Date: May 4, 2014
Location:
Cincinnati, OH
I’m sitting
here, a week after the race, trying to piece together the details, and they're all
blurring together. In a big city race like this, there was so much to see… a
change of scenery at every turn. My exhausted brain couldn’t process all 26.2
miles of it. But what I do remember – all too clearly – is that this marathon
was full of ups and downs. (Literally and emotionally). As I mentioned in my
training post, I was the fittest and fastest I’d ever been going into a
marathon, and I was fully expecting to get a new personal record at the Flying
Pig. Spoiler alert: a PR was not in the cards for me. But that’s the best and
worst thing about marathons: anything can happen.It was looking like it would be a beautiful weekend when we arrived in Cincinnati on Friday night. Jin and Si were also running, and once again, Nate was our awesome support crew! (Nicole was running too, but we traveled separately and didn’t see her until the race). So the four of us headed to the expo on Saturday where there were so many flying pigs everywhere!
And Si and I were
especially excited that Olympic marathoner Ryan Hall was going to be there signing autographs! The hour-long wait in line
was totally worth it. I MET RYAN HALL!
We walked
around the city for a while that afternoon. We also looked up the origin of the
name of the marathon, because I had always wondered. Apparently Cincinnati used
to be the nation’s leading pork-packing center. At the city’s bicentennial, a
new riverfront park was built complete with winged pig statues at its entrance.
The architect wanted to honor the reason for the city’s prosperity and he gave
them wings to represent the spirits of the slaughtered pigs. Originally there
was a lot of controversy over it, but eventually the winged pig became a symbol
of the city, and gave this marathon its name!
We woke up
at 4:00 the next morning, and I wasn’t feeling my usual pre-race nerves, which
made me suspicious. Maybe I’m just getting used to this. Nathan drove us to a parking
lot downtown where a shuttle took us to the start, which was right next to
the football stadium. It was still pretty dark out and even with thousands of
people around, we still managed to find Nicole! The four of us said bye to Nate
and headed to our pigpen. I love how much this race gets into the theme… the
volunteers were called grunts, one of the aid stations where they gave us wet
towels was called the hogwash. And then of course there’s the Finish Swine,
which I could not wait to cross! 
In an
effort to organize my memories, I’ll recap the race in 3 separate sections.
Section 1:
Miles 1-5.
Overcoming fear.
As soon as
we crossed the start line, the four of us split up. All I remember is chaos
since the marathoners and half marathoners started all together and there were so many people. Suddenly I felt very
alone, and it finally hit me: I’m about
to run 26.2 miles. There is pain in my immediate future. And that’s when
the nerves finally hit, and the weight of all the pressure I’d put on myself to
PR in this marathon started to overwhelm me. I looked down at my Garmin and
noticed I’d been following the pace of the crowd around me and it was much too
slow. The hills were coming; I needed to start out faster. I picked up the pace
a little and took a deep breath. Calm
down. It helped when I looked to my left and there was a beautiful view of
the city skyline, lit up slightly against the overcast sky.
Within a
few minutes we were crossing into Kentucky. It was pretty awesome running on
the bridge crossing over the Ohio River. I flew down the steep downhill on the
other side of the bridge and found Jin. It was comforting to run with him for a
while. Jin and I would run pieces of the first 16 miles together, with me
keeping a relatively even pace, and him yo-yoing ahead – running faster than me
on the flats and downhills and going slowly up the hills to conserve energy
until I caught back up. (His lack of training had him worried about the end).
We were in Kentucky for about 2 miles, then crossed back over the River. My
first 4 miles were all under 9 minutes, and I was constantly worried about
whether my pace was too fast, or not fast enough. I was just SO worried about
the big hill coming up. Not to mention all the hills after it. What if I
totally bomb this marathon because I’m going too fast right now? Or what if the
hills slow me down too much and I realize I should have put more time in the
bank at the start? I started to feel short of breath. Was it because I was
running too fast? Was it because I was just getting over a cold? Or was it
because I was having a panic attack? I hadn’t realized how much pressure I’d
put on myself until then.
Around mile
5, we were back in the heart of downtown and suddenly there were tons of
spectators lining the streets. The energy radiating from them was contagious
and I started to feel better. I scanned the crowds for Nathan and finally
spotted him. For the first time in the race, a huge smile spread across my
face. I raised my arms and yelled to him. “Yeah Caity! Lookin good!” he shouted
and some people around him joined in yelling, “go Caity!” (Nate captured this moment with his GoPro! There are other clips afterward of Si and Jin - some from the end of the race)
After that, I felt a
million times better, and I saw a sign someone was holding that said “Trust
Your Training.” Duh. That was exactly what I needed to be reminded of at that
moment. And from then on the fear was gone. I’d prepared for this, and I knew
what I was doing. Just calm down, and
run!
Section 2:
Miles 6 – 15.
Overcoming the hills.
The big
uphill started around mile 6. Check out that elevation chart from my Garmin!
