It's over!

What a relief - I made it to the finish and didn't have to reckon with my worst of fears: being slower than last year.

This year's time: 5:27
Last year's time: 5:33

It's only six minutes, but it's better than having to say I was slower.... And, I don't mind pointing out that I beat 72-year old Betty Lacharite by 14 minutes. Take that!

Get your fix of cool graphics, check out my results from RunVermont.

How not to spend the week before a race:

Anyone will recommend that you take it really, really easy: light jogging - only a few miles, reduce stress, no yard work or extra work of any kind, lots of rest, eat well. I didn't do any yard work, but everything else pretty much fell apart for me in the days before the marathon:

10 days out:
Poison ivy confirmed, spreads down my left hip and leg

1 week out:
I run 18 miles (despite oozing wounds) because I have to.

6 days out, work week from hell:
Very long days, many details, deadlines that can't be pushed back. Very little quality sleep is coming my way, in fact I don't sleep through the night all week.

4 days out:
Poison ivy is ferocious and spreading to my feet. How do you tie on running shoes when you have poison ivy on your FEET?! Feeling generally rundown, my throat is sore and my voice is coming and going. I go to the doctor, who does a strep test just to be sure about the white spots I see on my throat and puts me on steroids for the poison ivy. (Unfortunately they weren't performance-enhancing steroids.)

3 days out:
Daily cocktail of Prednisone, Sudafed and Advil, not to mention bottles of calamine lotion. Itching starts to subside, but I'm feeling very dehydrated and still not sleeping. Mood changes from resignation to nervousness, fatalism to optimism.

2 days out:
I wasn't able to eat as much or as well as I should have in the days right before the race. My sleep did improve a little, along with fake naps during which I couldn't actually sleep but just sat still. Hitting my foot a few times while playing croquette the night before didn't help.

And yet....

The morning of the race was warmer than predicted, bright and sunny. From the first few yards my right hip ached a bit, but miraculously that went away after a couple of miles. I felt winded, which I can only chalk up to nerves. Once I got through the initial downtown loop and out on the beltline, I felt much more relaxed, much more in control of my run. I was hitting 12-minute miles right on the the nose, which was the best I could hope for. That stretch of highway was a real boost to my spirits: seeing so many runners I knew (coming back from, the the turnaround already...), much less frenzy without the spectators, beautiful views of Camel's Hump.

Coming back into downtown around Mile 9, I still felt strong and was still exactly on a 12-minute pace. Stopped to apply some Chapstick and chat with Nadine, Maria and Chiara, then headed to South End. After a few miles, I started to feel things come apart. I had been feeling a pull in my left quad for a while and it wasn't going away, my pace was flagging and so were my spirits. I didn't really consider stopping, but I serious questions about how I would get through the next 14+ miles -- more than half the race still to go. I willed myself up that pesky hill in South Cove, coasted a little into Oakledge Park at the 1/2 way point, then just tried to zone out until the top of Battery Hill. I felt like I just needed to get to mile 16, a little past the police station, and then things might turn around.

Battery Hill was brutal, but it helped to have friends and family at the bottom and the top to keep me motivated. THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO WAS THERE! (I figured if I'm going to drop out, I can't do it right here in front of you all.) True enough, once I got out on North Ave, things calmed down and I was running a lot stronger. Somewhere between Miles 16-20 I actually picked up a lot of time and ran a few 11-minute miles. Passing people who are slower and clearly worse off than you is huge boost.

From Mile 20 on, I was completely consumed with my watch. I knew my time from last year, and I knew what pace I needed to hit in order to match it or beat it. Every time I got to a mile marker I recalculated the time and distance remaining and set a one-mile goal. The heat and fatigue were enough that I could keep only three thoughts in my head:

"12-minute mile. Just one more 12-minute mile."
"I really want to walk. Who cares about last year's time?"
"Do not walk, do not walk, do not walk..."

Also, I made room for these thoughts:

"Why are my hands so swollen? ... I've drunken 3 gallons of water and Gatorade and yet I haven't peed in 4 1/2 hours. I bet that's not good.... Where the hell is the finish line already?"

Happily enough, I did find the finish line, and not on a stretcher like some poor guy apparently did. I crossed the timing pad with a smile and fistful of balloons, a full 6 minutes ahead of last year's time. It's not much, but consider:

- I got injured this year, and when I should have been running my longest miles, I was sitting on the couch.
- Altogether, I probably had 75-100 fewer training miles than last year.
- It was darn hot out yesterday!
- Did I mention the poison ivy and lack of sleep?

Thank you again for all of your messages and encouragement. Next race: Chicago in October!