Hartford Marathon 2023: I'll be There for You

And, with that, the 2023 season is officially over.  It's without a doubt, not the way I thought it would close out, but the last year....two years....four years..... have taught me that "PIVOT" is a real way of living and that while it hasn't been my day, week, month or even my year, I probably should have paid closer attention to Friends when I was in college (am I dating myself here?) - because really - it probably taught me all I need to know.

Hence the theme of this race report.  On to Hartford.

When we last left the story, I threw down my Kona announcement and even though it was incredibly hard, the love you guys showed me was something I will NEVER forget.  Armed with that, a little "fuck it" attitude, and one great friend that makes equally idiot decisions (thought he opted for the half marathon, so really, who's the idiot here) and we were headed for HARTFORD!

The day before the race, we met up in Victor (Ryan lives in PA, so this was a total gold friend move - he drove 16 hours total - and raced 13 - to hang with me for 48 hours.) and headed east.  We passed the five...ok....six...hours on I-90 by catching up, eating bad snacks, and talking race goals and 2024 goals.  Ryan had zero expectation for his half, as he hasn't been running long, and I had no idea what to expect.  We got into talking about speedwork and fast 200's, and I confided that my speed sucked and that I couldn't even break 1:30 in a 200.  He looked at me like I was an idiot (is this news, people) and I'll admit, it took a good few minutes of going back and forth to realize I meant 400s, not 200s - whoops! (a 1:30 200 is a 12:00 minute mile).  Math.  With that, the new goal became to break 1:30 for 109 repeats of 200 yards in the marathon! (Which would be a 5 hour plus race.  For perspective).

Without much fuss, we got our bibs (I am so serious) and checked into the hotel.  Pre race dinner was some sort of Teriyaki noodle dish, not enough water, and peanut butter cups for dessert.  What could possibly go wrong?

I legit had no goals for this race - but the peanut gallery (Greg, Mean Dude and Ryan) all had some insight and they all predicted a PR, which freaked me out.  Mean Dude advised just respecting the distance but using my fitness.  (I did not listen to either of these - spoiler alert.  It's important to note that Mean Dude did NOT coach this race - he is much smarter than what I did).

I gave up on goals - they were stupid.  Tossed and turned and race morning, ate a dry bagel, threw on some gear, added my Kona flowers, and headed out!  Parking was a dream - we got a spot not only close to bag drop but right next to Dunkin.  I got some coffee, we hung out in the car, and I told Ryan I wasn't sure I wanted to wake up...errr....warm up.  (Actual slip or truth?  Who knows).  Grudgingly, we did.  My body honestly felt like hell - I'm not sure if it was the drive or the crap nutrition, but my back hurt, breathing was off, and a 9 minute mile felt like crap.  This was gonna be FUN!  Of course, I treated pre race like a dedicated athlete  by dancing around like an idiot to "Jump Around" - prompting Ryan to throw down that he wanted to see the same dance in 4 hours, lol.  Done.  Before I knew it, we hit the portos one last time and headed to the start.  

Or....that was the 5k start!  SHIT!  (Friendly reminder - read the damned athlete guide).  The half and full start was about half a mile down the road in the OPPOSITE direction, so I raced toward it and made the start about 10 seconds before the gun went off (this was probably foreshadowing right here).  Before I knew it (literally) we were OFF!

Miles 1-10 went by rather well - I was holding 7:30-7:40/mi pace, which was admittedly a tad rich, but I decided on option "C" with this race - to go out like an idiot and see what happened (otherwise known as the FAFO methos - fuck around and find out....stay tuned!)   My loose A goal was to PR (PR 3:30) but I was totally fine if that didn't happen.  My legs felt pretty good, but I noticed right off the bat any slight uphill hurt my back and was way harder than it needed to be breathing wise.  I was also hungry earlier than normal  - I usually take in a gel every 5 miles but was ready at mile 3 and 7.  The aid stations were spaced nicely, but mostly on the right side, so I had to either reach over or shift my handheld - both first world problems, but caused a dropped cup and the handheld to slip off more than once.  Mile 10 hit in 1:17, which I knew was too fast, but hey, we weren't here to make great choices, right?

