This is a guest post by ERC member and marathon runner, Christine Vassen — one half of the “marathon mommas” who had a weekly guest blog here on Runner’s Notes chronicling their steps to completing their first marathon in Cleveland in May.
The longest and ugliest training run
By Christine Vassen
Saturday marked the final longest training run for the Erie Marathon. 26 miles. I am following a hybrid of the Galloway program.
It’s been a long summer with more upheaval than I can describe. The week proceeding the training run – it was ugly. Various things happened that won’t matter 6 months from now but starting out Saturday morning – I wasn’t mentally prepared but knew I needed to go.
It was the same route as my 23 miler a few weeks before with an added ‘twist’ of some extra hills for the last 3 miles.
The route sounded great on paper.
I’ve got water planted and have to pass my parents house twice. I would pass their house as practice for passing my vehicle come marathon day. I know the tempation to stop will be strong so I tried to build that into the training runs.
By Mile 1, the stress of the week was winning and I was mentally falling apart. Why am I running? What do I want from running? Why a marathon – why not be happy with a 5K? Does this body part hurt? Who figured out this route – it’s got flipping hills every step? Who thought this song would remotely keep me on pace/motivated? This is crazy – 26 miles – 26 miles – I’m not built to run 26 miles.
If those where the question on Mile 1 so you can image what I was like by Mile 10.
Oddly, Mile 10 wasn’t any worse than Mile 1 body wise I was holding together but my pace was all over the place. Mile 13 – the 1/2 point. I was functionally 1 minute over the magic time goal. Forget that it’s hilly and I’m mentally trashed. I sunk lower. I stopped in my track. What now, I’m in the middle of nowhere – do I call home and give up? No, I started moving again, had to do the miles – Ugly as they maybe – had to get this run done. Something about mental toughness.
Mile 15, my mom passes me. She actually Waves. This is HUGE. Mom normally barely moves over much less Waves. I wave back and start up the 2 Mile slow grade hill that I thought would add some ’spice’ to Mile 16-18.
As I said, the route sounded great on paper.
Mile 17, I’m just past my parents house. Dad drives by – doesn’t even slow down much less wave.
Mile 19, the swear words completely appear. I put a relatively steep 1/2 mile uphill. I could turn homeward or go up the (Beep) hill. Up the hill, the Garmin reminding me that I was more crawling than running.
I make the turn and head towards the water planted at Mile 20. I’m walking – used too much energy on the hill and the body is starting to agree with the brain logic.
Mile 19.75 (I love my Garmin). Dad comes rolling down the road. He ‘accidentally’ missed the turn to the normal road home. Accidentally. It’s a quiet side road, I maybe seen 6 cars the entire route. He stops and says – Do you want a ride home? You really don’t look that good.
I stop the watch and lean into the car.
Dad — OH Dad. I paused a long moment – - long enough I realize this was a significant moment.
Dad – Thanks but No. I need to forge ahead if I’m going to finish the race in 3 weeks. I appreciate the offer but I just can’t take you up on it.
And with that I step back from the car.
He says – Ok - then gives me a second glance before he rolls up the window and zips away. I walk to the water.
What was I thinking? He offered me an air conditioned ride home and I refused? Mile 21, I was holding the cell phone. Just call Bill. Get a ride home. Failure. I’m functionally was over the timelimit and done. Plus
II was at the bottom of another hill. I walked and stared at the phone.
One thought saved me. He’d tell my Dad!! Christine refused a run from Dad at Mile 20 then called Hubby for a ride at Mile 21. I knew I’d never live that down between Hubby and Dad.
I somehow managed to run down the hill at Mile 24. There was a family preparing for some celebration tying out balloon openly staring at me coming down the hill. The one guy said – did you realize there was a hill there?
I just nodded and trudged ahead.
I call Bill, less than a 1/4 mile from home. Bill - Bad run. I can’t flip to Super Mom when I walk in the door. I get inside, take off the hydration belt and collapse onto the floor. I’m lying there – the kids are circling. Mom you look bad. Mom – are you breathing? Love honesty from the kids.
I get up – I need to or I’ll cramp up completely.
I get up – take 2 painful step. My LOVING 7 year old give me a shove in the butt and I barely catch myself from falling.
Bill says – what are you thinking?
Son – Well – mom wasn’t moving fast and I thought a shove would help.
I said nothing and crawled upstairs.
About 1.5 hours later, I was Super Mom again – with a slight hobble. But with the knowledge that the ugliest and longest run didn’t win.
