March Madness 1/2 marathon
Most people associate this race with one of three things:
1.) that ridiculous race you have to wake up at 6am for to
register since it sells out in 20 minutes
2.) the best tune-up race in Illinois for those running the Boston
Marathon
3.) the race with the most unpredictable weather and hills that
hurt you until midweek
I associate the race with my soccer-playing days:
1.) working the water stations, hoping a runner would grab my
cup but not splash me too much
2.) munching on Munchkins while waiting to get out of the car
to work the aid station
3.) and, the best part of all, eating those warm yummy pretzels
after our job was finished
Ever since I “retired” from collegiate running, I have run
the March Madness ½ marathon. Growing up in a running family, it seemed like
the logical thing for me to do. Couple that with the fact that my dad is the
president of the group that puts the race on, and it only seems fitting that I
would come back year after year to run this crazy race.
This year was a bit different.
With Ryan and my target race, Ironman Los Cabos, exactly two
weeks out from the date of March Madness, we had a decision to make. Actually,
Ryan had a decision to make. Hands down, the March Madness ½ marathon is one of
the top three meaningful races I run every year. The sense of pride that I know
my dad and his running buddies feel when I do well at this race tops any other
feeling I can get after a race. These people watched me grow up and believed in
my ability year after year, injury after injury. The question of whether I
would run the race or not never even crossed my mind.
Until about 7:30am on race day.
15 degrees, 20 miles per hour wind. Yeah, that didn’t sound
like the most fun “race” to run in Ryan’s mind, and he was beginning to
convince me of the same. However, the second I walked into the gym at Cary
Grove High School, my dad’s friends began talking to me to see if I was “going
for it” again this year, and my mindset changed completely.
I told them all I would be running conservatively: with the
key race of the year being only two weeks away, I really needed to be smart. I
had messaged back and forth with my running friend Jonathan the night before
about how we wanted to run the race. We ran the entire race together in 2013
(not planned at all), so running with him seemed like a good idea, and we
discussed running a 1:24 with the given conditions. I knew I was in better
shape than my 1:22 time from last year, so a 1:24 would leave me with plenty of
room to lessen the fatigue in my legs.
After a very small amount of time warming up with my brother
Nic and seeing my friend Megan, we lined up on the starting line. A few minutes
later, off we went into the brutal headwind.
Seeing how I was not planning on full-on racing, I did not
want to tuck behind other runners. I go back and forth with this feeling, but
in that moment, a wind block most definitely would have been nice.
The first few miles of this race are flat, even downhill, so
I generally start pretty conservatively. Jonathan and I were running with two
other running buddies, Wendy and Mark, and we kept telling each other how we
needed to slow down the pace. Despite having a 20mph+ headwind, our three
splits were 6:25, 6:17 and 6:08.
And then it happened.
My hands went numb, and I started secretly panicking that I
would pass out like I did back on January 1st. I was holding onto a
gel, but wanted to fold my hands into a fist inside my glove to try to warm
them up. I shoved the gel into my tights and that’s when things got weird.
I did all this while running down hill, so my stride was
naturally different. Apparently it was different enough to cause my gel to
slither its way down my leg and get trapped behind my right knee. From mile
three on, I ran with the nervousness that my gel would explode and just drip
all over my leg. Luckily, it did not
break open, but just made me look like I had a giant knot in my calf.
The next three miles, Jonathan and I got into a grove and he
did a great job of dictating a consistent pace—6:18, 6:19, 6:17.
We were lucky to see a lot of our Dick Pond Fast Track friends
and many of my dad’s HIllstriders friends throughout these miles and they
alerted us that there was still one female ahead of me.
Last year, Jonathan and I passed the lead female right after
mile 6, and this year, it appeared as though we would do the same. Ironically
enough, the point where we passed her is the part that I like least about this
course. This year, the second place female stuck with us for a little bit, but
I experienced something I don’t usually: confidence. I knew that even though
she was running with us, I was strong enough that I could pull away.
