Last week I kept thinking,
how hardcore do you have to be for the Hard Corps Marathon? Apparently, very hardcore. It was rough, really rough. I don't want to re-live it, but for the sake of this report, I will.
We were up at 4:30AM on Saturday to make the trip out to Oceanside. I slept in the car, but it didn't seem like long before we were pulling onto base. Luckily, Beau knows his way around Pendleton so he took a backroad to the start line to avoid traffic. The sun was rising when we got there and the valleys we're filled with overcast (Clue #1: Valleys = presence of hills/mountains). It was pretty cold and Beau warned me to keep on my arm warmers on because it would be colder as we ran to the ocean. I obliged thinking that Saturday would be as overcast and gloomy as Friday, this turned out to not be the case.
It was a small race, maybe 300 people, with a good mix of military and civilians. They wrote our age and "M" or "C" on our legs like it was some hardcore triathlon. This only spurred competition (and later on frustration when someone way older than me passed me). Everything felt fine and things were going as planned so I felt like I could have a decent race. Boy, was I wrong.
The first four miles were supposed to be a gradual downhill out of base towards the ocean. I quickly realized that the downhill was more like rolling hills (Clue #2: Rolling hills are a recurring theme here). My pace was around 9:00, but it felt fine and I didn't feel like I was working too hard. When we got towards the ocean, my worst fear was realized. The course was on the East-side of the freeway, about half a mile away from it, all up in those mountains! Mind you, this course is advertised all over the place as "flat" - this is a big, fat lie! I can't say I didn't expect this, I mean, look at Pendleton, but I was sure hoping for the best!
For eight miles, the course ran North. It was up and down and up and down. There were plenty of aid stations with some very friendly Marines encouraging us and offering help. Because it was such a small race, I was running alone and it was very uneventful. I was panicking, the hills were really freaking me out and my music was doing nothing to distract me. By about mile 6-7, the leaders of the race were already on their way back. They looked like hell and soon I would know why. I started counting the number of people that were on their way back, it was a good distraction. By the time I reached the turnaround, mile 12, I was #223 (Yes, I was heading up the back of the pack). I was around 2 hours so I knew I hadn't fallen so far behind, but I felt like hell. I was taking walking breaks pretty often, even though I tried not to, but kept them short. They always say that when you're having a great race the mile markers appear unexpectedly, but when you're having a bad race, you have to chase them down. I was chasing them at the halfway point - not a good sign.
I still don't know what happened. Maybe my body was exhausted from all these races. Maybe it was the heat (well into the 70s). Maybe it was all the hills, sucking my energy up. It was just one of those races. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to cry. I think I was on the verge of tears the last ten miles. I just hated it and wanted it to be over. I even called my brother at one point. He's pretty tough with me so I was looking for a kick in the ass. Somehow, someway, I trudged my way back. There's not much to say about the race, it was slow, I walked a lot, and I didn't care.
Head down in shame - couldn't even look at that clock!
I crossed the line at 5:02:36 - an absolute Personal Worst, but I still don't care. I cried a little bit because I was so frustrated and broken, but it's over. I'm still proud to have completed my 3rd marathon in 60 days. Not every race will be like LA and that's okay. A real runner knows that you have bad days and bad races. I know I can do better so I'm resting up - 47 days until the San Diego Rock N Roll Marathon! Better yet, let's call it the Rock N Redemption Marathon! Look out!
Do you see me? Way back there? With my head down? My goodness, so pathetic!
Mile 22: I was explaining to the photographer that it was very mean to take pictures at this point in the race and that I would not buy his photo. You say mean things when you're delirious!
And when my husband finally comes to one of my races, he decides THIS is the moment to take a picture together?!? I wasn't interested.
Do you see me? Way back there? With my head down? My goodness, so pathetic!
Mile 22: I was explaining to the photographer that it was very mean to take pictures at this point in the race and that I would not buy his photo. You say mean things when you're delirious!
And when my husband finally comes to one of my races, he decides THIS is the moment to take a picture together?!? I wasn't interested.
