My 2020 Houston Marathon experience:
FRIDAY
Anna and I arrived in Houston in the mid-afternoon. This worked out well as it provided ample time to accomplish things we needed to do without any stress.
Once we got to our Airbnb (and figured out how to get inside), we situated ourselves, then headed out the door to scope out the finish of the race. I always like to run the last 1-2 miles of a race beforehand so I’m familiar with it on race day. It provides a sense of familiarity at the end when you’re tired and, if you happen to be racing someone else, it can give you a leg up on when to start kicking into the finish.
After a successful scope-out run and a quick shower, we met up with my friend Joe for dinner at Benihana. Though I’ve known Joe since sometime in 2001, I haven’t seen him in a few years, so it was nice to catch up.
Anna and I capped off the evening with a grocery store run, then back to our home away from home to relax before heading to sleep.
PC: Amon Mende
SATURDAY
I slept for 10 hours! I almost never sleep that long. After doing a good job all week of incrementally going to bed and waking up earlier, the night two days before a race I allow myself to sleep however long my body says it needs. It said 10 hours and I obliged.
Shortly after eating breakfast Anna and I ran to the expo to pick up our numbers and scope out the starting area. While at the expo we ran into an acquaintance of mine who has run this race 10 times and got some good intel from her. That, plus the information we gleaned from a guy who has worked this event - including structuring the starting area - also for 10 years, was instrumental in forming our logistics plan for race morning. The rest of the day was spent eating, hydrating, and chatting.
Amon joined us in the evening and we all had dinner together. As we were driving “home” from another grocery store run, “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses came on the radio (KKHH 95.7 The Spot, adult hits - an awesome station I highly recommend next time you’re in Houston!). I turned it up loud and sang and car danced my butt off, to Anna and Amon’s enjoyment (I think; sorry there are no pics/video of this). This song played before I set a FKT (fastest known time) a couple of years ago and it’s a song I love from my childhood. Apparently this was what I needed to let out some energy as well as gain some energy because I felt positively different after hearing/belting out that song.
PC: Wikipedia
Before going to sleep I talked with Uli, did a little reading*, then got the usual don’t-sleep-much-the-night-before-a-race type of restless sleep.
*I was reading The Expedition by Chris Fagan about her and her husband’s unassisted, self-propelled journey to the South Pole and felt compelled to finish the chapter that ended with them at the Pole. In the book, Chris mentions saying the words “be strong” to herself over and over to get through rough patches. That ended up in my mind during the marathon. I used it to help me through my rough times and reminded myself that what she and her husband had dealt with was way harder than anything I was going through in my marathon. Fun fact: Chris told me, “Funny that you read that we arrived at the SP last weekend - that is the date we actually arrived there 6 years ago.” Crazy, right?!
RACE DAY
Pre-Race
I woke up early and ate my breakfast feeling calm. Anna, Amon, and I jogged to the start together using our predetermined route. It worked out well, putting me right where I needed to be to get into the ADP (athlete development program) corral. I took off and said good-bye to my tights and the training shoes I had been wearing, changing into my awesome Brooks racing flats and grabbing my gels for the race. I got a hug from Amon, wished Anna a good race, flashed my bib to the security guy, and went into the ADP corral, immediately getting in line for the porta potties.
Don’t worry, they didn’t give me the medal until after I finished.
A lady got in line behind me and struck up a conversation. She was wearing the Brooks racing shoes that are debuting at the Trials, so we talked about those for a bit (I have been fortunate to be a part of the testing process for these shoes from the beginning which has been really fun, especially since I was the only non-professional athlete). While standing in line, I was surprised by how many people I knew - one person I hadn’t seen in close to 10 years, a couple others from the Seattle area, and more. It was fun to briefly catch up. Finally out of the porta potty line (oh, hello there again, Joe!), I went to do my drills and strides. Then everyone in the ADP corral bunched together and inched towards the start line, casting aside our final layers.
Race
The gun went off and I managed to forget that many of these people were running the half marathon. I was wondering how I was so slow compared to many of those around me. I looked up to see the pacer for the women trying to qualify for the Olympic Trials was not far ahead, which helped me realize I was on pace, despite feeling like I was running too slowly.
