Date: May 21, 2017
Location: Nashua, NH
It’s a sunny Sunday in May, and I’m standing with a starting line in front of me, surrounded
by 200 runners. I realize that until now it hadn’t really hit me. Was I really
about to run a marathon? It felt like any other day. Usually marathon weekends
are a grand event… traveling somewhere, joining up with a group of friends,
going to a big expo, sleeping in a foreign bed… it all mentally prepares me for
the race itself. But this morning I woke up in my own bed and just got in the
car and drove about an hour. And voila, here I stood. Am I really about to do
this? I just feel like a regular person on a regular day, standing among a
crowd.
But it wasn’t just a
regular day. It was a day that I’d been preparing for for months. Years even.
Slowly building up my blood vessel volume, and the size of my mitochondria
army, and the tensile strength of my tendons. Those changes don’t happen over
night, they take years and years of consistent work. Like building a network of
smooth and efficient roads on the map of my body. And I was hoping that today
it would all be worthwhile and I would run my fastest marathon yet.
So there I stood on Main Street
of downtown Nashua, NH. A town not so different from most small New England
towns. A stretch of charming businesses, a grand-looking town hall, a small
park with a monument just off the main street. I put in my headphones to get in
the zone. Okay, focus. You are really
about to do this. Why did I feel so calm? Maybe it’s because the course
consisted of several small loops, so all I actually needed to focus on right
now was the first 5.5 mile loop. Very manageable. Jin stood off to the side of
the starting area. The miles between now and when I would see him again on the
sidelines didn’t feel so daunting.
Loop 1
3-2-1. We were off. The
course started out with a nice, long uphill out of the town center along Main
Street. A towering monument waited for us at the end of the road, marking the
top of the hill. I felt slightly breathless once I got to the top but recovered
quickly, fueled by adrenaline. Despite the fact that the first loop consisted
of rolling hills, I have nothing but calm, peaceful memories when I look back
on it. It was a beautiful day, and I was surrounded by lovely tree-lined
neighborhoods. I was also sticking to my pace perfectly. Maybe I was just
feeling confident because my training had gone so well. Once again I followed
the FIRST training plan, this time for a 3:40 marathon. But I planned on
starting out more conservatively, at the pace to finish in 3:45. Because
starting out too fast has been my downfall too many times, and I really wanted
to finish this marathon strong.
Once I’d settled into a
rhythm, I found some other runners who were also running my pace so I focused
on sticking with them. After running mostly through neighborhoods, the road
widened and gave us a nice downhill stretch next to a large park. Before I knew
it, I’d hit mile 5 and my pace quickened slightly at the thought of reaching
the downtown area, and finishing that first loop. There were hardly any crowds
along the course, because they were all concentrated along the main stretch
where I’d be transitioning to the next loop. I could hear the cheering in the
distance as I approached. Then suddenly, there was Jin! I waved and grabbed
some water, and then I was off on loop 2.
Loop 2
5.3 miles.
Now this was the distance that commandeered every corner of my brain. Just make it through the next 5.3 miles.
Loop 2 headed south out of town; the opposite direction from loop 1. But the
scenery wasn’t much different... mostly residential once again. Combine that
with the fact that with such a small field of runners, there was hardly anyone
else around me – it still felt like a run on any regular day. The experience
stood in stark contrast to my last marathon in NYC – so packed with runners and
spectators in the busy city streets. I hoped that the outcome of this race would
be drastically different too.
At least running in
tree-lined neighborhoods meant opportunities for shade. The temperature was in
the low 50s by now, but the sun was in full force, adding a few degrees on top
of that. I felt comfortable for the most part as long as I hugged the edge of
the course to stay in the shade. But for the last mile of this loop, we turned
left onto Main for a long, sunny stretch and my body temperature started to
rise. That mile seemed to last forever, but finally I made it to the transition
area where Jin was waiting for me again. Seeing him gave me the boost I needed
to recover from that last, draining mile and I set off on loop 3 with renewed
vigor.
Loop 3
Loop 3 was the same as loop
1 – the only repeating loop. And the hilliest. The first time through, the
rolling hills barely slowed me down. But this time, they weren’t quite as
comfortable. Each uphill felt twice as long and twice as steep. For the most
part I was able to keep up my pace, but I’d be lying if I said that these
feelings of fatigue didn’t have me worried. I was just about halfway done – too
early to be feeling it.
