The Run
May 4th, 2010 § 42 Comments
So, yeah, this weekend. That one that was supposed to change my life? It happened. One part of me wants to leave it at that.
The other part of me – the part that knows no closure will come without writing – knows I need to get it out. To tell the story. Not to elicit any particular response, either. Rather to share with you, my amazing, supportive community of friends, blends and readers that sometimes what we set out to do doesn’t happen. And that it can suck really bad. And that it’s OK not to pick up the pieces and slap a smile on and say, “Oh well! Another day, another race!” But that it’s also not OK to wallow in self-doubt and pity forever.
Let’s back up, shall we?
Sunday marked the annual running of the Pittsburgh Marathon. I signed up several months ago to run the half – my first race of its kind. I went through all the motions the day and night before: carb-loading, plenty of hydration, charged every electronic device I’d later attach to my body and laid out my clothes.
Being the amazing, supportive sweet friends that they are, Jordan and Ashley traveled all the way from Baltimore to cheer on myself and Abby. Saturday night, along with the presence of Jessica, we all gathered around the island in my kitchen talking about blogging and food and racing and running. We brought up how running is such a mental thing. How you can train and run great when it’s not against any clock but your own, but when it comes down to race day, a million things can get thrown in the mix and what you expect, what you want and what actually happens are three completely different things.
I had some stomach issues that night – nothing serious – and I just shook it off as nerves. I also had great difficulty sleeping. Carrie and I were both nervous as hell. I just kept telling myself that 1.) I wasn’t going to die and 2.) I wasn’t competing for first place. “Stop worrying so much,” I told myself.
The morning of, again I went through all the motions: stabilizing breakfast, more hydrating, bathroom stop at the site. Before I knew it, we were lining up at the start line.
Despite my signature thumbs up, my nerves were cranked up full force here. A few minutes later the gun went off and about 8 minutes later we crossed the start line. The first two miles were great – my body felt loose, there was crowd support to boot and I was literally right in the middle of over 15,000 people.
Then, the skies opened up and it began to rain.
For the next 10 miles, I hit every emotion and road block I was capable of. I was of course, still excited, but I just didn’t feel the run. I didn’t feel like I wanted to run and there was no real, apparent reason why. Sure, I was soaked (it rained pretty much the entire time) and I was tired but I know, I just know my body was capable of so much more. I had done the long training runs leading up to Sunday. I hadn’t run them straight through without walk breaks, but I had done them and not hit so many mental blocks. So we ended up doing a lot of walking. A lot. I’m talking more walking than running for many of those miles. I’m ashamed to admit that, but I feel that I have to put it out there because I know I’m not the only one who experienced that discouragement Sunday nor in any race for that matter. The entire time, I kept trying to make bargains with myself.
“Run 10 minutes then take a break and walk. You can do anything for 10 minutes. It’s just a series of little 10-minute races.”
It’s so easy to say that. It was easy to say it before and it’s easy to say it now. On Sunday, it was so easy not to do it. It was so easy to let my mind win and ignore that my body was overall feeling just fine. I’d done harder runs before, I’d pushed myself in worse conditions. WHY couldn’t I do it Sunday? More importantly, why couldn’t I push myself when it all came down to what I’d been working so hard toward? Why was I slacking more in the race than I ever had before?
Between miles eight and nine, we passed through a fluid station and I grabbed a cup and took a few sips of water. Immediately after, my heart felt like it jumped into my throat and beat faster than it ever has before. What I felt can only be described as a spasm. Whatever it was, it scared the living daylights out of me, so much so that I just stopped in the middle of the course, bent over holding my legs and literally thought, “This is it. I am going to pass out and have a heart attack in the middle of a race I am barely running.”
I shuffled over to the sidelines and tried to compose myself. Poor Carrie was just as terrified, having no clue what had just happened. We started walking again soon and I willed my heart rate to go down. It did, but from that point on the running got really scarce.
