I'm Lauren. and as of a week ago I'm a marathoner.
Chicago was an absolutely freaking fantastic first marathon. It was so well spectated, so well organized, and it was so freaking great to be running in Chicago again.
As one can guess, July's running-destruction injury was indeed a running destruction injury. I didn't run for 6+ weeks. And even when I started running again, it was slow, in an old pair of highly cushioned shoes, and on the soft surfaces of Nichol's Arboretum. Each run included KT-tape and a compression sleeve and prayers to not further injure the possible stress fracture in my calf.
And I didn't.
By the time it was t-minus one week to chicago, it hadn't really sunk in yet. I started consuming all the carbs, and around wednesday it hit me that holy shit I was about to run a marathon.
The most I had ran post-injury was a run/walk 11 miler, and before the injury, I had only gotten up to a 12-miler. I was about to PD every mile after 13.1 during the marathon.
So much crazy.
Race morning I woke up early, drank coffee, drank a glass of nuun, ate an ALT larabar, half an ezekiel english muffin, and half a banana (will need to come back and evaluate this, because - SPOILER ALERT! - my bitch stomach rebelled and I walked when my legs had more life in them).
Allie and I waited in the porta-potty line, got into our start corral and were about to run 26.2 miles in the streets of chicago.
the race was seriously amazing. so much great crowd support, a really awesome route. I think I would definitely do it again.
I was originally planning on walk/running it. it's how i'd done all of my post-injury running. but I just felt good the whole way through, so much so that I ran all the way to about 12 miles without stopping.
And from there I did a few walk breaks here and there, but was still RUNNING. slow miles, the whole way, dont get me wrong. I was rocking the 9:30+ min miles.
And then things slowed down.
Around Mile 18 shit got real and my stomach was in all out rebellion. I'm not sure if it was the lemon lime gu I had for the first time, a failure in proper hydrating/fueling, or what. In all fairness, I had never really tried to take more than one gu during a run. Maybe my stomach just can't handle that. But by mile 20, I was steadily walking, without much running AT ALL. any time I started running, I felt like I was going to vomit. and Vomiting could mean not finishing thanks to, you know, vomiting up anything providing you with energy to keep moving. So I walked. and walked. and walked. For 6+ miles.
|humbling splits, for shits and giggles|
And then I got to the final mile. And I started to run again. Final mile had some walks in it as well, but it was mostly running, and I ran through that finish line and became a marathoner. and it was the best feeling in the world.
(also finding this photo reminded me of the damn banana from one of the aid stations that i seriously carried with me for the last six miles in case at some point I thought I was going to eat it. delusional. I swear)
So yes, I am a marathoner. and I love it.
And now, I can't wait to run another marathon, properly trained, uninjured, properly fueled. Probably the wisconsin marathon. and I can't wait.