its now 5:20am. i've been up since 4:00. i'm hungry and thirsty, but the thought of moving to go get a drink is just too painful right now. i feel like i'm getting more recovery in a dehydrated non-moving position than a moving hydrated one... And drinking would mean more trips to the bathroom, which feels like the greatest challenge I've ever faced in my lifetime. when I woke up the first time I negotiated my trip, wondering that if I crawled to the bathroom would I reach the door knobs and feel less pain? That's so ironic- considering i was able to make my body run for almost 4 hours yet a 2 minute trip to the bathroom is an epic journey with severe ramifications for pure aches and pains.
this is hard- this is where i'm going through the questionning period: is it worth it? am i cut out for this? Have i gone too far? (is that a rhetorical/redundant question?) my body hurts so much that i don't want to do anything but recover. i can't sleep- but that's all that i want to do. lying down on my back just doesn't feel comfortable, but any other position is agonizing on my hips and hipflexors...
And - Release. (i just let go of a breath that i think i was holding since i started typing this blog, and i feel an enormous amount of relief)
RACE INFO:
1354 Aynsley O'Carroll Shawnigan Lake,BC
Time 3:46:22 (i crossed the finish line at 3:46:50)
147/852 Females
28/114 Female Category: 25-29
At HAlfway Km Rate: 5:41/km
Halfway Time 1:56:29
Second Half Time: 1:49:53
Second Half Km Rate: 5:22/km
NUTRITION
Every 20 minutes: 2-4 ounces gatorade... and sometimes 4 ounces of water
Every :30 minutes a Cliff power-gel
Every :60 minutes (twice) I ate an Elevate Me square CHunk with coffee beans, dates,
and chocolate
After 2 hours, I stuck to gels.
After the run: 1/2 a bagel, 1/2 a banana, and a whole doughnut (mmm! surprisingly!)
I seemed to forget about all of my recovery recipes: gatorade for hydration, blueberries for
antioxidants, hemp protein, instant carbs - any extra edge to boost recovery.
I was shivering with rebellious joy knowing that it didn't really matter- i have a whole
month ahead of me to recover.
I hobbled to a pub with my parents for a yummy fish burger. It was so satisfying -
so satisfying. I think the French fries made me feel horrible...
note to self next time.
I drank 1/2 ltr of water, a beer, and sprite with salt in it (perfect refreshing sort of
gatorade)
After that i had a queazy stomach and diarrhea. I didn't want to eat all day.
I want to remember this for my ironman... because i want to stay strong the day of and I need to
plan for another 9 hours of competition)
I think that I ate some too-fibre-ee foods the day before (rejuvenator brownies:
mostly flax, pineapple, sesame seeds)
Wow- its hard to report how awesome the race was when i feel this sore right now. i may have to type another blog when i start to feel more like myself. right now i'm a bit of a hater.... which makes it difficult to celebrate the great a day i had.
A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE:
I passed former ironman buddy, Tara, at the 39 mark. She ran a 3:15 marathon 2 years ago and kicks butt at pushing herself hard! Shés an inspiration and a great aly for my ironman journey. When I saw her I was so excited and my words were: "Tara, I'm kicking butt! I'm rocking this race!" I was so proud of myself and so ecstatic about the race for two reasons. It seemed like i was going to either just qualify or arrive close to qualifying for the Boston Marathon, and, I was feeling strong; i didn't hit that wall/ breaking pt. I wanted to finish, I always knew throughout the race that I could finish, and my mind was focussed and strong - it never hassled me.
I'm very proud of this toughness.
I think my time is respectable. I know that its not outstanding: thinking of what is possible if I had trained with weights and more discipline, and knowing that other gals in their first marathon get sub 3:40, sub 3:30 finishing times. But I pushed it. In fact my pace got faster by 18 sec a kilometer by the second half of the marathon.
I felt strong.