I passed one familiar
landmark after another – the cannons stationed in the park, the beautiful
towering temple. Time is a fickle friend. Hadn’t the time between passing those
two landmarks on loop 1 gone by so much faster? The miles dragged on, and
although my pace hadn’t changed much at all, the ever-lurking doubt was
starting to trickle in. At last I reached Main Street again and that meant
starting on the second-to-last loop… where the race really began.
Loop 4
10 more miles. I mean, 5.3. Just focus on the next 5.3.
Loop 4 was drastically different from the others. I felt exposed in the
ever-warming sun as we passed the Millyard, but at the next corner we turned
onto a beautiful, snaking trail through the woods. As the cooler air flowed
around me and the soft dirt path compressed underfoot, I felt wonderfully
refreshed. Any feelings of gloom and doubt that had started to creep in over
the last loop lifted. This was the change of scenery I needed. I enjoyed every
step of that trail, drinking in sights of the green trees and muddy river and
silently apologizing to the sun for thinking it could do anything worse than
reveal the beautiful landscape around me.
But as soon as I stepped
off the trail, back onto hot black pavement, the magic was broken. My legs and
lungs finally realized they had just done 20 miles of work. My skin and mouth
felt hot and dry and I cursed the sun for fooling me into a false sense of
amity. I was consumed with thoughts of the water stop coming up. As I reached
the table, I gave in to the desire to walk – for just a few seconds, I swear!
After what was likely more
than just a few seconds, I took off again and that’s when I heard someone
calling my name. My sister Kristin, brother-in-law Ryan, and niece Abbey were just
up ahead cheering! Their timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
My sufferfest immediately ended and I don’t know if I felt more like laughing or crying, I was so happy to see them. And they even had SIGNS for me! Pretty much the best signs I’d ever seen. My lifted spirits carried me through to the end of that loop, and I was all smiles when I saw Jin again on Main Street and set off on the final loop.
Loop 5
Thank you, thank you, to
the brilliant geniuses that designed this course for making the last loop the
shortest. Screw landing on Mars or curing cancer, nothing will ever top this
brilliance! (Disclaimer: post-race, rational-thinking Caitlin is 1000% in
support of both Mars landings and cancer cures). There’s not a whole lot I
remember about this loop except that it was just over 4 miles and I desperately
wanted it to be over.
Within only a few steps of
starting that loop, the smiles were gone. I was alone once again, and
vulnerable to the poisonous, sneaky, doubts. I managed to hold on to my pace
for mile 23, but everything started unraveling over the next mile, and I
finished mile 24 almost a full minute slower. The crushing despair that comes
with seeing that time on your watch after coming so far and holding your goal
pace for so long is… well, crushing. And extremely hard to bounce back from.
Which is why my pace for mile 25 wasn’t much better. I was beyond crushed.
Flattened.
Okay, just one more mile to go. By now, I was on that same sunny, unending
stretch up Main Street that I’d run at the end of loop 2. I’m not exaggerating at
all when I say that this time it felt 10 times longer. But I knew I needed to
turn things around, and I only had one mile left to do it. It was pep talk
time.
One bonus of running a
small race is you can talk to yourself and there’s a good chance there won’t be
anyone within earshot to hear your crazy ranting. But the fact that my ears heard the words coming out of my
mouth made them that much more powerful. Though it was beyond excruciating, I
finished mile 26 exactly on pace.
I could’ve started celebrating right then. Not
only was I was about to finish this marathon, I was about to finish with a huge
PR. But just because the finish line was in sight, didn’t mean it was over. I
kept my eyes glued to the finish with stone-faced resolve. It was only in those
final steps – finishing arch overhead, four adoring fans cheering for me – that
I let myself believe it. It was over, and I had crushed it.
As soon as I crossed the
finish line, Jin, Kristin, Ryan, and Abbey came rushing over to celebrate. I
was mostly in shock and could barely get the words out to tell them that I’d
bested myself by nearly five minutes and finished in 3:47:45.
Finishing on this side of
3:50 felt like I’d kicked down a huge wall that had been towering over me for
years. Standing there on that sunny Sunday in May with a finish line behind me,
surrounded by my loved ones, I think it finally sunk in. This wasn’t just a
regular day.