As we made our way over the final bridge, we decided we’d better get running. Time was ticking and the crowds – both on the course and on the sidelines – were thinning out. As we approached the last mile, Jordan and Ashley spotted us.
This was at the point where Jordan ran along beside me – flip-flops and all – getting in the perfect Mom-like pose, taking pictures, asking me if I needed anything. My response?
“I need for this race to be OVER!”
Granted, I was laughing and smiling, but that was only because I knew how close I was to finishing.
If only I knew.
Not even minutes after this was taken, we reached an intersection where barricades were scattered in a haphazard way and everyone seemed to be confused. “They closed the course! It’s re-routed – go that way!” someone shouted, pointing in the opposite direction we were supposed to run.
My immediate thoughts went something like this, “keheksdhfieogjwepiwaemdfjbg *#$&!” which translates to a lot of swearing and, “Oh my God, they closed the course because we are the last runners. As if I couldn’t feel any more discouraged, now it’s more than apparent how much I suck.”
As we turned more corners and tried to make sense of the makeshift course, we entered the Convention Center area where the finish line was located. We were directed to run right through the marketplace where over a dozen food booths were set up and spectators and finished runners were milling about. And when I say milling, what I really mean is they just STOOD THERE. And just as quickly as we bobbed and weaved through the crowd, we were abruptly stopped right in the middle of the course. All I could make out in front of me were several men in military fatigue telling us we couldn’t go any further.
Imagine enduring the hardest thing you’ve ever been through. Imagine knowing it’s almost done. You’re so close to relief. Then imagine being told you’re not going to finish it. Then pull in a rain cloud, some b.o. and droopy shorts. Welcome to my Sunday morning. As more runners joined the pack, the tears and frustrations started flowing from many surrounding me. We heard whisperings of a bomb threat and suddenly I felt 1.) scared and 2.) relieved things weren’t stopped and rerouted on account of my speed (or lack there of).
Utter chaos ensued as we were turned around and told to backtrack to the finish line. At this point, I couldn’t have even told you where my thumbs were. I was so spent – emotionally, physically, mentally. I couldn’t help but silently scold myself for not having run more in the race. If I had, I wouldn’t be in “last 0.1 mile hell.” More bobbing and weaving ensued and eventually we crossed the finish line backwards hand in hand. We had added 15-20 minutes being stopped and about 1/2 a mile on to the race. I added more guilt to my conscious and disappointment to my mind.
The saving grace at the finish line was the sight of my best friend whom I haven’t seen in four months. Carrie and I grabbed some fuel, were awarded our medals (totally humbling by the way) and had our photos taken, and after what seemed like a million years trying to get around the fence that separated the spectators from the runners, I gave her the biggest, tightest hug I had left in me and I just let it all out. I cried pretty hard for a minute and when she asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around the words that would have formed an answer. I just shrugged and sobbed harder until she said something to make me laugh. Thank goodness for that laugh. I needed it. We were received with many congrats and posed for more photos.
Two days later, here I sit on my deck. Beer beside me, sifting through the photos. Perhaps that’s all you’ve done up to this point in the post, too. If there is anything you could and should read, it is this: I know things could have been worse. I know I could have not finished at all, or even not had the ability to run in the first place. But I also know I could have done much more. While I am thankful for my body and what God has allowed me to do in this life, I am also thankful for not having the ignorance to tell myself that the feats I have to accomplish in my athletic endeavors ended Sunday. I’m not sold on racing in another half marathon yet, but I am not going to completely file that under the “things I will never do again” tab in life’s filing cabinet.
I had dreamed of what it was going to feel like crossing that finish line for months. When I crossed it, all of that couldn’t have been further from my imagination. When people told me, “Great job! Not everyone could do that!” I wanted to tell them, “Anyone can walk/run 13.1 miles, don’t give me that.” I wanted to be angry. I wanted someone to tell me how poorly I’d done, how disappointed they were in me, how I hadn’t lived up to what I had built myself up to be. How I talked a big talk and had nothing even close to show for it. I felt like my poor performance was the elephant in the room everyone was trying to ignore.
