I’m feeling a little race spoiled lately. At the last minute, I decided to run a local turkey trot that is just a mile or two down the street from my house. This year was the 36th year of the race, and I know it’s a favorite of so many friends.
My friends Leah and Laura had already signed up for the race, so I crashed their party and signed up too. We all run relatively close to each others pace, so I knew we had potential to push each other while having fun. Before the race started, I also found Bob (my walking hug) and he was going to run with us too.
I was surprised at the size of the race. It sells out at 2500 runners, and I know it was close. I was also surprised by the weather. It was 31 degrees when I left my house that morning. Even with cold temps, the energy before the race was amazing.
My day started early with a trip to the airport. Cole was taking the first flight out to Nashville to see his dad. We splurged on Starbucks while we waited for him to board: a chocolate muffin and coffee. Perfect food before a race.
I had zero expectations for this race. I didn’t have a race plan. I didn’t even care how fast I ran. I was planning on running for fun, but a last minute conversation with my husband and a quick chat with my coach before race start made me change my mind. Since I paid for the race, I might as well race it. Leah and Laura were on board too. Leah wanted a PR with a pace in the 8s. We had our mission.
The race was off, and we were running. My garmin was hiding under my clothes, and I wasn’t willing to give up the thumb holes on my shirt to look. It was bad enough I couldn’t feel my feet until after mile two. I had a lot of aches and pains the first two miles. My hamstrings were tight. My feet hurt. My ankle was sore. I’m sure my body wasn’t warmed up enough even though we jogged a few minutes before the start.
8:37
8:37
By mile 3, my body felt better. By mile 4, I was thankful to be running in a pack. Miles 3 and 4 were hard. There were so many times I wanted to fall back and let my friends run. I sat behind them and just ran. I hoped I could hang on until the finish.
8:26
8:46
8:29
Just after the mile 5 marker, I found a second wind. Running felt easy again, and before I knew it, the finish line was ahead of me.
8:22
7:59 pace
I crossed the finish line with both Laura and Leah with an unexpected new 10k PR.
53:24
28/165 in my age group
Almost one minute faster than the Wicked 10k. Running so many races this fall is really starting to teach me how to run a race. I’m learning, and this makes me excited.
I’m lucky enough to have another race on my calendar next weekend: the Surfin Santa 10 miler. I’m going to try to run it the exact same way I ran this race. I want to see how far the second wind can carry me. These middle distance races intimidate me the most, so I know this race will be good for me. I have another PR to set.
Shortly after the bombing at the Boston Marathon, I read a post on Facebook that left an impression on me. The marathon is one of the few places left where the human spirit thrives. Runners accept water from strangers. We eagerly accepted orange slices and bananas from people we’ve never met. Hugs and high fives are welcomed by all. Human compassion is the driving force in the 26.2 mile road race. It may be the individual who runs every step of the race, but it would never be possible without the community. It would never be possible without loving husbands at home who watch kids for hours, for parents who cheer you on, and for the strangers who want you to succeed. Although it is a competitive sport, competition does not exist in the heart of a runner.
These thoughts echoed through my head in Richmond on Saturday. The community of Richmond showed up with open arms, endless cheers, and unwavering support. Every corner was lined with a smile.
Even though my race wasn’t the race I had dreamed of since the day I registered, it deepened my love of this sport, this distance, and this community. It’s been five days since I’ve raced. If it wasn’t for my race photos reminding me of my “do not throw up” feeling for 16 miles, I doubt I would remember that I was sick. This race filled my heart. It’s the tiny moments of compassion that I will always remember when I think back to my second marathon.
• The start line and the sea of runners. During one of the first miles, we turned down Monument Avenue and the stream of runners was visible for blocks and blocks.
• My husband’s face when he found me before the first bridge crossing. I was floating at this point. The race was perfect.
• The laughter I found after I got sick at mile 10. For the first time in my life, I didn’t panic. It was going to be okay.
• Seeing Bob at mile 11. If you know him, you know how amazing he is. His eyes have a softness to them. He is like a walking hug.
• The stranger who rubbed my back at mile 13. He just wanted me to be okay.
