I would like people, mainly drivers, to know about the my training situation and what I'd tell them if they could hear me. Then I thought it would be funny if I got a shirts made with these statements on them and wore them throughout the winter months.  Perhaps it would smooth things over or, at the very least, explain my logic for being out there on any given day.  So here's what I came up with.  And does anyone out there work in printing?  Asking for runners everywhere.

~ The sidewalks are a shit show.

~ The bike path is not clear.

~ The track is not clear.

~ I'm training for Boston (or any spring marathon).

~ I like being outside.

~ I don't have a treadmill.

~ I loathe the treadmill.

~ I am running 20 miles & I refuse to do that on a treadmill.

~ I can't take today off.

~ Yes, I know this seems crazy.

~ Yes, I'm choosing to do this.

~ Yes, I do this for fun.

~ It's winter. Please share.

~ The situation is temporary.

~ I know.

~ I get it.

~ I don't like it either.

~ Sorry. Not sorry.

Listen to this:

Can't Win by LABRYS

LABRYS · Can't Win