The Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon

Date: October 6, 2013

Location: Milwaukee, WI

I used to say that my favorite day of the year was the first day that it’s warm enough to drive with the windows down. Now I’d have to say it is the first day that it’s warm enough to run outside without needing multiple layers. That day finally came in April, after what felt like the longest winter of my life. I’m sure I’ve experienced similar, if not longer winters, but this was the first year that I continued running through the winter months. And although at times it was miserable, it really paid off. Shortly after my PR at the Shamrock Marathon, I also had a half marathon and a 5K PR! As I said in my Shamrock recap, I wanted to start focusing on becoming a faster marathoner. So, inspired by my recent success and the wonderfully warm weather, I set a pretty big goal at the beginning of the summer: breaking the 4-hour barrier in Milwaukee. 

And so began a very busy, exciting summer of training which included a lot of shorter races and some cross training to prepare for my first triathlons! Most importantly though, I added speed workouts on the track. I was certain that adding these into my training plan was the key to running a sub-4 hour marathon. BUT, I made the rookie mistake of doing too much too soon. Instead of easing into it, I was pounding my legs every week. And soon enough, my legs responded with shin splints that I just could NOT get rid of. I would rest for weeks at a time, only to have them come back. Overall, I lost almost two months of training. Of course I cross-trained when I couldn’t run, but it seemed that my dreams of a sub-4 hour marathon were shattered. Needless to say, I was crushed. I had felt so ready at the beginning of the summer, and now I was struggling just to get enough miles in before the race.

But, I wasn’t going to admit defeat yet (or maybe I was just in denial). I decided to start the race with the 4:00 pace group anyway, and just hold onto that pace for as long as I could. I knew this approach was risky. Starting out with a pace that is too fast for you to hold for the entire marathon is a good way to ensure that you bonk at the end. But maybe all the hours I'd put in when I could train was enough. And if not, I still wanted to push myself to see what I was really capable of. 

And did I mention there would be five of us running in Milwaukee! Besides Jin and me, three of my friends in my PhD program, Nicole, Frank, and Si, would be running their first ever marathon! We arrived in Milwaukee on Saturday for the race expo and to eat a big carb-filled dinner. It rained all night that night, but miraculously the skies cleared up just as we arrived at the starting point.

The race started in Grafton, WI… 26.2 miles north of Milwaukee. We would literally be running 26 miles to the city! You can see the route when looking at a zoomed out map of the state! It’s pretty crazy and intimidating to think about that. In fact, I tried not to think too hard about it.

As they counted down the start, I turned on my Ipod shuffle and… nothing. It was dead. I had charged it all night, so that meant it was literally dead. I wasn’t too surprised… it was pretty old and had definitely served its time (I’d won it in a drawing more than 4 years ago and I’d taken it on every run ever since). But of course it had to choose this moment to break. This is going to be the longest 26 miles ever.

The first half of the race, I felt great. I stuck with the 4:00 pace group the whole time along with Si who was also hoping to run a sub-4. Water stops were tricky though… pacers run right through them without slowing down. We didn’t want to run hard to catch up each time – that would be a terrible idea. So it would pretty much take us the entire distance from one water stop to the next to catch up again. It really put into perspective how hard it is to keep a certain pace… I would only slow down for a few seconds to drink and it’s crazy how far ahead the group would get in that time.

The scenery along the course was beautiful. For the majority of the time, we were running through tree-lined neighborhoods or by open fields. In Indiana the leaves haven’t changed color very much yet, but this far north, the autumn colors were vibrant. As beautiful as it was, the scenery didn’t vary much at all, and since I was with the pace group, neither did the people around me. So after a while, staring at the same scenery, the same people’s backs, with no ipod, and no course entertainment, it got to be pretty boring. It was nice having Si there to talk to every so often.

Since we were running through rural areas and the suburbs, there would be long stretches with hardly any spectators at all, then suddenly there’d be a huge group of spectators that spread for a quarter mile or so. I began to notice the same people and their signs at these spectator points, like they were moving from point to point along the course. It was pretty cool, and each time they all shouted “Go Caitlin!” as I ran by. One woman that I saw multiple times held out a poster that said “touch here for turbo boost!” I hit the poster every time and imagined getting a speed boost like in Mario Kart. One of my favorite moments in the first half was at mile 7.5 when we ran by Concordia University. This was one of the spectator points and we also caught our first glimpse of Lake Michigan as the path took us near the edge of a cliff. With the wind blowing off the lake and the massive crowd... it was invigorating.