• The friend I made along the river. Neither one of us were having our “A” day, yet we were in it together. It was going to be okay.
• My friend Sara standing along the course cheering me. She is the reason I love running. She is my running inspiration. And even though she can’t run right now, she showed up to cheer.
• The stranger who gave me a strawberry. “Ask and you shall receive,” was her response. Nothing has ever tasted so good.
• Every single person who cheered me on by name. I can’t thank you enough.
• Richmond knows how to welcome its runners. The crowd support was amazing. Every single neighborhood welcomed us. You all are amazing.
• Bart Yasso cheering me on by name at mile 4.5 and 18. Thank you for the high five.
• At mile 23, the Lululemon cheer team helped me round the corner. This was the first time I let it soak in that the finish line was around the corner. Happy tears flooded my eyes.
• The stranger who handed out Coke. He purchased this on his own. He set up his own table. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You settled my stomach.
• The stranger who texted my husband from the finish line. I couldn’t find him, and I needed him. She told him exactly where I was.
And then there are the people who weren’t on the race course who cheered me on from home.
• My parents who kept my boys. There support has been amazing.
• All my friends who sat by their phones waiting for the next text. I felt my heart swell every time I crossed the timing mat.
• My running coach who has believed in me from the day I met him. He didn’t flinch when I quit back in October. He didn’t question when I changed my mind again a day later. He’s helped me do my best no matter what. Anyone who is willing to bike with me for hours and hours while I run deserves a medal.
And then there is my husband. I don’t have words for how much I love him or loved having him with me on the course. He stayed when I needed him. He went ahead when I asked him too. He thought for me when I couldn’t think anymore. When I found him at the finish line, I wanted nothing more than to hug him forever. 26 miles is a long distance to run. It’s even longer when you don’t feel good. My husband, who isn’t the most compassionate person, was filled with compassion on that day.
The marathon is where the human spirit thrives. We live in a society that is quick to turn it’s back when people struggle. We are quick to shame people and cast judgement when people don’t live according to our own standards. We forgot that we are all in this together. On the road for 26.2 miles, there is no judgement. Shaming doesn’t exist. The community is a safety net for every single runner ready to catch them if they fall. The community is there to make sure our dreams come true.
Thank you Richmond for being my safety net! I truly love your city!
Oh Race Day! I knew my biggest challenge on race day would be my brain. I had to keep my head in the game. I had to stay optimistic. I had to stay positive. No matter how tough the race became, I had to stay engaged. While I did not have a time goal going into this race, there was a range I knew I would fall into depending on the circumstances of the race. I did not post these numbers or talk about the much because I did not want the race clock to be my driving force on race day. I wanted my heart to guide me, and the emotion of a marathon knows nothing about numbers.
If race day was perfect, if everything fell into place, I knew I had a shot at break 4 hours. A sub 4 hour marathon is a 9:07 pace.
Marathon reality was anywhere from 4:00 – 4:20 in my head. If I could be brave and fight, I knew I’d end up in the low 4s even if things got tricky. If I was timid, I expected my range to be in the 4:1X.
Plan Z is always to finish without jeopardizing my own health and any future running plans.
My race strategy was to duplicate the effort I put into my 20 mile training run. I would then fight for the last 6.2 miles.
I woke up race day morning shocked to hear the sound of pouring rain outside. The forecast was not predicting rain. In that moment, I was thankful for the last minute decision to grab my ran coat and a hat. Fortunately the temperature outside weren’t freezing. A light rain and 50 degrees were just fine by me.
I got to the start just as the half marathon race was starting. I used the bathroom, I ate my gel, I drank some water, and the race was off.
The first few miles flew by. I was running without much thought. The course is beautiful, and there is so much to look at along the way. At mile 3, I got warm and quickly got rid of my jacket. The course was pretty congested with runners in my pace zone. Because the streets were filled with rain and puddles, we were splashing all over each other. My feet were quickly soaking wet. At mile 4, Bart Yasso cheered me on. This part of the race was just fun. As I settled into my groove, I was just so proud to have made it to the start line.
