"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.
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.
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