If you’ve read my other race recaps, you know that the halfway point can be where things start to get rough for me, either mentally or physically. And of course, right on cue, around mile 13 I felt myself losing energy. I could no longer comfortably maintain the 9:10 pace of the 4:00 pace group. So over the next few miles, the pace group got further and further away until I could no longer see them. It’s okay I told myself, you knew that this would probably happen. As hard as it was to finally let go of the goal I’d spent months hoping to attain, I accepted it, and kept pushing on, hoping that I would at least be able to set a new PR.

By mile 18 I had slowed to a 10-minute mile. By mile 20, I was down to 10:30. I still had six miles to go, and every step was a struggle. It was disheartening to see the 4:05 pace group approach and pass me. Then the 4:10. I knew I had to stay in front of the 4:15 if I wanted to PR. Without music to listen to, the only thing in my head (besides a random line from a One Republic song) was my own voice telling me how hard this is, and how bad I felt. Just walk for a few seconds, you’ll feel better, the voice would try to tempt me. Then, No, no, you can’t walk, you’ll regret it. You only have to push it for a few more miles. It was a constant battle. I remember passing a spectator at some point and I must have looked really beaten down because she said, “Come on Caitlin, stay strong, just keep putting one foot in front of the other. You can do it!” So then the voice in my head kept chanting, one foot in front of the other. Stay strong, stay tough. I might have even said this out loud a few times.

Around mile 23, I saw a familiar figure in the distance, stretching his calf against the curb. I waved maniacally at Jin as I approached him. Honestly I was surprised I hadn’t passed him until now. He hadn’t trained very much for this and last time he ran with minimal training, I’d passed him at mile 13 when his legs cramped up. He started running with me and I said “just 3 more miles, we can do it!” Motivated by my own words, I picked up the pace a little, but he had to stop and stretch again. I knew if I stopped I would never get moving again, so I kept going.

Soon after that, I turned onto Lincoln memorial drive for the last 2.5 miles along the lake. I was still feeling miserable and I was paranoid that the 4:15 pacer would be passing me any second now. Sure enough, he did, taking my PR with him. This was when I reached my lowest point of the race. Here I was, absolutely killing myself, and I wouldn’t even have a PR to show for it. Then I took in the scene of the blue expanse to my left, and realized how stupid I was being. Running isn’t always about being fast and setting PRs. I’m running a marathon next to a beautiful lake right now! I’ve felt like crap for the past 6 miles but I haven’t let up even once! That is something to be proud of.

At mile 25.5, I spotted Si’s boyfriend, Nathan next to the path holding his phone up to take my picture. I was so excited to see a familiar face among the spectators, I struck a victory pose. 

A few seconds later, Jin caught back up to me. “Okay, let’s do this,” I said, and used all my remaining energy to match his pace as we turned into Veterans Park. The spectators lining the path all kept saying the same thing: “The finish line is just around that corner!” but the path kept winding on and on to the right, and I still couldn’t see it! This was definitely the longest final 0.2 miles I’d ever experienced. Finally I shouted – with probably a little too much gusto – “I see the finish line!” I felt like I was sprinting down the final stretch, but it was probably still just a slow jog. I crossed the line with Jin at 4:15:41 (chip time). Just two minutes shy of a PR. But at that point, I can honestly say I didn’t care about that at all. 

I beamed as I accepted my medal and a high-five from Frank who had already finished and was cheering for us as we made our way to the finisher’s area. Training for this race had been such a roller coaster… I was just grateful that I had been healthy enough to get to the starting line and run the race. We cheered on Si and Nicole as they crossed the line and joined us in the finisher's area. I am so proud of my friends for beasting their first marathon! Check out that happy group of finishers. And those galaxy shorts! 

I can now proudly say that I’ve completed 5 marathons, which means I’ve already reached 10% of my goal! That is definitely something worth celebrating. And thanks to the Lakefront Brewery, I did just that.

     

Next up: The Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati

Trying the Tri

  

            For years the idea of completing a triathlon tempted me. It seemed to me like an ultimate test of athleticism. Anyone can excel at one endurance sport, but three?! That’s a whole different story. 

            Running? Check. I’ve definitely got that down.

Biking? Check. I became a cyclist a few years ago when I biked across the US (before that, I didn’t even own a bike). 

            Swimming? Nope. Not even close. I cried the entire time during my one and only swim lesson as a little kid. I’m no stranger to water though. I love all forms of water sports (wake boarding, jetskiing, surfing), but swimming? I didn’t know the first thing about efficient or proper form.  