Hitting the split button on my watch at mile one confirmed I was right on pace. I felt so relaxed and controlled that the time surprised me as I figured I would need to speed up. The first mile has a bit of downhill, though, so I made sure not to get complacent.
A woman seemed to be running the same pace as I was and asked me my goal. It turned out we had the same goal, though she seemed to think we needed to run faster than we were (we were right on pace), so I let her go ahead. Shortly thereafter, someone yelled my name. I turned to my left to see Sierra Brisky running by looking effortless. It was wonderful to see a familiar face. We chatted very briefly and wished each other a great race.
Unfortunately, I “fell asleep” during mile four. Seeing my slow split fully woke me up and I was on high alert from there on out. Right around this time, I started to feel hungry. It was far too early to be hungry. What the heck?! I was carrying more calories than I thought I would need, just in case, but I was worried that it might not be enough if I was already hungry less than a half hour in (I usually eat every 40-45 minutes). I waited a bit longer, then decided if I was hungry, I’d better eat. I could tell it was hampering both my mood and making my effort harder and I was only a little over 5 miles in. Too soon to feel like this! I ate a gel and while it didn’t magically make running feel effortless, it definitely improved how I felt. Phew!
I don’t remember exactly when I first started feeling the wind, but it was fairly early on. The first time I remember swearing because of (at?) it was mile 8-ish. The effort to hold my pace had already been feeling awkwardly harder than expected and now I had to deal with swirling, gusty winds. As usual, I had no group to run with or to shield me from the wind. The half marathon course had recently parted ways with ours, so the masses had thinned. I had been taking it on head first already and that wasn’t changing now in these whipping winds and with even fewer people around.
Mile 9’s winds were simply cruel. They’d hit me hard from the side, then swirl around to get me again from the front. No fair! There should be a rule that wind is only able to knock you down once per gust. Despite this craziness, I was holding my pace, which boosted my confidence in the moment.
Coming up to the halfway point, there’s a decently big hill. I think we go over a freeway, but I honestly wasn’t looking around. It was enjoyably sunny here, but also fully exposed to the wind. Going up the hill felt good. Coming down the other side felt strange, but also in a good way. Then we hit 13.1 and a hairpin turn to the right. I was dismayed at the time I saw on the clock for the half. Was it correct? How could I possibly be running that slowly? My splits had mostly been within a couple of seconds of where I wanted to be (mind you, two seconds per mile over the course of a marathon adds approximately a minute to your overall time). I was feeling bummed that I might not even hit my lowest goal. Particularly in the windy conditions I was unlikely to speed up in the second half.
The wind was sure to remind me of this. Over the course of the next 2-3 miles, we encountered some of the nastiest, swirliest winds along the entire course. I ran faster to catch up behind a guy in front of me so I could use him as a shield. That didn’t last long. He wasn’t taking the tangents and he was slowing down. It also wasn’t extremely effective since the winds were coming from all directions thanks to the tall buildings in the area. I think I swore the most during this part of the race.
I stayed determined to push hard. My minimum goal was to break 3 hours and I had to make that happen, so I figured I’d better put out as much energy and effort as I could, ideally without being stupid about it. Carrying more calories than I needed was reassuring at this point. If it turned out I was working hard enough to need more, I had them. I also had some caffeinated calories. Since I don’t drink coffee or consume much in the way of caffeinated stuff, these give me a little boost as long as I don’t have more than 25-30mg of caffeine at a time (I learned that having more actually makes me feel sleepy and terrible - let’s just say that wasn’t fun to learn during the latter part of a 50k trail race).
For some reason I tend to feel good somewhere between miles 16 and 18 when I run marathons. I reminded myself of this when I hit the mile 16 marker and convinced myself I must be feeling good or at least would be at any moment. It was also around this time I started passing women - and men - who had been quite a bit ahead of me. I tried to gain energy from every pass and use it to propel me forward faster.
When I hit mile 18, things got serious. With 8 miles to go, I knew I still had quite a distance to cover, but also knew it was less than an hour and that I could be strong for that amount of time. I decided to go all in and push hard. Mind you, it was still windy and, even more than before, I was on my own into the wind. I was bearing down, breathing hard (and loud), not allowing myself to give a second to the conditions.