Two days later, here I sit on my deck. Beer beside me, sifting through the photos. It’s still hard to look at them and be completely proud of myself. I’m happy and accomplished, but I’m not there yet, just like I wasn’t there during the race.
I know it won’t be long until I’m back – until I’m lacing up my shoes, turning on my Garmin and situating my play list. I’ll run across the same streets and bridges I treaded on Sunday. Perhaps I’ll reminisce. Perhaps I won’t. Either way, there’s something to be said for what the experience has taught me because here’s what: sometimes what you expect, what you want and what actually happens are three completely different things. But every time you try, you learn something about each one.
And me? I’ll never stop trying.
And I’ll never stop learning.
And what whole running thing? Well, it’s like I said before – it’s as much a part of me as anything else now.
Wow. Just, wow.
I am SO SO proud of you for finishing. Even if you think anyone can run/walk 13.1 miles. That may be true physically, but there are a lot of people who would have quit altogether when they came up on those mental roadblocks, the tough weather conditions, and the re-route. Way to go!
i have read a lot of race recap in my day, and very few (none?) have ever brought me to tears. you had so much going AGAINST you in the race…. nerves, the weather, a freaking pipe bomb?! but you finished. finishing is so important, so powerful. please never let that be taken from you!!!! you are epic.
we have ALL had crappy runs, shitty races, days where we feel like utter failures and don’t feel like we’re worth anything. But that’s just life! Those bad days don’t mean anything about who you are or what you can do. They are just there so we can appreciate when we DO have good days, instead of taking them for granted. You ARE amazing, and you will run gazillions more races that will be amazing, and you know that! it doesn’t sound like anything could be worse than this, and you still conquered it! Your body is strong and healthy and not injured. And let me tell you, I could NOT run/walk 13.1 miles without something falling apart
I ran xc and track in college and my PDR is 7 miles. yup.
Wow, I’m so amazed at your recap.
There was so much going on that day; the weather, bomb threats, internal struggles, so much that, yah, you could have said “that’s it, i quit” and no one would have said a word.
BUT YOU DIDN’T. You finished and that took a lot of perseverance, determination, grit and you earned that medal.
Congrats!
(and big hugs!!! and darn it all, you made me cry!)
Caitlin this was an amazing race report. You should still be proud of your accomplishment. A half marathon is a big deal and you did it. Sure, maybe not quite as well as you had hoped to, but you did do it. You woke up earlier than the average person and ran/walked 13.1 miles on a Sunday morning. Most of the world was still asleep, that’s what makes it’s a cool accomplishment, sure maybe anyone can do it, but not everyone is willing to put in the time and effort like you did. You kicked butt and should be proud!
girl. you are incredible. I need to gchat with you asap. I am so proud of you for finishing this and I think you are amazing! I know that you had some issues and you were disappointed, heart broken, and experienced a broken spirit, but you know that YOU FINISHED THIS RACE. you ran it for you and rocked it. no one can take it away from you, you’re a half marathon finisher.
You’re a total rock star!!
I was supposed to run the last leg in the relay, but couldn’t for a bunch of reasons. I have to say, had I been there and got to the finish with the microwaved ravioli fiasco, I probably would have broken down and cried.
But you persevered and you did what you had to do, despite all the obstacles against you. THAT makes you awesome.
You did it!!! Congratulations! Congrats for starting, for continuing and for finishing, especially through the epic last part of the race. No one can take any of that away from you.
I’m proud of you for persevering through everything that came your way, you go girl!!
Wow! What a recap! I can’t even imagine running 13 miles only to find out the course has been re-routed for a bomb! You should be very proud of yourself. You’re amazing!