Miles 11-16 were also pretty uneventful - hit the halfway mark in 1:40 (WAY THE HELL TOO FAST
RAE) and still felt pretty good.  I met a fellow racer on the same pace and we chatted for a bit but i was honestly in true introspective mode, so I fell silent.  As I ran, I thought about a lot of things - the past year, both the good and the bad, Kona, and also about where I have some as a person and athlete.  One of my friends had loaded me up with songs and some of them hit so deep, I admit, I teared up.  Typical marathon stuff?  Nope.  But this was defintely not a typical day.

I stopped for water about mile 16 - the aid station was set up weird and I wasn't able to grab and go on teh fly.  This was a REALLY bad decision - as I started running again, every muscle in my lower body locked up.  Oh hell,  this was not good.  I slowed and did a few leg swings, but my quads and hamstrings would not cooperate.  I suffered through a few more miles until I hit the rutnaround, and then admitted defeat.  

The next 8 miles were absolute death.  I was thirsty, but I couldn't drink.  I was hungry, but I couldn't eat.  The candy stop at mile 20 did not work - I couldnt get it down.  The coke and mile 22 did not work.  I watched my pace slip from low 8s to high 9s and one 10:00/mile.  I was cooked.  I listened to Eminems "You Don't Know" on repeat - which was ironic, because I DID know, and this was very much so the ending of the "Fuck around....and find out" phase.  Did I go out too hard?  Probably.  Did I make idiot decisions the day before regarding nutrition and driving?  Yep.  I will say - I have never been in so much damned pain - not at Philly, not during any Ironman, and not during any ultras I have run.  Every step was agony.  I did not have anything.

Evidence to the fact that my last 10k took 58 minutes.  My half splits?  1:40/1:56.  Yikes.  Through sheer grit and idiocy, I made it to the finish line (did I have a choice??) in 3:36, for a an 8:12 pace, dumbly enough, a BQ for 2025, and a lot of freaking pain.  (Though I ABSOLUTELY killed those 200s on the 1:30 mark - LOL).

Know what, though?  I regret none of it.  I sent Mean Dude an update and admitted I raced like a moron.  Did my post race dance for Ryan.  Ate a greasy burger, a lot of chocolate, and when I couldn't walk later (my knee was so mad for what I did - but thankfully, it was much better Sunday) Ryan went out and brought me chicken nuggies for dinner.  What a dude.

The weekend was a total success.  It got my mind off Kona, I raced a fun new race, hung out with a good friend, and got away for a little bit.  I'm super grateful for everyone that helped me get through the day with awesome cheering and supportive messages - for Greg for watching our crazy bunch back home, and for Ryan who made the trek with me.  You guys are awesome.

What next?  A little off season, baby, before we kick off Boston training!  The post race week was pretty interesting, and if I can get my shiz together, I'll write another post on that.  

Thats a stretch.  When have I ever had my shiz together?? LOL

You Gotta Have Heart

As I hit "publish" on the Kona post, a million emotions went through my head.  Sadness. Heartbreak. Relief at being able to share.  And a sense of trepidation - as to what the response would be.

You guys.  I am crying.  And I have been crying off and on since yesterday.  They aren't the tears I have shed in the last week - the last month - or the last year.  They are tears of someone who feels so incredibly loved and supported.  I cant thank you enough. Truly.

The loving texts and messages poured in yesterday - both from people who have been experiencing a similar year of struggle and doubt - and from people that reminded me that they have my back, no matter what I need.  Anytime. Always.

