After I decided that my stress fracture was healed, and I ran two half-marathons and a full marathon on it, I felt like I was finally going to be able to run. Not so fast, my leg said. I had already signed up for the Utah Valley Marathon because it is a fast course and really pretty. So, with my leg not cooperating totally, I had to drop the speed workouts that were causing me pain, and just focus on getting my miles in as painlessly as possible. This meant that I was running my training runs at a much slower pace that I had planned. I had really been hoping to PR at Utah Valley this year, but realized that it was not going to happen, and I should just do what I could to run the 26 miles.
I didn't really know what to expect with my time... I was hoping to finish under 4 (fingers crossed), but realistically I knew it could be up to 4:15-4:20 if the leg was acting up, or even longer if I encountered other problems like IT band issues or GI issues that I have had at other races.
I woke up at 2:30am to get to the buses early because I usually freak out before a race and I only start to feel calm when I am actually sitting on the bus or standing at the start line. Luckily for my anxiety, I was on one of the first buses to the start line up in Wallsburg. The course was a little different than the last time I ran it, but I was excited that the weather looked nice and we were starting early enough that it wouldn't be too hot by the time we finished.
Once we started, the slight downhill felt really good. As we ran down Provo Canyon, I was a little ahead of my anticipated race pace, but I felt so good, that I just tried to go with it. I passed a couple of friends, but slowed down to chat a little. I met some really nice people and we all seemed to be having a good race...until the winds hit. Usually, the wind blows down the canyon, but for some reason, we were getting a pretty strong headwind. I figured with that and the uphill sections of the course that I would probably finish behind my 4-hour goal. My quads were angry with me at mile 17, which did not bode well for the rest of my race.
About mile 20, I was done. I did not want to run anymore. Nothing really felt awful, but I was just mentally done. I checked my watch and realized that if I could gut it out for 6 more miles, I could be close to a PR. This perked me up, and I tried to pick up my pace. It wasn't speedy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was steady. It was a straight shot to the finish line, and I could see it, but it looked like it kept moving farther and farther away from me. The last two miles seemed like the longest ever...but eventually I made it... in 3:54.
And Scott was there. He got up early to be there to support my crazy running hobby. It meant so much to me to see him there, cheering with a bright pink poster, just when I needed it for a final kick to the finish line.
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