It has been over a week since I crossed the Finish Line at the Ottawa Marathon and I have had time to reconcile myself to the fact that I did not achieve my A Goal or my B Goal, but that I solidly met my C goal which was to arrive at the Start Line uninjured and to cross the Finish Line intact.
Don’t even ask me about my Finish Time… .. thankfully my Garmin died at 38k, and I haven’t even looked up my official finish time but I suspect that it was about 45 minutes slower than my A goal. What went wrong? Well.. that is a good question. There are so many things….
- Tourists do not make good marathoners. In the two days leading up to the marathon, my running buddies and I enjoyed some walking tours of the beautiful city of Ottawa. On Friday my walking distance measured over 17k and on Saturday it was close to 12k. Here is Tourist Diane sporting a #flaghat in front of our Parliament Buildings.
- In New Brunswick we haven’t seen the sun since mid-April and I completely forgot to pack sunscreen. When I realized that Marathon Day was going to be sunny, I decided to buy sunscreen but a running buddy offered to let me use hers. It was not waterproof and therefore did not stand up to the misting stations / hoses and sprinklers that lined the route. I burned.
- The first 26km went according to plan and I was right on schedule and feeling good. Then the wheels fell off my bus and I started to labor hard to maintain that pace. At 27k I started vomiting. Gross!
- I have trained in all sorts of weather/ conditions and pride myself on being able to dissociate quite well. To my surprise I did not recover after vomiting and immediately felt drained and listless. The cool green grass was inviting me to lie down and sleep but I resisted and kept going forward.
- Kilometers 27 -39. Every time I tried to run I felt like puking so I walked briskly. At least it felt brisk, but in hindsight it was more like a plod. If you passed me at this point ( and there were hundreds who did) you would have heard me muttering , ” Never again. Never Fucking again. I am never ever fucking running another fucking marathon. Ever fucking again. Fuckety fuck fuck.”
- At around the 39k mark I was passed by a Nordic walker. Are you fucking kidding me? A Nordic fucking walker! Hells, no… ! Somehow I managed to muster enough energy to shuffle/run to the Finish Line.
What a welcome sight it was to see the “400 meters to go” sign.” And then 400 meters after that was another sign that said “200 meters to go.” I had no idea that 200 meters was so far.
This was a race that shouldn’t have been tough, but it was. I was prepared physically and mentally, or so I thought. I’m not sure what happened but I suspect that I might have overheated from the sunburn. It was a hot day but not unbearably hot. Or it might have been some fluke stomach virus. The next day I had severe flu-like symptoms for several hours. Who know…?
Am I disappointed with my results? Not really. The important thing is that I had the courage to reach the Start Line, and the strength to reach the Finish Line.
Will I run another marathon? Duh.. yeah.