Having support there is so important. I kept looking for people in the crowd- and funny enough, i wasn't always seeing the people I expected to see ( I thought that I would see Jim Kingstone and Rob) but I'd randomly hear my name shouted out by people i didn't know were there.
Amanda, from French Camp! WAs at the finish line and said hello!
Evan, I forgot, was on the course to cheer on his girlfriend. I was so pumped up, and I started rowling up the crowd before I even heard him call me. That was neat to have him see me feel so strong and look so happy, it was post 32 km at that point. It was on Dallas Road, at some intersection... And i got so much energy at that moment... I remember tingling inside with warmth and energy (crazy! i'm sounding like i'm from Nelson BC!) I just looked at them and whooped loudly with smiles and cheering hands, and they returned the support 10 fold. When i saw how fun it was for others to be cheered on in the course, I decided that I needed to make connections with the crowd to feel the same support. Amazing how responsive and supportive they were.
My mum and dad... that was unforgettable. I don't think that they've ever been to a marathon. They're now in Qualicum, and my father's now a bit nervous driving in the mountains, so my mum had to drive the journey both ways in the same day to see me. It was probably 41.75km when i saw my mum. The crowd was getting denser, and i could hear the announcer at this point. it was a bit uphill, and I called out in a desperate whimpering voice "Mum." No word of a lie, it was the kind of relieving/desperate tone of someone who just got released from dark isolation or a torture chamber and just saw a loving face for the first time.
She was so cute- she was scrambling with trying to get her camera to work, managing her own excitement for finally identifying me, and trying to talk to me all at the same time. I couldn't slow down for her to take a picture and all she could muster was "Daddy's just at the next corner."
Well he saw me before I saw him. He was shouting my name in his gruff rolling smokey irish accent and then seemed to scramble into a kind of run to join me... He was so excited. It was cute- because you could see how he just wanted to get going on a swift run, and as I passed he was caught in that first moment of transition from total standstill to anaerobic sprint. like that moment before Fred Flinstone gets his car started. Wow- that fired me up to see them.
And they couldn't have been in a better position- those last turns were horrible! Mum and Dad helped me forget about them.
Jon was there- I knew where he was going to be, and it was such an important thing for me. It was a landmark in my race... okay, in 4 minutes you'll be passing Jon... it was like a saving grace- and he was there. Solid, supportive. I suppose one can run the marathon on their own for themselves- but I really feel like these people were part of the race for me - they got me through.
I got a kick out of the families who parked themselves on their front lawns to cheer us on with their random music. They looked really cute, sitting at the edge of their personal grassy lots cheering us on. I remember one shouted out: You've earned your thanksgiving dinner! And I shouted back- "and the beer too!" Usually in races I have the lake as a sort of carrot leading me in: a place to swim and cool off. In this race, I was looking forward to a beer with my parents. Needless to say that family was in hysterics.
There were a few 1/2 ironman sweaters on the course. I have a secret awe for these people, and I look forward to earning my own. There's 2 things associated with it for me: the next big one, and the next defining race. For many it seems like the 1/2 iron is a breaking race - that's their limit, even if they planned to do the ironman. I have great respect for this distance and every toe in my body is crossed in wishes that I will have a great and encouraging race (not self-defeating).
Anyways, with that in mind... I would call out to the one's wearing their 1/2 iron's "Yeh 1/2 iron". Judging by their surprised reactions- I hope they recognized that my intentions were rooted in genuine admiration.
My feelings at the end were mixed up. I was delighted to cross the finish line, and proud.
Then I burst into tears. I wanted nothing more than a hug... but the way the finishers corridor was set up , this wasn't possible. Funny, i didn't really get a hug until i said good-bye to my parents. This is like a necessity after a big activity like this. All at once my parents and Jon appeared at the fence, and i remember that horrible feeling of just wanting to pass the bars to hug- and I couldn't, it was just too hard and it felt really strange.
WEll, i'm sure that there are plenty more memories... Memories i don't ever want to forget, but for now its time to try and sleep again. bah... and maybe even take a trip to that dreaded bathroom.
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