And I love your writing.
you are amazing and such an inspiration. I know you’re frustrated and wish a million different things could have happened but I hope soon you will realize just how much you really did accomplish. I look up to you and know that you can do anything you put your mind to. It might not end up being the perfect picture we all wish for but the end result is still the same. I hope you realize how proud you should be of yourself. I’m so happy for everything you accomplished and how far you have come. you are amazing and never forget it.
I’ve been wondering when this post was coming! You should be PROUD and everything else that comes along with it. You know I couldn’t run/walk 13 minutes and you did 13 MILES!!
[...] and watch for Bess’s 2nd post on here TOMORROW! Still need to procrastinate? Check out the most moving race recap I’ve ever read from my friend [...]
Oh man I was waiting and waiting for this post! Yeah so it wasn’t your best run ever but you didn’t give up. Stupid Pittsburgh weather. There’s always next year though and the race will be bigger and you’ll be an even stronger runner then so you’ll be able to come back and kick some fake pipe bomb microwave booty.
I read and enjoyed every single word in this post!
Like you said, you didn’t write this to elicit a certain response. But you know what our response is around here in blend-land. I read your blog for so many reasons, but above all for your no bullshit approach to life. You’re one of those people who is a joy to be around and a yours is a blog that’s a joy to read.
Obviously, this post didn’t bring me joy. My heart goes out to you for all the emotions you’re experiencing. However, I think deep down you know that what you accomplished is real, and that the circumstances were definitely unusual. I would have flipped my shit if there had been rain at my race, let alone a BOMB threat.
Keep your head up and enjoy that beer.
I frickin’ love you!
Okay, this is going to sound SO creepy but I don’t care. I swear that I was right with you guys during the race. I remember seeing someone who resembled you and now that I see what you guys were wearing, etc, it HAD to have been you. I was on the slower end too (check out my recap) and I swear we were with each other the whole time! It was an emotional race, indeed but we finished. Congrats, my friend.
I just love your writing. I’m sorry the race wasn’t what you hoped but you are amazing! You did it, you have accomplished something most people don’t. You’re an inspiration to me.
cait..sign up for the Annapolis 10 miler..I’ll do it with you..ranked one of the hardest races in the US..You will do it with an entire different outcome and outlook..promise…sign up is June 1st..fills fast so register that day..what do you say??? http://www.annapolisstriders.org
You should be VERY proud of yourself…don’t be so hard on yourself…Congrats..let me know bout the A10…
1. this is the 2nd time i’ve started this comment. thanks, chrome.
2. lately i’ve been doing this thing. I open your post in two tabs. One tab i read. the other tab i scroll ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL the way to the bottom of the post, and start my comment.
i do this so that i don’t forget anything i want to say.
this is why chrome pisses me off the most tonight. I was already well into this comment and had done such a good job of not forgetting things and now….
well…now…
3. i’m still not sure why i told you about my two-tab plan, other than the fact that i think it’s brilliant. especially for long posts like this. and since i write REALLY long posts all the time (dont even pretend i wasnt your inspiration for the length, here.) i think you should consider partaking in this plan while reading THS.
4. if i was not your inspiration, then just pretend i was, okay?
5. i love that photo of you and abby.
6. but not as much as i love that photo of you about to give a five. i LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE it. i think it should be in some sports photo journalist article somewhere. or on my fridge. just saying.
7. as i read this, i am starting to rethink 10-10-10.
8. still not too sure about my running a half marathon, now that im reading this. hmmmmmmmm.
9. OH! the crush is texting me. although, he’s no longer really the crush. but still, what other name would i call him in this comment so that you would know who he is? the crush it is!
10. no. he is not asking me out on a date. but thank you for asking.
11. oh- you thought this comment was going to be about you and your blog and your race, eh? ok. ok. i’ll get to it, then.
12. “It’s so easy to say that.” Agree. It’s so easy to say that. And all my other go-to phrases. on saturday i had a horrible training run. i wanted to KILL you and alex for all that “tell your mind to shut it and tell your feet to move” business. i tried it. you know what my feet said?