From my mother in law.  From my athletes.  From my coach. From my best friend.  From my running and triathlon buddies that I have known for years.  From my family. From the triathlete I met in JUNE - THIS YEAR.  From the runner I met LAST WEEK.  Reminding me that - I mean something to them.  That - I have been there for them (even when I had absolutely no idea - and was just being me).  From a woman I met twice - 3 years ago - and have not seen since that told me "I always thought your life was so amazing.  I never knew....that you struggled too".  From several fellow parent athletes who relayed their struggles to balance parenting and sports.  

There was not one single "Rae, its Kona.  WTF are you doing.  GO. You're an idiot".  

You guys.  I love you.  I love you so damned much.  And, as I read through every message with tears in my eyes, I feel so incredibly cared for and loved and I had no idea....that existed. I screenshot.....every single one.  To save, always. To remember that when life hits hard...I have people that care.

It gives me strength. And courage.  And in a year where that has been in very short supply, this means more....than you'll ever know.

As most people understood, I only scratched the surface in that last post.  There's a whole "under the iceberg" to this part of life right now that has been so incredibly hard to carry.  But with the help of so darn many of you, it feels a little more manageable.

It's been a hard month.  A hard week - watching all of the Kona emails come in, seeing my bib number (1286, baby) and knowing that Saturday will be really, really tough.

So a few weeks ago, I did what I do best - and made lemons out of lemonade. When something happens - all the power you have is in how you react. While a trip to Hawaii isn't feasible right now....a day and a half...was.  I had no desire to sit at home Saturday and moan about this, sadly watching the Kona coverage.  I also knew I had to do SOMETHING with my training.  So with the help of the internet, a consult of the 36 states I have left to run a marathon in to hit my "50 state goal", and a few handy "dumb decision" friends, we found a winner.

And in the vein of being oddly fitting, a place to go find my heart....errrr..."hart".

This Saturday, I'll be tackling state #16 in Hartford, Connecticut by running the Hartford Marathon.  I'm armed with road snacks, bad music, and the aid of a friend that I can call and say "hey - wanna run a race this weekend in the middle of nowhere?" and the answer is, "HELL YEAH!"

We all need those friends.

And I am so lucky to have those in spades.

The outcome isn't important.  At all.  It'll be a weekend of laughs, of tears, and of looking up around
me, being grateful for what I have, what I can do, and the people beside me. 

I won't forget what happened when I was at my lowest.  

You were there.  

And now, while I go find me....I know I have all the support and the love in the world.  Thank you.  So damned much.  All of you. 

The Gambler- An Update on Kona

 

Oh, friends.  I've been sitting on this post for awhile, but its time. Time to come clean.

This is possibly...one of the toughest posts I've ever written.  And it's fitting with 2023, which has been, without a doubt, one of the toughest years of my life.  You see me on here in a form of balance - I've always promised to be honest with you, whether its killin' it on the race course with a win, a "Q" or a PR - or on the days when life is tough and hands you a shit sandwich.

My 40th year on this planet has absolutely been one of those years.  A year of incredible accomplishments - some amazing PR's, a Boston Qualifying Marathon, and a Kona Qualifying Ironman. Epic new friendships and amazing experiences. 

It's also been a year of incredible lows, that have left me crying in a corner, sobbing through a run, or sitting on my best friend's couch, working our way through chocolate and wine. 

It's not the balance I had in mind, but it's life.  And it's real.  And I know that whatever the outcome of this stage in my life is - that I'm strong enough to handle it.  Even if it doesn't feel that way right now.

It's hard to share life when you aren't killin' it.  Yesterday, I had a talk with a new athlete and we got into social media - how what you share isn't real.  How its covered with a layer of shine.  I...don't do that, but I do cover it with a layer of humor that works equally well as a defense mechanism.

And if you dig through the humor, especially in the last month, you'll see the truth.  I've been flat. I've been struggling.  I've been going through the motions of heading toward the finish line for the biggest race of my life.  I've hit the numbers, and I've completed 95% of the metrics mean dude sends to me.

