It doesn’t matter if it a low-key race, if you are training through, or if it is a flat course. A marathon is still a marathon, no matter the pace. So as much as I downplayed the Akasia 3-in-1 race, I still ran easy the day before and ate well. I spent Saturday drinking lots of water and avoiding the BBQ and margaritas. I was ready to run a solid marathon on Sunday. The problem was, the race was on Saturday.
I don’t know why I thought it was on Jan. 23rd. Everything I had done to prepare for this race told me it was Sunday. Every conversation I had implied the race was on this day. Why, oh why, was this race Saturday morning? People kept asking me how the race went and I was totally confused. But sure enough, Saturday morning had come and gone, and I missed it. For the first time in my life, I accidentally missed a race.
Bitter about my stupidity, I played some cards with friends and went home, determined to get in a long run in the morning. It was about 10pm. If I were racing I would have been in bed earlier. I would have risen at 4 to drive to the race. I rose at 7. It was pouring rain. I did not want to get out there, wet and miserable, chaffing the whole way. So I waited it out. The rain finally ceased around 830 and off I went, ignoring Sarah’s pleas to take money for drinks. I just left.
By 3 miles, the sun was wide open and toasting me. No, I didn’t bring sunscreen. I was baking. I turned at 10 miles and started to come back, taking in a Gu I had shoved in my shorts. But this route had 3 category 5 hills on it, and soon I started to suffer. When you go to a race, you rest well, hydrate well, wake early, eat smart, get in the mindset, and have thousands of people pulling you along with water stops every 2k. When you flake out, you struggle to get up, eat a bowl of Frosted Flakes, take no water, and begin a death march to the end. I nearly walked on a massive hill at 14 miles. But mile 19 was where I truly gained humility. I hit the wall and it was a miserable crawl to home.
Another crappy result from bonking is the soreness and depleted feeling for days after. I really screwed this up. If I had raced, I would have coasted a nice 3:20 and been running a day later. Now I was hating moving. But I rallied and went to running club on Thursday with an extra day off. Toeing the line in the time trial I was ready to run smart, backing off on the early hills and bringing it home on the 2nd lap. A 31 min effort would have been fine. But I cruised the first lap and found myself easily in front and finished in control for a 29:57 8k. It was my 3rd fastest time for the horribly hard course, yet a relatively ‘easy’ effort. Even some good can come from flaking out.
I don’t know why I thought it was on Jan. 23rd. Everything I had done to prepare for this race told me it was Sunday. Every conversation I had implied the race was on this day. Why, oh why, was this race Saturday morning? People kept asking me how the race went and I was totally confused. But sure enough, Saturday morning had come and gone, and I missed it. For the first time in my life, I accidentally missed a race.
Bitter about my stupidity, I played some cards with friends and went home, determined to get in a long run in the morning. It was about 10pm. If I were racing I would have been in bed earlier. I would have risen at 4 to drive to the race. I rose at 7. It was pouring rain. I did not want to get out there, wet and miserable, chaffing the whole way. So I waited it out. The rain finally ceased around 830 and off I went, ignoring Sarah’s pleas to take money for drinks. I just left.
By 3 miles, the sun was wide open and toasting me. No, I didn’t bring sunscreen. I was baking. I turned at 10 miles and started to come back, taking in a Gu I had shoved in my shorts. But this route had 3 category 5 hills on it, and soon I started to suffer. When you go to a race, you rest well, hydrate well, wake early, eat smart, get in the mindset, and have thousands of people pulling you along with water stops every 2k. When you flake out, you struggle to get up, eat a bowl of Frosted Flakes, take no water, and begin a death march to the end. I nearly walked on a massive hill at 14 miles. But mile 19 was where I truly gained humility. I hit the wall and it was a miserable crawl to home.
Another crappy result from bonking is the soreness and depleted feeling for days after. I really screwed this up. If I had raced, I would have coasted a nice 3:20 and been running a day later. Now I was hating moving. But I rallied and went to running club on Thursday with an extra day off. Toeing the line in the time trial I was ready to run smart, backing off on the early hills and bringing it home on the 2nd lap. A 31 min effort would have been fine. But I cruised the first lap and found myself easily in front and finished in control for a 29:57 8k. It was my 3rd fastest time for the horribly hard course, yet a relatively ‘easy’ effort. Even some good can come from flaking out.
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