A few moments earlier, I had glanced at my watch at the
halfway point. Jonathan and I both realized it at the same time: we were on
pace to run faster than the 1:20 high we did in 2013. And the weather was a
good 20 degrees colder and at least 10mph higher in windspeed.
Going up the dreaded mile 7 hill, I always see my former
P.E. teacher from 6th grade. And, just as she does every year, she
pumped me up to push harder up the hill and Jonathan and I gapped the second
place female.
Mile 7 – 6:20.
Miles 8 and 9 tend to be quicker as there is a nice downhill
after mile 7, slight uphill and then a long stretch that is straight.
Unfortunately, this year, that straight stretch had a lovely 20mph headwind
that came with it.
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Mile 8 – 6:12, mile 9 – 6:09.
Mile 10 is right after the enormous uphill…the same uphill
that we ran down where my gel slid down my leg. Everyone dreads this hill, as I
was reminded when overhearing conversations in the gym prior to the race start.
Jonathan had to yell at me a bit on this one since this hill always breaks me
down a bit.
Mile 10 – 6:21.
At this point, Jonathan had turned around and told me the
next girl wasn’t even close, so I made the decision that I’d slow down a bit
with the constant thought of Cabo in the back of my head. I told him that he
could go for it if he wanted as there was another guy right in front of us that
he could easily run it in with. His response? “I was going to tell you the same
thing.” So, we decided to keep running together.
As we weaved through the neighborhoods that strung miles 10
and 11 together, it was very obvious we were gaining on the guy in front of us.
The next few miles were interesting with the two guys pushing and pulling back
and forth.
Mile 11 – 6:14.
Up the last tough incline we went and into the final mile
neighborhood we flew. I could feel this potentially becoming a
sprint-to-the-finish kind of race between Jonathan and our picked up friend, so
kind of liked watching it all unfold.
Mile 12 – 6:12.
I speak softly to Jonathan, “Push yourself, you can beat
this guy. We have less than a mile to go” to which he responded, “We already
passed mile 12?” Yep, that’s how “in the zone” we were. I start pushing the
pace, because quite frankly at this point I’m feeling unbelievable. I felt like
I had just started my run, and I honestly wanted to kill the last mile with
Jonathan. Out of the neighborhood, onto the main road (Three Oaks) and up onto
the bike path, it was obvious Jonathan and our friend were going to be in a
sprint finish situation. Since it didn’t affect me one way or another, and I
decided my priority was to be safe than sorry, I decided not to go with them. I
knew I wouldn’t break 1:22 regardless of the effort I put in, and just did not
want to risk anything with being so close to my big race.
Mile 13 – 5:50.
Um. I guess I had a lot left in me if the last mile of the
race was my fastest.
1:17 (5:34 pace) for the final 0.1 of the race.
It was an incredible feeling watching Jonathan edge the guy
in front of him out because we had worked hard together to make that happen. He
pushed me harder than I would have pushed myself, and told me I did the same
for him. I already told him we would be doing this race again together next
year as he seriously made the race feel good and easy the entire way through.
It was just the confidence I needed going into Cabo.
After the race, it was a whirlwind experience. I was talking
to my Dick Pond Fast Track friends, the newspaper reporter, my family, my dad’s
Hillstriders friends… I truly felt like a “local celebrity” as a former
colleague used to say. The way everyone made me feel after the race cannot be
duplicated because no race has the special meaning that this race does to me.
This race was truly the icing on the cake going into Cabo.
Last Sunday, Ryan and I did a bike Time Trial race and I won for the
females…something I never would have dreamt possible prior to the past season
of biking I’ve had (and most certainly not after that lovely crash last
summer). This past Friday, after having two horrible swim workouts in a row, I
had a major breakthrough in the pool and hit 100m splits that I never thought
possible.
With just over one week until race day, the fitness is
there. All I have to do now is stay smart, and focused.
Thank you for the incredible support I’ve received over the
past few years, but in particular over this last training cycle. Not being able
to train outside, I at times felt stir crazy and questioned why we signed up
for another Ironman. After seeing the incredible encouragement, excitement and
support from this past weekend, I am even more focused and ready to race.
Ironman Cabo: I’m ready for you!