But a few weeks ago, I realized that...a huge piece was missing.  I'm not injured - my body is still going.  But its not going well, because I'm missing a much bigger piece. My heart - is not there.  My brain- is not there.  Where I am in life right now - its not a time to go to Hawaii for ten days to finish a 140.6.  

And that's the distinction with a race like this. It's not a race to "finish" - to go through the motions. When you get to mile 90 on the bike, and you're in the middle of a lava field, and its a million degrees out - your legs will want to quit.  And you need to find a way to keep them going.  With your mind.  And your heart. When you look at the finish line - especially the iconic end of a race you've been eyeing with longing for 18 years like a kid in a candy store - knowing that Ali'i drive is right now....just a road...why go?  Not for a race like this.

I remember the last half mile of the Philly marathon so well.  The tears in my eyes as I knew I was going to hit a BQ.  And the last mile of the Ironman at Texas - the emotion was just so incredibly real.  I wanted to be there. Those were....amazing days. I won't forget them.  And for months ahead of time, for both races -  while up at 4am, on the trainer, or in the freezing cold - I saw those moments.  I saw my loved ones at the finish line, waiting for me.  I saw the medal.  I saw the dream. I knew what I wanted and I threw my whole heart, body and soul into those races.

I don't see that right now.  And, along with a lot of life things going on - that made my choice.  I can't do that for Kona.  Not this race. This race means too damned much to just be "a race".

It's heartbreaking, and I am sad.  But I know I made the right choice.  And since the moment I made this decision four weeks ago....I haven't doubted it once.  I made it as an athlete.  As a person.  As a mom.  And as a family member.  On every level - it was right.  Even though it hurts - in my heart, I know it was right. 

In the past five years, I have learned so many lessons about life and this sport. After Lake Placid 2018, I sat down and thought really hard about what I wanted out of myself as an athlete (check it out). I had hit rock bottom and knew I needed to make some changes.

And the one line that jumped out at me that 2018 Rae wrote was this....

Because I am afraid.  I am afraid of speed on the Keene descent.  I'm afraid of not holding the brakes in aero.  And I sat myself into a huge nutritional hole because I am afraid to eat a clif bar on the fly.

If 2018 Rae triathlete could see 2023 Rae triathlete....she would never believe it.  In the past five years, I've learned to throw caution to the wind.  I've learned to run fast, and with people I have "no business running with".  I've learned to love my bike and be comfortable - in aero - one handed, and yes, flying downhill at 50 mph. (I haven't learned to swim, but hey, everyone needs goals).  I learned...to jump in and take a chance.  To go for it and give it my all.  And the rewards on the race course - and the friendships I have made off the course - are immeasurable. And I am so damned grateful for all of them. 

And maybe this was the final lesson.  To learn when to call the audible. I never thought it would be for Kona, but then again, when do we expect life lessons.  That's what they are there for. They aren't easy.

But it's different this time.  I don't have the doubt for myself as a person or as an athlete.  I KNOW that I can qualify again, and I will.  When the time is right.  I'll be back.  With my whole heart, body and soul.  I'll be back.  And with the grace and love of the people closest to me who have been absolute angels through this difficult chapter - I'll get through it.  I love you guys so damned much. You have no idea. You know who you are.

Everything in life is somewhat of a gamble.  You gotta know when to hold 'em.  When to fold 'em. 

This time - it was time to walk away.  (Probably also time to run - you can roll your eyes now, it's okay). 

But I'll be back.  And next time - it'll be right.  And the comeback....it's gonna be spectacular.

Right now - it's time to take life as it is.  To step back, and re-affirm that balance.  It's not always easy, but I know it'll be worth it.  Thank you guys.  For your support.  For believing in me.  And for being there.  You'll never know....how much it means to me.  Truly. 

So whats next?  Well, you know that I'm not the type of girl to just throw down without something in my back pocket.  I'm off to find my heart.  And this weekend, I'll be on that path.  Stay tuned.