Sunburst a Bust

This is the tale of another running fail.  

Apparently, 2016 is NOT my year for marathoning, but I am confident that these experiences are making me a stronger runner and person.  Cliche, but true!

The Boston Marathon Bust was back in April.  Phil and my parents all encouraged me to do another race while I was in marathon shape, but that seemed ludicrous at first.  Initially, I didn't even want to think about it.  Boston was too fresh, and my pride was still bruised.  A few weeks after recovering from that, I screwed my head back on and laced my shoes back up.  I decided to register for another marathon with the goal of re-qualifying for Boston.  I knew I was trained and ready, and I actually wanted to RUN a race and make all the training worth it.

SO...I flew up to South Bend, Indiana for the Sunburst Marathon on June 4th.

All the stars seemed to be aligned.  

My parents were able to join me for the weekend.  Phil was able to stay home with the kids without taking any days off.  The weather cooperated.  My body was healthy.  I had my own bed in a quiet room.  The perfect equation for running success.

(I actually just found the picture of the start line, and I am directly under the "ST" of the start sign.  You can see me in my pink tank if you enlarge the picture.)

Running jargon ahead...skip to the bottom if you don't care about times and numbers.

Officially, I need to run an average mile pace of 8:23 per mile to qualify for Boston.

However, Boston qualifications keep getting faster, and they have turned away qualifying times because the field is too large.  SO, with that in mind, I really need to run an average pace of 8:12/mile.  I can do that.  I have done that.  I trained for that.  I hit the ten mile mark at 1:09:56...just under 8:00 minute miles.  On pace and feeling good.  There were a few quirks about the race (like running through a tiny zoo where birds were dive bombing runners, lots of switchbacks and s-curves, etc.), but you overlook that because you have no other option.  Things fell apart between the 10-11 mile mark.  My GPS watch read 11.42 miles at the 11-mile mark, and I heard other runners remarking on the miscalculated distance of the course.  When you're in the middle of racing, however, there isn't much you can do.  You just hope that the distance gets made up for in the next mile.  Usually everything evens out.

At this point, the race was mixed with 10K runners, half-marathoners, and full-marathoners.  The infamous hill of the Sunburst Marathon (Hallelujah Hill) was around the 12-mile mark, and I knew the marathon was supposed to split from the rest of the runners somewhere around there.  I kept looking for it.  I am OCD when it comes to running, distances, times, etc.  I was vigilant about watching the course.  After charging up Hallelujah Hill, and seeing the 13-mile marker, I knew that something was wrong.  I stopped running (a total derailment of any race strategy) and asked a race official where the marathon split was.  He told me that it was at least 1.5 miles in the other direction, and I had totally missed it.  I just stood there.  Frozen.  At that point, my race was over.  I wasn't going to turn around just to finish a marathon with THREE EXTRA MILES.  No thanks.  I ended up finishing the half-marathon and feeling completely discouraged and frustrated.  How could I have missed it?  What on earth went wrong?  I had to borrow a stranger's phone to call my parents who were waiting for me at the 14-mile mark.  There was nothing positive to be said.  My mom (who is always positive, encouraging, and able to see the sun through the clouds) tried to play Pollyanna and find the silver-lining.  I wasn't ready for that.  I called Phil, who was anxiously awaiting good news in FL, and immediately broke down.  Yep, I cried about a failed race.  But, it wasn't just this race.  This was my second failed race.  It was the giant question of, "WHAT ON EARTH?!"  It was the months of what felt like wasted training.  The list goes on and on. 

I showered, packed up, and left the hotel around the same time that I should have been crossing the finish line with another Boston-Qualifying time.  There was a lot of processing on the drive from South Bend to Grand Rapids.  

Grand Rapids was my silver-lining.

My niece, Mavis Marie, was born in Grand Rapids less than 24-hours prior.  I was able to spend time with her, and Brian and Marcie, that I would otherwise have spent running.  I was able to hold a newborn and soak up some quality time with them before flying back to Florida.

Follow-up:

About one week after the race, I (and the other 7,000 runners) 

received an email from the race director.

Here's the gist:

- There was insignificant signage and communication in the race.  Several people missed the marathon turn and got turned around in the race.

- The course was mis-measured, and it was 0.4 miles too long.  That was exactly what my GPS watch showed between miles 10-11.  While this seems completely INSIGNIFICANT, it is the difference between qualifying and not qualifying.  For me, 0.4 miles is roughly 3.5 - 4 minutes.  I don't have that much wiggle room in my qualifying time, and that extra distance would have likely prevented me from qualifying.  SO, missing the turn might have saved me further disappointment.

- I got a full refund or the chance to run it again next year for free.

- I took the refund.  :)
- I know that this experience is a silly hiccup in the big picture of life.  I get that!  I have a healthy dose of perspective, but I still wanted to document this for my own sake.

