San Antonio R&R Marathon Race Report

I don't even know where to begin here. I guess I should back up about a week and a half. One thing I have always prided myself on is being a mentally tough runner. I may not be as talented as others, but there is something to be said about having a tough mental frame of mind, particularly in a marathon.

Something I've really been struggling with in 2012 is my mental game. A DNF and a 4 hour marathon performance in Boston really shook me up and made me question where I am going as a runner. I've noticed these negative feelings creep back up lately as I'm dealing with these blasted leg issues on and off (I'm sorry, I know you are sick of hearing about them). After deciding not to race Run for the Water a few weeks ago and see myself start to slip into an 'I don't give a hoot' attitude about San Antonio attitude, I decided I needed to get my act together. I am not a naturally talented runner; everything I have is due to hard work and  being as strong and stubborn as a mule. If I lost my mental toughness, well, then I might as well throw in the towel.

I began re-reading a book that I have read and re-read several times throughout my life. It's called 'Winning Every Day' by Lou Holtz. I love this book as Coach Holtz's principles apply not only to sports but to every day life. I spent last week reading this book to re-strengthen my mental game going into San Antonio. One passage that I have probably read a thousand times where Lou is addressing his team always resonates with me:

"You plan. You commit to excellence. And if it happens, if you achieve your highest goal, you have the reward of knowing it was by your efforts that you earned it. Today, that has happened. If some day it doesn't, if you don't always achieve your goal, be sure that is not for want of trying. If you gave it the best you had in you, you cannot ask yourself for more. No on can ask you for more."

So going into San Antonio, I knew I had to simply focus on doing the best I could do on that particular day. That's all I could ask of myself. There was no room for half-assing and there was no room for doubt. I would not be proud of myself if I didn't give 100%. 

In the end, I decided to go with a watch for the race, though I had planned not too. I turned the pace feature off the screen and was just left with mileage and running time. My plan was to look at my first few miles to make sure I wasn't being over ambitious and then only check time at the half and 20 mile marks.

As you know, the weather didn't cooperate for us. Over dinner the night before I expressed some concern to Dan about how I would run. Mostly I was concerned about the wind. Heat I can handle, even the humidity, but the combo of heat, humidity and wind left me a little concerned. He reminded me that I am a better bad weather runner than most. I always seem to fare better in races where conditions suck and that is in large part due to mental strength. He had confidence in me, I just needed to have confidence in myself.

Anyway, normal pre-race routine for me. Normal 2 mile warm-up, some extra hydration and lined up in Corral 1. I watched the elites warm-up in awe as I always do and tried to get psyched for what I knew would be a tough day. At 7:30 AM, the gun went off and they released the Elite Corral and Corral 1. Since they start the half marathon and marathon at the same time, it's very easy to go out too fast. Although the half marathoners had different color (blue) bibs, it's hard to tell who is running what and when you see a lot of people zoom by you, it's very easy to get caught up in it. And, I did. First mile was around 7:05. Oops.

Hey idiot, slow down! And by idiot I mean me ;)

Admittedly, I felt great the first few miles. Looking back at the results, my first 5k was in 22:27. Too fast.

At Mile 4, I started to feel the effects of starting out too fast and slowed down. I needed to stay steady - I still had a long way to go. To be honest, this race didn't start to get memorable to me until about Mile 15. I can't say much about the earlier miles expect that they were hot, and by Mile 7 I was starting to lose a little bit of focus. Instead of focusing on the mile I was in, I was already dreading reaching Mile 11 where the half would split off from the full. From past experience, I knew at that point it meant two things: 1) We would be running away from downtown, which would mean there would be no high rises to block and lessen the impact of the wind. And, 2) Once we split from the 1/2ers, it would get very lonely out there.

Oh hey guy in green - any chance you want to change bibs??

I stayed pretty steady through the split at Mile 11, though I wasn't feeling great. I would be lying if the thought of bowing out and making the split with the half-marathoners didn't briefly cross my mind. I saw other people do it. But, I plodded on. I told myself: “Erin, you can do this. Everyone else is battling the same conditions."

Miles 11-14 were tough for me. I wasn't falling off pace but I questioned my ability to keep that pace for another 13 miles. I hit the half way mark in 1:36:52. The wind had picked up, the sun was blaring and shady spots on the course were scarce. They were a few men in close proximity, but I wasn't able to find a consistent running partner for very long. Somewhere around the half way point, my leg would lock up a few times causing me to misstep, and then of course that was all I could focus on. My leg, the wind, the heat were rotating thoughts in my mind. Maybe I'll just slow down.

At Mile 15 the game changed for me. A complete 180. About Mile 14, a crew member drove by and said he thought I was in 5th place for the females. I went from thinking 'this sucks' to 'hmmm, maybe I am doing better than I thought. Let's hang in there.' At this point I couldn't see any women ahead of me so I didn't know if 5th place meant 1/2 mile behind 4th or 3 miles behind 4th. 

I was soon to find out. Just before Mile 15 we entered a part of the course which was a semi-circle loop so you could easily see runners going out and coming back. I saw a girl in my vicinity and I could tell I was closing in on her. I made the pass at Mile 15. Sweet, I thought! I guess I'm in 4th now. I'm so excited! I'll just hang here! 4th would be awesome!

