Last Sunday I ran the Virginia Beach Marathon, my sixth marathon and second attempt at breaking three hours. I’m in the best shape of my life thanks to completing the best training block of my running career. However, I finished just under 3:05—barely a PR, but I wanted more. I wanted the race clock to read 2:59:59 or below when I crossed the finish line. I didn’t train for a slight PR—I trained for a big 6-minute PR using the Pfitzinger 12 week/55-70 mile plan.
There are a lot of important choices to make for any race, and a marathon in particular—the course, training plan, racing strategy, fueling plan—to name just a few. Despite using different Pfitzinger plans and speed work paces for each of my past three marathon training blocks, I’ve finished each around the 3:05 mark. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, but what is trying different things and getting the same result?
Yes, a marathon result is determined by more than just a training block. It’s also about smart pacing, proper nutrition and hydration, tapering, and the right state of mind. I feel I had all those elements covered, so how’d I only trim less than a minute from my PR?
Mental and physical block
The marathon is a mental battle the first 20 miles, until it becomes a physical battle the last 10K. And I sure experienced a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions running through the bustling Virginia Beach streets, boardwalk, and Fort Story Army base. I went from unsure if I would reach my goal, to not thinking I would, then to thinking I was going to accomplish the feat, to finally accepting my fate at mile 21. Whenever doubt crept into my mind, I shut it down—choosing to not let that be the narrative. I decided I simply wouldn’t allow it—until I no longer had a choice.
No matter the mantra I used (“this too, shall pass,” “one more mile,” and “just keep going”), my mindset, nor how many times I tried to dig deep for that extra burst of energy, nothing could help me overcome hitting the marathon wall yet again. The constant headwinds, rising temperatures in the 60s, and desolate stretches on the back half of the course didn’t help, but there are no excuses. I must be able to adapt better. You can’t choose race day weather, but you can choose to prepare for it by training in a variety of conditions.
Too little, too late
Last fall, I was unsure if I would break three hours in my first attempt in D.C. This time I was certain I would. In the week leading up to the race, there was no doubt in my mind I would run under three hours. Honestly, all throughout my 3+-month training block, I was confident. Don’t get me wrong, my belief was backed by cautious optimism, not arrogance or overconfidence. I know full well to never underestimate the marathon. There are too many variables to account for and any number of things can go wrong during the 26.2 miles.
So, when my pace dropped from my target 6:50/mile average, to over 7 minutes for the first time at mile 21, my heart sank. I couldn’t believe my journey stopped there, with a whole 5.2 miles remaining and not enough energy left in the tank.
Marathon training is always tough; it’s extremely time-consuming, mentally and physically exhausting, and immensely frustrating at times. And when you train for over 100 days in the winter cold six days a week with tough speed workouts and multiple long runs each week, you expect a big payoff, not just a small PR, nearly five minutes over your goal.
Choices, choices
While disappointed on race day, akin to grief, the true sadness didn’t hit me until later. When you fail to reach your marathon goal, it can feel like a type of grieving or heartbreak. Because you enter a kind of relationship committing to marathon training. And like any relationship worth a damn, it’s filled with sacrifices, hard work, and trust. Trust that your sacrifices and hard work pay off. And when the training is over and race day has come and gone, all your left with is a finish time and memory. You can feel like you deserved more from the relationship.
After awaking from a much-needed recovery nap the day after the Virginia Beach Marathon, I was overcome with a wave of sadness that culminated in tears. It was only after taking time to reflect more on all the training that went into this block and the emotional, mental, and physical energy expended, it hit me. The following day, I unexpectedly awoke two hours before my alarm, my mind racing about all the choices I made. Did I not hydrate enough before or during the marathon? Perhaps I started out too strong in the first half? Did I overtrain? Undertrain? Maybe I need to be mentally tougher in the last 6.2 miles?
I don’t have the answers for why I failed. I likely won’t until I reach my goal. But, at the risk of sounding cheesy, similar to the cliché about life, the marathon is about the journey, not the destination. Over the past several months, I’ve trained hard to toe the starting line and I don’t take any of it for granted. None of it. It hasn’t been easy. It never is. And I love all of it. Every last mile. Ok, not every mile. Many miles suck.
The only choice
Before race day, I acknowledged, in coping with my anxiety and fears, regardless of whether I reached my goal, my life wouldn’t change. I still believe that. And, I still recognize how truly grateful I am to be healthy and even be able to run a marathon. Gratitude is a hell of a drug!
As the days pass, the more I’m at peace with my performance. But accepting my performance doesn’t mean I’m content with it. Two days after the Virginia Beach Marathon I already started searching for my next one. It’s back to the drawing board to see if I can’t devise a better plan to destroy the sub-three-hour barrier. Because each disappointment is merely a stepping stone to an achievement.
Besides, the most important choice was made years ago when I registered for my first marathon. Throughout my nearly two-decade running journey, with hard work and determination, I’ve consistently surprised myself with what I’m capable of. And it’s been my marathon training over the years that instilled in me the work ethic and confidence to create The Size 15 Runner Blog and Podcast. And I’m confident it’ll be that same grit that eventually carries me over the finish line under three hours. I just have to wait longer and work harder than expected. Until that day, I’ll learn from my performance and train even better and smarter. Because what other choice do I have?