Anyhow, I am confident that there will be another chapter to this story.  It won't be anytime soon since I'm in a training hiatus, but there will be running redemption in my future.

Rewind to May

 Blogging...

I wish I made more time for this. 

I look back on the first few years of my regular blogging, and I am so thankful for the chronicles that we have of those years.  I remember a friend saying that the birth of her third child was the death of her blog, and I thought to myself, Oh...that won't be me.  I will keep blogging on a regular basis. Well, here I sit, many months since my last blog, and there are just too many things to cover.

A few highlights from May:

Mother/Son Bowling Night with New Hope Church.  

Isaac and I had a blast, and I find my middle munchkin being sweeter and sweeter with age.  He truly is the most tender five year old I've ever known, and he is guaranteed to melt your heart.

Mother's Day was thrown in there somewhere, and it was a delight.  Phil treated me to the annual pampering of a spotlessly clean bathroom.  I request this every year.  I look forward to it.  I relish in it.  Top to bottom clean.  Every nook and cranny clean.  Phil-level (those of you who know him know exactly what that means) clean. 

Mother's Day Tea with Isaac at New Hope United Methodist Preschool

Koda the sloth:

This baby sloth was born in March, and we got to snuggle with him a number of times.  Phil took a few rotations of bringing him home (feeding every two hours around the clock isn't as dreamy as it sounds), and the kids LOVED it!!!

Myles was enamored with Koda.  

Myles is enamored with every living creature and anything else in which Phil shows interest.

Isaac was on America's Most Injured List:

He got nailed in the head with a swing (picture below), he lost an entire toenail on a ride at Adventure Island, and there were a few other incidents thrown in the mix.  Can you say Aflac Accident Insurance? Oh, we can.  We did!

We celebrated the beautiful baptism of Hannah Marie: 

Hannah is our sweet god-daughter.  We love all of our four godchildren, but I have a special place for little Hannah.  I get to spend every Monday and Friday with her now, and she is just the sweetest little thing.  More on that later.  Although at the rate I'm blogging, that might not be until 2018.

These Three...

So much to say.

For now, three words for each of them:

Clare - Thoughtful, Helpful, Perceptive

Isaac - Tender, Sensitive, Goofy (think Minions 24/7)

Myles - Energetic, Cuddly, Bright

Raising a Daughter:

I keep hearing horror stories of raising daughters.  I was recently warned that there will likely be a three-year stretch where I will want to send her away.  I look at my newly 8-year-old and think this cannot be possible for us.  We will be different.  Is that the same naive thinking I held about continuing my blogging streak?  I will not let this be a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Rather, I have found myself delighting in my daughter more than ever.  I am building a firm foundation with her so that when those years arrive, we will have a solid base.  I pray this works!

The Life Care 5K and Fun Run:

It has been my honor to serve on the committee for this event the past two years, and I loved watching my entire family participate this year.

Enough for now.

Don't want to go crazy on my return to the blogosphere.

Boston Reflections

The Boston Marathon was well over a month ago already.  While it is still very fresh in my mind, some of the trauma has worn off and I'm able to reflect on the weekend with a positive attitude.

We flew to Boston on Friday, April 15th.  Everyone was excited.  I felt overwhelmingly supported and encouraged (BOSTON cream donuts from my dear friend, Jessica...a sweet card and encouragement from my friend, Chrystal, who had listened to my training woes for months...Peanut Butter M&M's (my favorite) and a thoughtful card from my friend, Barb) prior to leaving.

 Training was done.

Carb-loading was in full swing.

I was READY!

Everything was smooth sailing until...

 Isaac came down with something nasty!

He had no appetite.

He couldn't stay awake.

He complained that his tummy hurt.

He looked green and SICK!

While Isaac slept for almost the entire day, 

the rest of the gang was all smiles.

My parents graciously stayed back with the kiddos while we went into Boston on Friday evening.  

We went to the race expo...

...found my name on the wall of runners 

(the only Hillary out of 30,000+ names)...

...and then went out for a delicious dinner!!!

The wee ones were snug as a bug when we returned, and Day One was a success!

(I can't get over how much Myles looks like Isaac in the picture below.)

Day Two was full of fun adventures and outings!

There was an awesome park right next to our hotel, 

and we spent many hours there over the weekend.

The weather was refreshingly cool...

a VERY nice break from Florida!

One of the highlights of Saturday was going to the Boston Children's Museum.  Not only was it an awesome children's museum, but we met up with some of best buddies there.  The Rickenbachs were also in Boston for the weekend, and Isaac was thrilled to spend the afternoon with his very best buddy, Kyler.

And I got to spend the afternoon with Kyler's mommy...one of my very best buddies.

Another highlight of the weekend was connecting with my great aunt and uncle, John and Elizabeth Sherrill.  They wrote "The Hiding Place" with Corrie Ten Boom (the beautiful woman after whom I was named), and we shared some special stories and memories.  This golden star was what Jews had to wear to be identified during WWII, and Corrie's family kept many Jews safe in their secret room. Amazing piece of history.

