"Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength."
~ Arnold Shawrzenegger
On Saturday I ran my 37th marathon in Hartford, CT.
My goal was to "crush it", as my friend, Halston suggested. Ideally, I wanted to finish in under 3 hours but truly I just wanted to run strong and have fun. I had a really solid training block for this one and after talking to my coach, I felt cautiously optimistic. I was heading down to CT on Friday afternoon with my Whirlaway teammate Lauren and her sister Meghan and then the next morning we were meeting up with our other teammates, Allyson and Katy who were also racing. So it was a run-family affair, which always makes these things more exciting. Normally I like to arrive at a race with enough time to grab my number and then sit and relax a bit before turning in. That was just not an option this time as I had XC practice before I left and really wanted to be there for that. So, I ate dinner in the car and attempted to roll out my legs with a tennis ball as we sat in traffic. We pulled into Hartford around 6:15pm. When we arrived at the expo I was surprised to see a life sized poster of myself from last year's race. They had not told me they were doing this and I was humbled if not a wee bit embarrassed. But, also, it's kind of cool and Lauren insisted on the photo. After we got our bibs and shirts we made our way up to our hotel rooms for the rest of the evening making plans to meet up in the morning to walk over to the start together. 
My race gear was out and ready to go. When we started this race in 2024 the temps were in the 30s so I brought throw away clothes and an old blanket to keep myself warm as we waited in the tent. Shivering before a race starts is no bueno. I ate one more small meal and drank the rest of the Powerade that I'd bought earlier that afternoon as a way to get some more calories in later in the day. More on this later.
I was in bed at 8:00pm and out by 8:30. Nothing new there. The race was starting at 8:00am so I set my alarm for 5:00 so I could wake up, enjoy some coffee, eat some oatmeal and have time to relax and digest before making my way over. It was a very easygoing morning for me and I was happy to be starting things off feeling pretty relaxed both physically and mentally. I met Lauren and Meghan along with our friend Mary down in the lobby at 6:50 and the three of us walked over to meet up with Katy and Allyson.
Pre-race with Mary, Lauren and Megan
The weather was pretty perfect. It was in the 50s and cloudy. I was very happy about this. We found the tent and our friends, dropped our bags and spent some time getting organized and ready to walk over to the line. So far, the day had been hassle free and I was really grateful for this as my nerves were now kicking into high gear. Around 7:45 the race organizers gathered us up and led us over to the start corral. Ready or not. It was go time.
Calm before the storm
THE RACE:
Miles 1-5 (6:44, 6:51, 6:50, 6:39, 6:43, 6:43)
I was standing next to my teammate, Allyson, who was aiming to run the same time as I was as well as next to a lovely gal named Maria who told me she was also shooting for this pace. It's always nice to have some people that share your goal to work with, at least for the start of the race. At 8:00am the gun blew and we were rolling. It's easy to start off too fast on this course because the beginning is downhill so it's key to reign yourself in and make sure you don't get too excited. Very similar to Boston that way. The three of us locked into step together and began cruising. We checked in on our first couple miles and after finding a good rhythm we put ourselves into cruise control. The pace felt good, my body was happy, my mind was sharp. I was really good. Like, better than usual. We rolled through some water stops and passed cups back and forth without issue. Things were right where I wanted them to be.
Miles 6-10 (6:43, 6:43, 6:42, 6:45, 6:50)
Still right on pace, I began to whisper some mantras to myself. Breathe. Stay calm. Find your flow. And so on. Around mile 8 I felt like I needed to use the bathroom. No big deal. I've done this often mid-race and have figured out how to zip in and zip out in just seconds. I wasn't worried, though I wasn't seeing a porto anywhere and started to get a little preoccupied with the situation. At mile 10 I finally saw one I let Allyson know my plan and wished her good luck. Sucks to loose your pace buddy but sucks more to be uncomfortable. So I dealt really fast, as planned, and hopped back in without losing much time.
Miles 11-21 (7:05, 6:53, 6:56, 7:05, 7:16, 7:16, 7:31, 7:29, 7:27, 7:37, 7:33)
For the first couple miles post-break I was fine. But then, I wasn't. It was my stomach. I started to feel nauseous. And with each mile, it got worse. I'd taken two gels at this point and was going to need at least two more. When I tried to take my third I gagged. It was not going down. Obviously, I was slowing. I felt like the more I moved the worse it felt so I tried to ease up on pace and keep my motion to a minimum. Now I was stressed. It was a serious dilemma. I needed the fuel. But I could not take the fuel. I was taking baby sips of water and trying to just eat the gel little bits at a time. But the nausea was getting worse and now I was just wondering if I could hold on until the finish. Around mile 19, a lovely gal, who I would later learn was named Colleen, pulled up next to me and asked how I was doing. I told her I couldn't keep anything down and didn't know what to do. She felt bad, asked if I needed elctrolytes or wanted to try one of her gels instead of what I had. She talked to me for about 2 miles and told me not to freak out if I ended up having to puke and rally. She tried to get me to keep up with her but I just kept feeling worse until she finally pulled ahead. I might have cried a little here. Happens.
Mile 22 - 26.2 (8:03, 7:54, 7:51, 8:03, 8:23, 7:32)
And then my stomach waved the white flag. I had to pulled over to the side and everything came out. I won't go into detail, but I did notice that it was orange which I thought was odd because I'd only been drinking clear liquid (water and UCan) on the course. After that I took a second to reset and then started back up. Honestly, I felt notably better. But, I was now very dehydrated and scared to take in any more fluids or fuel. My legs were fine. My stomach was in knots and I had really bad cramping so I was running hunched over as this felt better than standing up straight. Oh my, this last part was long. Every minute felt like ten. It's hard to do anything after throwing up but really hard to finish a marathon. It was sheer will that got me to that line. Somehow I managed to finish in 3 hours and 12 minutes despite the bathroom stop, the slow down and the vomit session. Side note, if you're reading this and I was on your yard, I'm really sorry. When I was done, I fell into Lauren's arms, literally and just stood there in total disbelief. I'd done it. It had been terrible. But I'd done it.
I sat and processed for a few minutes as I tried to put on my sweats. I was obviously sad, angry, annoyed; all of it. This one was easily one of my hardest to get through both mentally and physically. I kept replaying my days leading up to the race to try and figure out what could have possibly caused this situation. And then, as we hobbled back to the hotel, I had a lightbulb moment. You know how you always hear people say not to try anything new before or on race day? Well, for some reason, despite how many times I’ve heard this, I did it anyway. Yes. Stupid. I was so full from all the calories I was consuming during my carb load that I bought a large orange PowerAde and polished it off between Friday night and Saturday morning. Normally I only drink water and NUUN so why I thought this was a good decision is anyone's guess. Honestly, I don't know if this is what caused me to get sick. I do know that this was the only thing I did differently the 24 hours before the race. So, while I'll never be sure what made me sick, I am 100% sure I should have not thrown something different into the mix. Rookie mistake. Never again....said the 50 year old who's run 37 marathons. Can you feel me rolling my eyes? As we drove home, or Lauren drove us home (bless her), I got a text from my mother-in-law congratulating me on my age group win. At first I thought she was looking at last year's results but, no, she was right. I was the first 50 year old female across the line.
"Rest, recover and feel proud," she said. Some very wise words that I absolutely needed to hear. The marathon is a beast. The training? Also a beast. I know this. You do, too. I’m proud, and I want more. I can be both. But no more orange Powerade. Ever.
Listen to this:
No Pain by Modern Living with Sumner