Mile 1: 9:17
Mile 2: 9:07
Mile 3: 8:52
Mile 4: 9:04
Miles 5 – 7 led to the first bridge to cross the River. The neighborhood was stunning. I was oblivious to my pace and the elevation change at this point in the race. I think I glanced at my garmin no more than a few times the entire race. The first 5 miles were a slow incline. Miles 5 – 7 were a nice decline down the river, and based on my garmin I took advantage of the downhill.
Mile 5: 9:02
mile 6: 9:12
10K Race Clock: 56:49 (9:07 pace)
mile 7: 8:30
What goes down has to come back up. After we crossed the river, the course followed the river downstream through another gorgeous neighborhood Miles 8 – 15 were on the south side of the river and were gently rolling hills. I had heard from several people that the hills weren’t too bad. They lied (but I’m glad they did)! The first half of this race is a lot hillier than I expected. If I lived in the mountains, they would be easy. I live at the beach, and my only elevation change is bridge crossings. I incorporated these bridges into my training runs, but it wasn’t enough. I need more hill work.
Mile 8: 9:25
Mile 9: 9:23
Christian had found me right before the first bridge crossing. At mile 9, my stomach started to turn. It was in knots. I remember telling him I felt like I needed to throw up. My body felt great at this point. I was still having fun. My run felt easy and light. My stomach had different plans. I took a drink of water from Christian, and I instantly felt it coming back up. Throw up #1 just happened.
Mile 10: 10:27
What husbands are good for….great race photos!
I got myself back together. Christian made sure I was okay. I looked at him, laughed, and said, “Plan B. Here we go!” I sent him ahead a few miles, and tried to find a running grove that felt good on both my legs and my stomach. While my legs were behaving (even my hips!), I could not get my stomach to settle. I started taking walk breaks every time I felt the need to throw up. I did not and was not willing to throw up for 16 miles. I’d run a mile, settle my stomach, and run some more. Run/Walking at mile 11 was not my plan, but I adapted. I stayed happy.
Mile 11: 10:26
Mile 12: 11:01
Mile 13: 10:11
Just after mile 11, I saw one of my favorite people. Bob, from J&A racing, was out on the course support Team in Training. There is something about him that makes you feel like anything is possible. I ran a few blocks with him, welcomed his encouragement, and set my sights on the half marathon marker. Somewhere before the half mark, I started craving real food. I felt like if I could stuff my stomach maybe it would settle (good logic, maybe not?). Christian dropped back to peel an orange for me and said he would catch up. After I threw up the first time, I told myself I had to make to the half way mark. I let it pull me. Friends and family at home were waiting for the text update of my half marathon time. I wanted them to know I was doing this.
As soon as I crossed that mat, it happened again. I found myself throwing up. One of the nicest strangers I’ve ever meet came over and started rubbing my back. He made sure I was okay, and I was back on the course running. Just as I stood back up, I saw Christian bike by. He had missed me. I was so worried that he would be worried about me when he couldn’t find. When I stepped back on to the road to run, another runner passed me. We had been going back and forth all morning. He looked like he was in pain too, so I said hi. We swapped stores, and ran with each other until the next bridge crossing where Christian was waiting for me again. We both just wanted to get to the bridge.
Mile 14: 10:57
Mile 15: 9:32
Second Bridge Crossing
I made it to the bridge. The bridge crossing didn’t feel nearly as long as I had expected. My stomach was still a mess. I was still taking walk breaks every mile to calm it down. I just didn’t want to throw up. I knew that once I gave into the process, I would be done. Miles 16 -21 were really all a blur. I kept my head low. I found my friend Sara on the sidelines and happily accepted her hug. I made sure I high-fived every kid I saw with an extended hand. I needed their energy. I felt like I needed to curl up in a ball, but I wasn’t wiling to give in. My stomach kept cramping, my gag reflex was engaged, but I had to keep running. There was another timing mat waiting for me at mile 20. I needed to send the text to everyone at home that I was still moving. My most vivid memory from these miles is constantly telling Christian that I was okay. I didn’t want him worried about me.