Sunday was a pretty low key day. 

We went into the city to check out the finish line area.  We enjoyed the beautiful weather.  Phil and my mom took the kids to the Boston Aquarium, and I took a nap.  That should have been my first clue that something was amiss.
I never, ever, ever take naps.

We were up early on Monday morning...race day.  Sleep is never sound the night before a race, and I was up long before my alarm.  I found myself using the bathroom WAY MORE than normal, and I tried to pass it off as pre-race jitters.  When I was unable to eat my standard pre-race breakfast, I knew something was wrong.  Pairing that with Isaac being sick, feeling the need for a nap on Sunday, and using the bathroom multiple times that morning, I knew I was way off my game.

Phil brought me into Boston Common where I got in line for the bus ride to Hopkinton.  You can only get a small sense of the enormity of it all, but it was a massive undertaking.  They had to bus 30,000 runners to the starting line that was over 30 miles away.  My dad told me to find a friend on the bus, and Shanna was one of the highlights of my day.  We sat together for the hour long bus ride and discovered so many things that we had in common...the craziest being that her husband graduated from the same high school that I did.

Anyhow...it all goes south after that!

My wave didn't start until 10:50 am.  It was already warm and humid by that time, and my body was completely empty.  I hadn't been able to keep anything down, and I knew I was dehydrated before it even began.  The first seven miles were tolerable, but that was thanks to them being all downhill.  From that point on, I was in trouble.  I kept having to stop and use the bathroom, I was completely dehydrated from all of the "evacuations," and I just didn't think it was going to be possible to endure another 19 miles.

I saw my sweet family, all clad in orange, at the 16-mile mark, and I just wanted to join them.  Walk right off the course and call it a day.  I will never forget Clare's sweet voice saying, "Just come home with us, Mama.  You don't need to run any further."  While that is exactly what I wanted to do, I also heard my encouraging husband's voice saying, "We don't care if it takes you ALL day.  We will see you at the finish line."  I knew that I had to finish.  I knew that it was going to be brutal, slow, humbling, and painful, but I HAD TO FINISH!!!

There were several tender moments of the race that I try and push to the forefront of my memory.  I will never forget this girl, Jill, who put her hand on my shoulder (while I was hunched over and walking) and said, "Do you think you can run with me for a minute?"  She stepped out of her own race to encourage me.  She slowed her pace to run next to me.  She asked me questions in efforts to take my mind of my pain.  She was such a sweet blessing and encouragement.  There was another moment where I saw a little girl, about Clare's age, who was passing out roses.  Very few people wanted to sidestep their race to grab a rose, but it was another ray of sunshine for me.  I carried that rose for over two miles until I could hand it to Clare. 

My amazing orange crew encouraged me even when I couldn't see them.  I knew that they were out there.  I knew that they were waiting for me to run (or hobble) past them, and that kept me going. 

My littlest cheerleader was a trooper through all of the train rides, large crowds, and unpredictable schedules of the day.

My other cheerleaders were the fabulous Rickenbachs.  Oh my goodness!  I don't even know what to say.  Jessica stood 1/2 mile from the finish line for the ENTIRE DAY.  She was there before the elite runners came through, and then she waited for me.  And waited.  And waited.  And waited.  I told her that I would likely be at the finish between 2:15 and 2:30, but it was well after that.  Well after!  But let me tell you...seeing their faces as I rounded the corner to the finish was such a boost.  It brought tears to my eyes to think that my friend waited all day to ENCOURAGE ME!  

Thank you!  It meant more than you will ever know!   

Rather than go into detail about the absolute breakdown of the mind and body, I will focus on the beauty of FINISHING!  It certainly wasn't anywhere near the time that I had hoped (in fact, it was almost 1.5 longer than that), and it wasn't the Boston experience that I had heard everyone talking about, but I finished.  I got to wear my medal and finisher's jacket because I endured through every mile and finished that beast!

Another special highlight was reconnecting with a college friend, Elizabeth, after the race.  Even though we hadn't seen each other since 2003, it was such a neat way to reconnect.

Once the race was over, I had a lot of processing to do, but I was still too sick to do anything but sleep.  I hardly ate for the next three days, and my body was in total recovery mode.

My legs are usually quite sore for about four days after a big race.  Little did I know that my legs were going to be the least of my concerns after Boston.  After being outside for an entire day, I incurred the worst sunburn of my life. 

I know...

SHAME ON ME!!!

This special souvenir from race day lasted quite a while, 

but it was another valuable lesson from the day.

So now, six weeks later, I am actually excited to consider Boston again.  Granted, I have to re-qualify, but I just have to believe that there is another Boston in my future.  I have to believe that my future races will be stronger for having endured that one.  And it will be pretty awesome to say that I PR'd by 80+ minutes when I do it again!  :)