            Luckily, I had friends willing to teach me. I had a few initial lessons in 2011. But it wasn’t until January of this year, 2013, that I finally bought a real swimsuit, put on a swim cap for the first time, and actually started practicing regularly under the guidance of my friend Laura, a triathlete, and my boyfriend who swam competitively in high school. The hardest thing at first was breathing. Once I got that down, it was being able to swim consecutive laps without needing to rest. I’m a runner for crying out loud, doesn’t that mean I’m in shape? Not according to the pool.

            Over the next few months I got better, and Laura convinced me to sign up for a sprint triathlon in April. The swim was only 400 meters and it was in a pool so it was the perfect choice for my first triathlon. Still, I was terrified of the swim part. That crying little kid was still in there somewhere, and sometimes in the middle of a lap, feeling isolated and surrounded on all sides by water with nothing but my own steam keeping me afloat, I could feel her presence. When that happened, my heart would pound a million beats a minute and I would need to gasp for air. Hyperventilation isn’t exactly an ideal thing to happen when you’re in the middle of water.

Surprisingly, that first triathlon went well. I swam slower than usual though (not what you’re supposed to do in a race, I know) because I wanted to make sure I remained calm and I knew the second I felt overly tired in the water, I would start hyperventilating. It worked, and before I knew it, I was out of the pool. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and slid back into my comfort zone.

The bike and run parts were exhilarating! I had a blast the entire time. I’d never raced on the bike before and it was fun seeing how fast I could go while still pacing myself. Transitions were a rush of adrenaline because they were something completely new. I felt like I was removing and putting on gear as fast as I could but really I could have cut off quite a bit of time there. My legs felt like lead after getting off the bike, but running was like being comforted by an old friend, and the finish line came much too soon.

Inspired by my first successful experience, I signed up for another triathlon at the end of the summer. This time, it would be a 500m OPEN WATER swim! My heart pounded just at the thought of it, but the only way to get over a fear is to face it, right? I doubled my training time in the pool in preparation.

I was a mess the week before the race. I kept having nightmares about being in the middle of open water. I felt pretty silly about how scared I was of a little 500m swim. Before I knew it, it was race day and I was running into the water single-file behind other racers. The water felt comforting and warm and I took a few strokes. I couldn’t see a thing underwater! Obviously I knew this would happen, I wasn’t in a nice clear pool anymore, but it was jarring all the same. Ok, this isn’t so bad, I thought over the next few strokes, see, you were making a big deal out of nothing.

Then, like a switch had been flipped, my legs suddenly got really tired. I looked at how far I had to go – I could physically SEE the distance, unlike in a pool – and that’s when I started freaking out. What was I thinking?! I’m not a good enough swimmer for this! I was getting more tired by the second, but I couldn’t stop moving or I’d sink and it’s not like there’s a pool wall to hold onto to rest out there. The reality set in that there was nothing keeping me afloat but my own tired muscles. I felt completely stranded.

I was taking huge breaths, which meant I couldn’t put my face underwater to swim normally, and the way I was swimming was so inefficient, it was making me more tired. So, I did the only thing I could think of: backstroke. I was able to get some good deep breaths this way, then went back to freestyle. I switched between the two strokes for the rest of the swim, never fully calming down enough to keep freestyling for long. Then finally after what felt like years (and later after seeing my horrendous swim time, I can confirm that it was indeed years), my feet touched the bottom of the lake and I ran out of that water as fast as I could.

I was so upset with how the swim had gone, I BOOKED it during the bike leg. In fact, when I arrived in the transition area after the swim, all of the bikes on my bike rack were gone except for mine, and when I got back from the bike leg, they were still all gone. I spent almost the entire 10 miles the left lane – which you can only be in when you’re passing someone. With each pedal stroke I could feel myself calming down and getting more and more confident. When it was time to run I felt even better. Everyone around me was complaining about how tired they were and how hard it was to run after swimming and biking. But I was loving it. I loved every minute of the race once I was out of that water.

I ended up placing 4^th in my age group – not bad for a newbie! But the competitive side of me couldn’t help noticing that if I’d only swam two minutes faster (which I was more than capable of in a pool) I could have gotten 3^rd. My biggest mistake was not training in open water. My body was fully capable of swimming the distance, but I needed to get used to that feeling of being stranded so that my mind knew it too. 

Still, I was proud of myself for conquering a pretty big fear that day. No one but myself had forced me to get in that water, and no one but myself had gotten me through it. I can’t say I conquered the actual swim though.

But some day I will.