Mile 16: 10:32
Mile 17: 10:50
Mile 18: 10:45
Mile 19: 10:44
Mile 20: 10:36
20 Mile Race Clock – 3:17:38 (9:53 pace)
Mile 21: 10:32
After mile 21, my need to finish took over. My legs were no longer feeling good. My left ankle was on fire. My feet were throbbing (running in wet socks for 16 miles is not fun!). My stomach still wouldn’t settle. I knew I had to keep moving. I couldn’t throw up. I pushed forwards and when the urge to throw up hit me, I’d walk.
Mile 22: 10:55
Mile 23: 10:41
When there was only 3.1 miles left in the race, I ran under a banner that was the start sign for a Richmond 5k Fun Run. I knew I could run a 5k even if I threw up the whole way. Somewhere near this point in the race, someone was handing out Coke. It was the best thing I could have found. It calmed my stomach (Coke is my hang over cure, duh! Christian will now carry Coke in his bag at all future races!). I had conquered my stomach (almost), now I just had to conquer the pain in my legs and feet.
Mile 24: 9:54
Mile 25: 10:04
Mile 26: 9:56
Last stretch: 8:04 pace
The last 1/2 mile of the course is a sharp down hill. There was no stopping. I didn’t have the energy to fight my legs at this point. I just held on, resisted the urge to throw up, prayed I wouldn’t fall on my face and found myself at finish line.
Finish Time: 4:22:30 (9:59 pace)
2342/4798 Finishers
Gender Place: 914/2342
Age Place: 144/369
Happy to be done, and not quite able to stand up straight anymore.
It was a crazy race. I still can’t believe it happened. I have so many thoughts in my head about the magic of running a marathon. I have even more thoughts about how much I love this race and the people who support me. I’ll save that for another post (or a conversation over coffee with friends who want to hear it). This post is long enough.
If you had asked me on Saturday morning if I’d be happy with a 4:22 finish, I would have told you there was no way that would be my finish time. I’d run faster. Today, I’m thrilled. It wasn’t in my range of finish times, but either was being sick for 16 miles. I stuck to my goals. I didn’t let doubt dictate my run. I stayed mentally engaged, and I fought for my finish line. I am so very happy!
Why did I get sick? I really don’t know. The only thing new I did on race day was add some diluted Gatorade to my routine, but I have done this in so many races. It’s never upset my stomach. I think I may have had a bit of a bug. I was achy the entire week leading up to race day but blamed my taper. Saturday morning when I woke, I couldn’t get myself out of bed. This is not normal for me on race day. I am normally up all night and awake before my alarm clock. I pulled myself out of bed 30 minutes before it was time to leave. I was chilled to the bone and lacked energy. During the race, I had hot flashes and chills. Who knows? I’ve also had no appetite since the race. Who isn’t starving for days after a marathon?
Another marathon in the books. Somehow I came home with an official PR in both the half and the marathon distance. While I’m still having a hard time standing up straight, I hate the stairs, and I could nap for days, I can not wait to do it again. I have so much more in me. This race is just a stepping stone for what I can accomplish in the future!
When I trained for my first official race in 2009, I was intimidated by the distance. I didn’t care about time or pace, I just wanted to run the miles. I was timid. I was cautious. I had a lot of doubt. Because these feelings played a big role in my training, I guarded myself. I physically shortened my stride. I didn’t reach. I held my hips tight. I held myself close. Both my physical body and my emotional self were held in. It was easier to run further with the abbreviated stride. It felt safer. I tiptoed towards new distances, and I was happy with every success.
That first race taught me so much. I proved to myself that I was capable.
2nd half marathon, Nov 2010, Richmond
This summer I spent all my time learning how to run again. Distance doesn’t scare me anymore. I know I can cover the miles. My coach has guided me. We have lengthened my stride. I’m reaching again. The first time I did speed work with him on the trails, my heart filled with joy. I was running again. I felt the running legs that existed in my 16-year-old self that beat all the boys in the mile run during gym class. I felt alive.
In so many ways training for the Richmond marathon has been a fresh start.
In less than 48 hours, I will have crossed both the start and the finish line of my second marathon. I feel ready. I feel confident. I trust my training. The path to the start line has been unconventional. With the support of my coach, we have made it work. We’ve dealt with hip injuries and nagging foot pain, yet somehow it has worked. It wasn’t perfect, but neither is life.