And it worked! Every time I took a split, I’d be surprised at the time I saw on my watch. I was hitting my goal pace! How was this possible? Every mile gave me more confidence and helped me continue to push hard.
Finish stretch! PC: Amon Mende
At mile 19 I finally took off my gloves - thick gloves I would never consider wearing on a run that I figured I’d toss a mile in (I wanted to go back and get them, they were great)! It felt good to let the sun and wind hit my hands. We were out in the open with the sun on us with very few or no shady spots left. It was perfect - minus the wind.
Except for the last mile, the last 4-ish miles felt like they were close to 100% into a headwind. That plus a couple of hills made for a couple of much slower miles. I didn’t care, I was giving all I had. Well, mostly…I do recall some time between miles 23 and 25 where I realized I wasn’t pushing as hard as I had been earlier. Once I realized that, I got mad at myself and dug deeper. Despite my renewed efforts, the slight uphills were made more difficult due to my tight right hamstring. That coupled with the nasty headwind and no one to hide behind continued to make for slow splits.
Finally, I had less than 1.5 miles to go. This was where Anna and I had run to two days earlier while scoping out the finish stretch. That practice paid off again and I told myself that even though the last part would be windy (experienced it Friday and was told that by multiple other folks who had run the race previously), it was flat and I was almost done so I had to give everything.
Turns out the last mile-ish was almost not windy at all - what a nice surprise! My mile splits show I took full advantage of this. My last mile was my fastest by almost 20 seconds! It didn’t hurt that there were a couple of women to catch, including one who had clearly been WAY ahead of me and was now struggling. I knew it didn’t mean a lot to pass someone who was clearly having such a rough go, but I also knew this woman was fast and I was going to pass her with all I had. Any extra motivation at the end of a race is helpful.
I passed her right around the “1/2 mile to go” sign (thank you for that sign!). I tried to push even harder, quickly realizing I only had one gear left, which was for a sprint and it’s not possible to sprint a half mile. I kept pushing hard, giving the best effort I could muster. I was digging deep! I could feel my pace and effort ebb and flow. I was continually telling myself that I needed every second as I had no idea what time I was on pace to hit.
“.2 to go.” Thank goodness for this sign! I pushed harder. Finally I could see the clock. It said “2:57:xx.” What?! I thought I was barely squeaking under 3! Go! Go! Go! Dig deeper, run faster! Break 2:58! I didn’t break into a full on sprint (having a woman right ahead of me to catch or coming up behind me would’ve been the necessary motivation for that kind of effort at that point), but I quickened my turnover and approached the finish line with excitement and a sense of calm because I knew I was going to break 2:58. YES!!! I did it!
My second half ended up only 20 seconds slower than my first half!
Postrace
While I was walking away from the finish with all the other marathoners and half marathoners, like cattle towards the barn, I started to tear up. Here I was all by myself, didn’t hit the time I really wanted, didn’t run an impressive time in the grand scheme of women’s marathons or even in the grand scheme of my marathon career, but I felt incredibly proud of my effort. I also knew this was the fastest I had run in a long time. It was also the strongest I had felt in years - physically and mentally. I really wanted to share this moment with someone - ideally Uli - but I was alone amongst hundreds of people. What a roller coaster ride of emotions!
Less than a year ago I was questioning whether I would ever be able to train well and race strong again (heck, I was even questioning that in the early miles of this race). Was I never going to run sub-3 again? What about my loftier goals? What was the point of continuing to figuratively hit my head against a brick wall training hard and trying to do every. little. thing. right as one must do when trying to maximize their abilities in the sport they have chosen to pursue? It takes so much effort, energy, and focus and I was becoming convinced it was all for naught.
Instead, I ran a big masters PR, the fastest time I have in a long time (I decided I didn’t really want to figure out how long it had been), and proved to myself that I can still get uncomfortable and really push myself. I gained confidence in my body and my mind; confidence I haven’t had in at least 3-4 years. I don’t know if it’s a comeback, but at least it’s a solid foundation upon which I’m excited to build.