About a 1/2 of a mile later, I spied another girl in sight. There was a race official riding along next to her on a bicycle. I didn't think anything of it - I had no idea the top 3 runners had bicycle escorts, obviously I have never been there before ;). I started to close the gap on her - at this point I was running with another guy and was just trying to match him stride for stride so I could have some company. As I started to close the gap on the girl in front of me, the gentleman on the bicycle let me know I was 4th woman and that the lady in front of me was third. I thanked him, and was able to make the pass and move into third.

The gentleman on the bicycle stayed with me and told me that #2 wasn't too far ahead of me and that he thought I may be running stronger than her right now and could catch her. This lit a fire under my a$$ and I surged ahead, losing the guy I was running with. The guy on the bicycle continued to ride beside me, and I am still not understanding that he is a bicycle escort who would stay with me for the remainder of the race.

Must.Not.Slow.Down

Just before Mile 17, I see #2 female. She has a gentleman riding alongside of her on a bike as well. Aha! A light bulb clicks and I realize they are bicycle escorts. Sweet!! I have a companion now if I can stay in the top 3.

At Mile 17, I make my pass and move into second place. The girl is very gracious in the pass and tells me I look strong and that she is not feeling well. I tell her to stay strong and hang with me. We only have 9 miles left. She stays about 10 seconds behind me for about a mile then my new bike friend tells me she has dropped off. He's says #1 is pretty far ahead (about a mile ahead and running strong) but thought I could take second if I keep running strong.

Miles 14-20 were actually when the wind was the worst but I will tell you once I made that pass at Mile 17, I was propelled by pure and sheer will power. I didn't think about a damn thing - not the weather, not my leg, not how far I had left - from about Mile 17-20. I powered forward not looking at my watch once for the remainder of the race - my only focus was to hang on to second place and make it to that finish line no matter what it took. I repeated over and over again to myself the following phrase: "the only thing standing between myself and 2nd place is me”.

I made it to Mile 20, and that's where the first signs of dehydration began too show. I was grabbing as much water as possible but couldn't get rid of the constant thirst. There was no shade from Mile 20 on, and the sun was starting to beat me down. I am so thankful for my new friend on the bicycle. Not only was he encouraging me, he was clearing the course for me (keeping people from running out in front of me which was even more helpful once we merged again with the half marathoners) and also letting everyone know I was #2 female coming through...which elicited tons of cheers from the crowd, ultimately willing me forward.

I did not stop running, I did not slow down. I pressed on like I stole something. I passed a lot of people struggling and several who were now walking. No one has passed me since before the half way point. At Mile 21, my bicycle escort (whose name I now know is Phil) radioed into the finish line to let them know I was 5 miles out and feeling good. He said they announced my name and status at the finish line. All I can think is that Dan will hear this and be so very proud. Again, this wills me forward. There is a sweet little girl on the sidelines cheering for me and holding out a full bottle of water asking if I want it. I graciously take it and down all 16 ounces in less than a minute while trying not to lose stride.

The last 4 miles were tough. I am having to fight harder and harder for every step; I am tired; I am thirsty; I am ready to be done. I am literally being propelled to the finish line by the energy from the crowds and Phil who is letting everyone know we have the #2 female coming through. I am so thankful that these people are cheering so loudly for me, a nobody from Georgetown, Texas, that I refuse to slow down and I acknowledge everyone I can with a thank you or a wave (when I could no longer get words out). I choke on tears more than once because I am so humbled by this entire experience. To elites this may be an every day occurrence - no big deal - but  to me it was a dream come true.

As I neared and tried to sprinted to the finish, all I could think was “you did it!”. Phil congratulated me & captured this photo at Mile 26 and it sums up exactly  how I was feeling: pure excitement.

Giddy.

Steps away from the finish line.

I will say that crossing the finish line never felt so good. Over the course of 3 hours and 15 min I went from struggling and second guessing myself to a big smile and overwhelming sense of accomplishment. What an emotional roller coaster.

If I had to choose the same conditions, I would do it all over again. Not because I ran a personal best, but because I learned some things about myself. I learned that even in times of panic that I have the ability to calm myself. I learned that even when the weather gods provides unruly conditions that I am one tough competitor. I learned that there is a reason why I work hard day in and day out. There have been (many) times over the last year when I've questioned why I do all this: why do I get up at the 4 am hour every day to run? Why do I give up my lunch break or evenings to fit in a second workout? Why, why, why do I sacrifice so much when I will never be a professional athlete, when I will never get paid to do this, when I simply don't have the genetic talent of the top runners? Well, days like Sunday are why. Though I may never finish in the top at a big race again, while I may never make another cent off of this sport, and while I may never have the pleasure of being escorted by a bike and treated like a rock star, that is okay. I got to experience it once and that was all I needed as affirmation that hard work will pay off and it is worth it.

As I said before, I'm quite confident that I would not have placed as high had the conditions had been favorable. Although this race wasn't an ideal day for many athletes, the day provided the opportunity for other athletes, like me, to shine.  And for that, I am thankful.

The day only continued to get better with the tremendous awards ceremony, VIP access and the Jo Dee Messina concert. I was (and still am) on Cloud Nine.

Thank you isn't enough to Dan, to my new friend Phil, to every single person who cheered me on, encouraged me and has congratulated me. I will never forget this day. Thank you for sharing in my excitement. I've said before and I'll say it again: if I can do it, so can you.