Just like life, I’m also trying to figure out the balance of setting time goals and achievement goals. I do not, and will not, let the time on the race clock define my success on race day so you won’t find time predictors in this blog post. Just like my race goals for Crawlin Crab, it’s a feeling I’m chasing down.
Run with a light heart
Run with clear mind
Run with the strength in my body
Trust my reach
Be Brave
Be Strong
Fight for the finish
Run in the present
I’m drawing a heart on my hand on race day to remind me that this race is about running from my heart. It’s about lifting myself up during the hard miles. It’s about being my own cheerleader. It’s about running each mile. I won’t be chasing a pace on my garmin or on the finish line clock. I’m not even sure I want my pace showing on race day. I know what I’m capable of running when I allow my body to run. I know when I’m giving it everything I’ve got.
During this race, I have to trust my reach. I have to trust the openness in my hips. I have to know that I can stay in a stride that is open (and a little vulnerable). I will not run this race timid. I plan on running smart but aggressive. I will not second guess myself. I will run what my legs are offering me on race day.
My coach and I have had many of talks about what time I’m capable of running on race day. His predictions are a little scary to me. They feel like big goals I really need to reach for, but that is what this race is about. It’s about reaching with my legs and with my heart to get me to the finish line.
Open Heart. Open Stride. Reach with my heart. Reach with my legs.
That is my race day plan. That is what I’ll be repeating over and over again in the last 6.2 miles when my body wants to stop.
26.2 miles (hills please be nice to this sea level runner)
2 days and counting!!!!
If you want to follow along during the next two days, follow me on facebook or instagram (@Breathofsunshine). Tomorrow we head to Richmond. Saturday at 8am, I will be lined up in Corral 2 waiting to start.
For most of my life I’ve walked around wearing armor. I was never short of a smile or a friendly hello, but I protected myself. There were very few people I developed close friendships with. I had myself convinced that I was meant to follow the clear path in front of me. I lacked the courage and the confidence to open myself up to the world. I was always afraid that if I wanted something, if people got too close, I’d end up disappointed.
That clear path didn’t work for me. It never has. Avoiding connections with others left me feeling alone. I was meant to make my own path.
I got divorced. I created a new path. I moved back home. I feel in love when it didn’t make sense. Then I rediscovered my love of running. The armor has slowly disappeared. Loving Christian has always felt safe. The more I run, the more I make my own path, the less I protect myself, the more my heart is opening up. I’m less guarded. I’m learning that if I stand tall, if I let my true heart be seen, it’s okay if the world doesn’t embrace it. It’s me and those who see me and love me are the ones who deserve my love in return. Some friendships don’t work out. That’s okay. Some people just don’t like me. That’s okay. I’m learning that the truer I am to myself, the truer the relationships I will have with people who embrace me.
My heart is changing. It’s opening. It’s less protected. It’s starting to shine. This is changing everything.
I’m running with a (light) heart. This has made ever run satisfying. Whether the run ends up be a great run or just another run, I walk away knowing its part of the puzzle.
I’m welcoming friendship with an (open) heart. In the past, I would have shied away from lunch dates or run dates with new friends. Not anymore. This has brought wonderful new genuine people into my life. I had brunch won’t Hollie from fueledbylolz and walked away knowing I have a new friend. I shared 10 miles with Lesleyanne from Beachyrunner Saturday morning. Even though we are friends we’ve never run together (she is speedy). I would have normally shied away from this, but not today. It was the perfect run before my marathon. So many of the great friends in my life in recent years have appeared when I said yes to an invite that intimidated me. Over the past year, some really wonderful people have entered my life.
I am making a conscience effort to live life with a (whole) heart.
When I embrace each day from this place of self acceptance, there isn’t a need to guard my heart. I don’t need the armor anymore.
There are 5 days between me and my second marathon. I’m showing up to the start line with my heart exposed, and I plan on running every single one of those miles with my whole heart.
I’m amazed by how much strength comes from living a life from my heart.
Kristy Maute 