13. F$&#@*)(@#$)&( that’s what.
14. i am so sorry that you had to go through all that bomb lameness. clearly it was not “da bomb.” oh, dear. seriously though. you will NEVER forget this race. ever.
15. i am so glad i didn’t go to fitbloggin so that you go to meet Jordan. I am so glad that Jordan is the kind of person who runs along side you to get photos and ask you if you need something. one day i will meet jordan. she is awesome.
16. Im glad you are smiling in your “after race” photos. good blogger.
17. the end of your post is so beautiful that if i were to try and comment on it, i couldnt do it justice and i would take away from the gorgeousness.
18. i don’t care WHAT you say or think or feel. I AM PROUD OF YOU. and still a bit terrified of that silly 13.1 in my future.
19. go to bed, already. xoxoxoxo
20. darn. now i am so close to 25 that i feel it only fitting to keep going.
21. you know, bc this is your 25th year.
22. ummmm.. arggggggggggg me matey.
23. what are your thoughts on doing a much smaller race? say, a 5K.
24. i’m trying to think of a better word to start using/blogging about than RACE because seriously – i’m not really racing anyone – except occasionally myself. Event just seems to generic…any ideas?
25. SWEET DREAMS, SWEET GIRL.
You are absolutely amazing. I’ve never run a race in a complete downpour before (in the snow, yes). That is pretty badass in my book.
Second, you pushed past your mental boundaries for this race. Every single time you run one, you will push a little more past. Your boundaries will keep moving forward and so will your desire to push past them. I’m so proud of you. 5k’s are a lot different than half marathons aren’t they? haha
Pretty soon you will be running marathons and think nothing of it. I’m not quite at that point yet. I’ve got some mental growing to go through myself!
Cait, I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you! Don’t be dicouraged..things could have been alot worse! You finished the race… That is something to be proud of!
What a race! With all that stood in your way, you did it anyway. Weather, nerves, and a rough race are one thing- add in a closed course, pipe bomb, and the finish line not where it should have been waiting for you? You are incredible!!
Just for running in the rain you are awesome. I would have prolly stayed in bed. Run whenever you want, you are your own trainer!
Congrats, you did an amazing job! It was a hard race to run to begin with, then add in rain and a bomb scare, it would have been easy to quit. But, you didn’t and you finished! Wear that medal with pride. : )
Caitlin, the important thing is THAT YOU FINISHED. You finished even though it was raining. Even though there was a bomb scare. You finished.
I don’t care what your time was. No one does. I’ve been there girl. I have been there. I promise that eventually you will realize that all that matters is that YOU FINISHED.
This post was totally worth the wait my friend. I know you didn’t run the race in the name of impacting other people, but being there, seeing you and cheering you on, really had a profound effect on me. It seems like the magnitude of it all is still sinking in, and that’s good (don’t fight the feeling
) You did something amazing for yourself, and as a result, for all of us 
Love and lotsa hugs.
That was a great recap. And despite the shitty conditions on race day, a great experience. #1 Who has a bomb scare during a race?!?! That’s going to be a crazy story to tell grandkids! #2 You finished! You pushed yourself, you didn’t let yourself quit. In my mind, you totally rocked. You never ever gave up. You kept going for 13.1+ miles!
Give it some time and sign up for another 1/2. After all of the negatives of Sunday’s race, you’re guaranteed to have a better experience. Not much could be worse than that.
All that matters is that you persevered and FINISHED! Definitely something to be proud of. You’re part of a VERY SMALL percentage of people on this planet that can say they’ve completed a half marathon – don’t forget that!
I do know how you feel though – it’s hard to get so pumped up before a race, only to feel like you let yourself down during the race itself. That happened to me with the Disney Marathon this year. I trained and trained and trained, and ROCKED my 20 mile training run. Then came race day – it was 17 degrees (yes, in Orlando FL) and I never quite warmed up because of the cold. That mentally killed me. I ended up walking miles 17-26.2. And I was miserable the.whole.time.
