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
Great adventure! Love it! Nice job y’all!
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