My dream did not come true in HOU: The race

The long version part 2 (the short version is here, the long version part 1 is here):

My dream did not come true in HOU,
but this guy's may have!

Before the race I enjoyed seeing familiar friendly faces in the ADP corral, and after a little more warming up we were walked up to the starting line behind the elites.  I could see the 2:45 pacer's sign not far ahead.  Both my coach and husband had encouraged me to get as close to the starting line as possible, since OTQ goes off gun time, but I would have had to be aggressive to get any closer than I was.  I counted the seconds from the gun until I crossed the starting mat, and it was about 10.  I then settled into rhythm with the women around me, gauging off the 2:45 pacer.

It was still somewhat dark at the start, but I am in here

Find me in pink

The race was pretty crowded initially, especially because the half and full start together, but I kept the pacer's sign in my sights and by a couple of miles in, our distinct OTQ-chasing group had formed.  The group was huge, and I stuck to my plan of running in the back of it, which I thought would be best for drafting, navigating the aid stations, and just letting the group pull me along.  The pace didn't feel as easy as it had felt in Indy, but I've had all kind of combinations of feel bad/run fast, feel good/run slow, etc., so I didn't worry.  I never worried during this race, and I guess it is because I had it in my head that I was going to either maintain OTQ pace drop; no in between.  Although I knew I had bronchitis, I never thought about it.

The pace group

Probably the only time Ryan Hall
will take a photo of the group I'm
running with

The early miles flew by and I loved being part of the pack.  From my spot in the middle back I could see almost everything that was happening within the pack.  Around mile 5, three women in different parts of the pack fell (maybe from potholes or manhole covers?), and the women around them checked on and encouraged them tirelessly.  They all got up and kept moving.  In that shuffle, another woman's bib number was torn off, and a woman behind her picked it up and the whole pack helped find out who it belonged to and passed it back up to her.  At every aid station, those closest to the cups would grab fluids and then share with the other women around them - although I now apologize to anyone I shared with!  I've been in OTQ-attempt packs before, but never so large, and never as special as this one; these were the women who would not give up, who were fighting until the bitter end to get the standard.  Everyone in the pack knew what it was like to try for it and come up short.

I just love these group shots

Before the race in addition to DNFing I'd also considered that I could turn off with the half marathoners if I knew I couldn't make the full.  When the half split off around mile 7, I was getting into a groove and thinking there was actually a chance for me in the full.  I told myself the power of the pack would pull me along.

My optimism lasted until about mile 10, when I fell off the pack.  I tried my best to hang on, but I physically couldn't any more.  The group pulled ahead of me and as I watched the gap widen, I knew that my dream was fading away.  I teared up.  It was truly over for 2020.

I decided I'd run to the half timing mat so my husband and dad would get my time and know that I was off pace and would be dropping.  A bit before mile 12, my friend Laura passed me.  I fought back tears when she asked if I was okay, and I told her I was too sick to do it and that I was going to drop out.  She told me her husband was just ahead and she'd take me to him so he could drive me back to the finish line.  I'd thought that was the option I'd want, but I found myself unable to step off the course; I thanked them and told them I was going to keep going.

I'm not completely sure why I couldn't bring myself to stop; I had truly planned to and my lungs sounded like those of an overweight smoker with COPD, but I just kept running.  I thought maybe I'd run to mile 15 or 16, depending on when I saw a medical tent.  26.2 miles isn't intimidating to me at this point; 26.2 mile at a fast pace is, but not the distance itself. 

Around mile 15 I spotted Ashley up ahead.  I met her before Indy when we were both chasing the OTQ there, and we'd kept in touch on social media.  I was sorry to see her because of what that meant for her goal, but I was also thinking that sometimes God gives us storms in our lives to help others through theirs, so she and I could help each other through the last 11 miles of this non-ideal marathon.  We fell into stride together and chatted for the next several miles.  Connecting with her at that point really lifted my spirits.  We were nowhere near the pace we'd trained for, but we were blessed to be out there running.

Ashley stopped at a bathroom around mile 20, and at that point I figured I might as well finish.  I hadn't looked at my watch the entire race - when I was with the pace group I'd just stayed with them, and after I fell off I'd just been jogging.  I had some hesitancy about finishing over 3 hours, because I haven't run a marathon over 3:00 since the first time I broke 3:00, but my inner voice saying, "Who cares if you don't break 3:00?  No one cares!!" won, and I decided I wasn't going to drop out when I physically could finish.

There are legitimate reasons to drop out of race, and I respect that when runners make that choice it's the right choice for them.  There are races that I should have DNFed (ahem, Indy Women's 2018), and ended up super injured by not dropping.  In general I think if you're going to cause an injury to get much worse or risk causing any long term damage to your body, you should drop.  In this situation I knew I'd make myself more sick, but I didn't think there was a risk beyond that and physically I knew I could finish at a slower pace.  Most of all, I wanted to continue.  If the Trials window had been open a few more weeks and I could take another shot, I may have stopped, but I thought dropping would be very simple and it was not!

When I saw the mile 24 course clock, I had a brief pity party a la "I should be finishing right now" followed by "wait, I can still go sub-3:00 if I run 7:30 or under for these final 2.2 miles".  Within the last 2 miles, I heard numerous spectators yelling for the sub-3:00 runners.  I saw plenty of elated runners around me realizing they were going to go sub-3:00.  I picked it up some to make sure, and I crossed the finish line in 2:58:35, for my 10th consecutive sub-3:00, which was definitely more than I'd expected during the second half of the race.  My dad's video of the finish is here.

Finish shot - half marathoners on the left

As I walked through the finish chute, it felt like everyone around me was celebrating their sub-3's.  People kept asking everyone, "Did you go sub-3?  I went sub-3!!!"  The floodgates of my tears opened, and I'm not sure if others thought I was crying because I was happy about breaking 3 or what, but I kept answering, "Yes, I did" and congratulating the excited sub-3 runners all around.  It did give me perspective, though - because three years ago my PR was 2:58:53 and I'd teared up from happiness when I ran that.

The finish chute seemed long because I knew it truly was the end.  There would be no "try again" for 2020.  I didn't do it.  I didn't do it at Houston because of illness.  I didn't do it at CIM because I missed the race due to a death.  I didn't do it at Indy because the wind.  I didn't do it before then because I was never truly fit enough before Indy; I was close so I tried anyway though.  This goal that I'd thought of every day for almost 3 years was not accomplished and never could be.

You could say the marathon has broken my heart, but also that running gives me more than I ever deserve.  I'm not sure I'd make it through the stress of life without it, and the friendships it's given me are worth the world.  Being able to do this thing I love every day is such a blessing.  Being close enough to the OTQ time that it was a realistic goal was such a blessing.  I am so thankful God gave me this passion.  He has different plans for me on February 29, and I trust that - but I think it's okay to be disappointed.

At the same time, I wouldn't take back any of the training I've done.  It's disappointing that it didn't result in a marathon time fast enough for the USATF, but the process brought me so much joy that it feels silly to be too upset.  Not every dream is meant to be realized, but every dream serves a purpose.

"God is within her, she will not fall." - Psalm 46:5

Read my post about the last-minute OTQ chasers here.
See the pre-race mention of the 2:45 pace group in the Fast Women Newsletter here.
Read the Runners World article about the 2:45 pace group here.

Recaps from my other four attempts:
CIM 2017
Houston 2018
Grandma's 2019
Indy Monumental 2019