Don’t let the one big hill fool you though… the entire race was full of hills,
but this was the beast. The path took us north so that the city was behind us.
I
got into a rhythm and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other,
using the uphill running technique I’d been practicing: keeping my torso
upright and running with high knees so that my glutes and hamstrings shared the
effort with my quads. Compared to how I’d built up that hill in my head, it
really wasn’t bad at all. I just kept going, expecting it to get hard, but it
never really did. Plus, it wasn’t really a constant uphill, there were flat
parts along the way. I remember entering Eden park, and that’s when I crossed
over the first tracking mats. I knew that my friends and family all across the
country had just gotten a text alert and I pictured them all cheering for me which
made me smile and run even faster.
When we
finally got to the top of the hill, someone nearby cheered out loud and
everyone around him joined in. We’d made it! And our reward: this beautiful
view of the Ohio River!
There was
also a photographer right there to capture the moment. Look how happy everyone
is J This was definitely my favorite part of the race.
I crossed
the timing mats signaling the halfway point at 2:01:23. A PR, or even – dare I
say it – a 4:00 marathon seemed within reach. I’d already conquered the big
hill, and I was feeling great! What could possibly stop me?
I got my
answer to that around mile 15 when my knees started to ache. All that fast
downhill running seemed to be taking its toll. At this point it felt like
runner’s knee (a dull ache behind the knee cap) and usually if I stretched out
my legs for a bit, it would go away. So I tried that. No luck. Over the next
mile the pain just got worse and worse, especially in my right knee. All I could think was, it's over.
Section 3:
Miles 16 – 26.2.
Overcoming pain.
At this
point Jin was just up ahead of me and noticed I was kind of limping. He slowed
down until I caught up. I practically broke down right there, letting my anger
and frustration come out in a string of choice words. I just couldn’t believe
this was happening, after so many months of hard work. 10 miles to go in this
much pain? It seemed impossible. I am so lucky Jin was there at that moment. He
gave me a pep talk that got me through the rest of the race. The words that
stuck with me most: “You know this is what marathons are like; the unexpected
happens. It’s part of the deal, and you just have to do the best you can with whatever it throws at you.” Okay, that was probably paraphrasing, but I knew he was right. No matter how well you train, you can never truly know how a marathon will turn out. There are too many elements at play over such a long distance. But in truth, that's part of the allure (who wants boring and predictable?). So, I most
likely wasn’t going to PR, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to give up. My time
– by itself – might not be what I’d hoped. But considering all the elements, I
was going to cross that finish line in a time that I could be proud of.
After the
pep talk, I promptly left Jin in my dust (sorry baby!) Side note: this picture
says it all about how the rest of his race went. So sad and so cute! Every time
I see it, I want to give him a hug.
Over the
next 6 miles I don’t really remember what was going on around me. But I
discovered that no matter how fast or slow I ran, the pain in my knees was the
same. So I was able to keep up my running pace, but it all came down to how long I could
tolerate the pain before needing to walk. I took quite a few walk breaks, but when
I was running, my Garmin told me I was still going about 9 minute/mi pace! I’d
never kept a pace like that 22 miles in. Miles 18-20 were rough. We were on
what looked like a highway overpass, completely exposed in the hot sun. And
keep in mind it was constant rolling hills. Each uphill was tough, but the
downhills were excruciating. I kept stopping at all the medical tents to ask
for biofreeze and it would take what felt like hours for someone to finally figure
out they didn’t have any. Around mile 22 I finally found some, which helped a
little.
I counted
down the miles like my life depended on it. I couldn’t take this pain for much
longer. Finally I was back downtown with about 1 mile to go. I spotted Nate in
the crowd – I don’t know how I found him again… there were so many people! Here’s
the picture he took as I ran by… I didn’t have the energy to muster a victory
pose this time around. Finally, I could see it: THE FINISH SWINE. Spectators
were practically hanging over the guardrails yelling “you’re almost there! Keep
going!” I nearly started crying right there, just knowing I was about to cross
the line.
200 yards… 100… 50… it felt
like I was running in place. Then – finally – I was done! The pain was over and immediately forgotten. I was so happy to be done! And most of all, I was proud that I hadn't given up. I ended
up finishing 4:18, just four minutes slower than my personal best. I couldn’t
believe it… thinking about all the time I’d spent walking in the last 10 miles,
and the times I’d stopped at the medical tents, and not to mention the hills and the terrible knee pain… and I still managed to finish only four minutes off my PR. It
definitely proved I was fitter than I’d ever been. And if it hadn’t been for
those downhills killing my knees, I would have – without a doubt – run a
personal best.
But, there are no would haves in marathons. If there’s one
thing I learned from this race, a marathon time by itself says nothing. It’s
the blood, sweat, and tears you put into that time that means everything.
Whew thanks
for hanging in there through my longest post yet! And stay tuned; I’ll be
running the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon in November, and possibly the
Eugene Marathon in July! Two nice and flat courses J