I’m still proud that I finished. But it’s always in the back of my mind that it’s not “how” I wanted to finish.
Just keep telling yourself – I DID IT! that’s all that matters. And someday if you WANT to try again, go for it!
Congrats hun, you are an inspiration!
Girl–-you should be so so proud of yourself. Believe it or not, running/walking 13.1 miles is NOT easy, and it’s not something just anyone can do. You did it. You finished. You didn’t crumple under the weight of something so daunting…wear that medal and frame those photos. You deserve to be proud.
Thanks for sharing your story – I was really moved by this recap, especially considering that I ran this same race last year and couldn’t do it this year. I think your experience only goes to show that while training is important – you never know what it’s going to be like the day of the race. You can’t predict how you’ll sleep the night before, what the weather will be like, what obstructions might occur (literally). I think you did the best you could given the circumstances, and I am proud of you! Just remember that even if this wasn’t your best run and even if you could have done better – you have done better in your training, and so you CAN do this. Race day just puts a timestamp on it. It doesn’t say that you can or can’t do it. It’s just a day.
When I got my books back from the printer the other day, I had a similar feeling to what you’re having regarding this race. I noticed some things I didn’t like, and it was almost as if I couldn’t really enjoy in the afterward. After a few days, I am feeling better – not so stressed and am taking more joy. Just thought this might be helpful in the days to come
[...] Caitlin has a great first half marathon race recap that involved stormy weather and a bomb scare. [...]
Wow girl that was one crazy insane race! I am so proud of you though, you inspire me to keep training so one day I can run my own race like that. I would settle for even 5 miles let alone 13!!!
Wow! So awesome that you persevered through that! Everyone has has bad run days and sometimes they’re on race days. I did a 5k on Saturday that was my worse race to date (not time wise). It was windy and I hadn’t been training on pavement. I ran 5 miles easily on Wed., but on Saturday I had to stop multiple times to walk. I’m just going to keep on going, incorporate one pavement run per week, and hope my first 10k on May 29th goes better.
What an beautifully written, honest post. I can’t even imagine the emotions you must have gone through the entire time and then to deal with bad weather on top of that. I give you so much credit for finishing what you started. thank you for sharing this race recap!
I’m so proud of you. I could NOT have done that. I would have cried like a baby and given up after the bomb scare. You did it, you finished!! I’m sorry it didn’t go the way you expected it too, but does life ever go the way we expected it to? Not really..): I love ya girl. I hope you realize how much you accomplished!
DUDE. You did so well. WELL DONE.
Well Done!!! It take guts to even sign up for a race (I haven’t got up the courage for a much smaller race). We all have off days with sports. Some days training is awesome and others it’s just not. So it makes sense the same thing can happen when racing. I admire you for being able to publish this post and let the world see just how “human” you are. I’m glad you can learn from this, even if you feel down about it.
Congrats again, both for your race, and for another awesome post xxx
I almost started crying reading your race recap. I know how it feels to not have the run you’ve been waiting for forever not go the way you invisioned. Just know, you finished! There are millions of people who are too scared to ever even sign up for a race. There are also many more races ahead of you and guess what…you will only improve!! Great job! Enjoy another beer and be proud of yourself!!
congrats! be proud of what you accomplished!!! you did great and it doesnt matter how you finished, the time it took, or that you walked a lot. you finished! yay! xoxo
Congratulations on finishing! I’m running my first half on Sunday and was looking for some inspiration when I came across your blog. Regardless of how fast or slow, you’re a runner who’s fulfilled a huge goal! Good luck to you.
This post really struck a cord with me. I felt the exact same way after completing my first half marathon this weekend.
[...] I’ve been rocking the same Asics I ran my half marathon in last May. This would be a major problem if I was tracking the same mileage. Instead, it was a [...]