Any of you who have been following my blog at Operation Jack know my wife, Tiffany, ran her first marathon Sunday and that I ran it with her. I was going to write a race report about the race as my blog for today, but my friend Erin Ruff suggested Tiff write the race report. I’m going to get the best of both worlds with a he said/she said take on the race.
Sam Says:
Long Beach has always been a pretty good course for me. I ran a 17-minute PR my first time there, I ran my first Boston qualifier the next year, and ran a 3:06 last year with a bad hamstring. Three races, all were great. I was hopeful that Tiff could have a good experience out there, too.
She really wanted to run a 3:40 and qualify for Boston. That’s kind of an ambitious goal for a marathon debut, but I thought it was on the edge of what was possible. She ran a 1:45 half marathon in January, and has battled injuries since then, but I think she’s a little bit faster than she was back then. Tiff’s spring was filled with great long runs. She ramped up the distance and held sub-9 paces on long, hilly runs stretching to 20 miles — a great job for somebody looking for a 3:40.
But she got hurt, battled issues with inflammation in her right leg and missed her first shot at a marathon — San Diego Rock N Roll on May 31. The inflammation was off and on over the summer, but the speed was there. She ran a hilly 17-miler in late July at an 8:42 pace, a decent run.
Heading into Sunday’s race, I was concerned about her inflammation and her endurance. Her longest run was 20, which she had done only once, and that was six months ago. We went out for a 20 two weeks ago, but we cut it short to 10 because her inflammation was bothering her. She told me it was something she thought she could run through, but she didn’t think it was worth aggravating. I thought we’d go in, I’d keep her in range for 16-18 miles, and then we’d see how her cardio held up. I planned on monitoring her effort and heart rate, doing the math on the time in my head, and making a decision somewhere after 20 on when to turn it up.
When the race started, she seemed right on the edge of her 3:40 goal, but once we settled in, I knew by about 5 or 6 miles in that she was going to probably on the outside looking in. Still, I thought she would probably have a good chance at running a 3:45, which would a) be one heck of a marathon debut, and b) qualify her for Boston 2011 (she’ll be 35 for that one). Maybe not the time she was looking for, but she’d be flat-out in for the Boston Marathon in 2011. Can’t argue with that.
She was complaining that I was running her too slow, but I tried over and over to explain that if 3:45 was the best she could do and she tried to run a 3:40, she’d blow up, fatigue early and run 30 minutes slow. I’ve run 26 marathons now, so I’ve made plenty of mistakes that she doesn’t need to repeat! She kept ticking the miles off perfectly. She wasn’t too talkative, but that was OK. We weren’t out there for conversation — we were out there to rip through a marathon.
And then, it started. The inflammation flared up, somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 or so. I thought she’d fight through it, and she told me a few minutes later that it was starting to feel better. But then about a mile or two later, the inflammation kicked in for good, and the downhill spiral began. I didn’t let her worry about her time — I just tried to keep her rolling. I know how important her time was to her, so I was just trying to push her in any way possible.
She slowed down a little, but then she slowed down a lot. Her slow run turned into a shuffle, then some walking and it was obvious she was in a lot of pain. I didn’t know what to say or do to try to motivate her. I ran out of buttons to push, and I was wondering if she was in pain or if she was going soft. I don’t care what time she runs, but I want her to look back on her effort fondly. Only she would know if she was really going all-out, and I thought she probably was. But I just wasn’t sure, and I’ve never been involved a breakdown this epic or a race this slow. I really didn’t know what to do out there, so I just stayed with her and tried to keep her rolling. I’ll be honest — I got a little frustrated with her and I let her know that. I just wanted her to give it her all. In hindsight, I hope I wasn’t being too much of a jerk.
She picked it up a little bit over the last 1.25 miles, but despite having a reasonable chance at 3:45 at around 17 or 18, she finished in 4:22:41. At least she beat my time on Sunday by one second! Apparently, I ran a 4:22:42! The way she struggled yesterday, I don’t think she’ll ever run another marathon. But I know she toughed it out through a lot of pain. I’m proud of her effort. Her training was tough and her race was tough. I just hope she realizes what she did is incredibly difficult. Even though they look like they come pretty easy to me, every time I run them, I think to myself about how difficult they really are. They’re hard. They’re challenging. And really, out of my 26, I’d say that maybe three have gone the way I want them to.
So yeah, I’m proud of her. That’s my take.
Before.
During.
After.
Tiff Says:
On the morning of the marathon I was more excited than nervous because I felt so blessed that I even was able to make it to the starting line! Honestly, I thought that I would have a fair crack at the 3:40 goal. I told myself I wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t get that time but I’d still be happy if I finished sub-4. At the starting line, I was a little nervous, but not that much. Still, I was just happy to be standing there. I told myself that if I just stayed calm and relaxed, that would help me during my run. I guess some of it’s psychological. I told myself that I was just gonna go out there and run two half-marathons … that made me feel better than thinking it was a full!
As soon as the gun went off, me, Sam and our friend Ben were fired up to go. Sam told me to tell him every few minutes or so what my heart rate was and that if it went above 175, to let him know so we could slow down. He didn’t want me to overdo my cardio early into the race because then I’d burn out fast. My heart rate stayed a touch higher than I wanted it to. For about 16 miles it ranged mostly around the 173-177 area. At around 12 miles I was starting to think that my chances of my 3:40 were slim-to-none. Once I saw the 3:40 pace drift out of sight at around mile 15, I knew that I needed to shoot for a sub 4 goal.
At around mile 17, my inflammation started hurting a lot. I felt a lot of sharp shooting pains in my ankle, achilles and right off my shin. Sam warned me not to stop and walk even for a few steps because if I did, my legs would stiffen up and it would be hard to start running after that. Well, that’s easier said than done. The pain was unbearable in my ankle and I had to walk. What a huge mistake that was! Right after the first walk is when I spiraled downhill. My whole body was in pain. I could barely lift my feet up off the ground to run again. My jogging turned into a shuffle that turned into a walk again. From that point on, it was shuffling, walking, shuffling, walking (with some whimpering as well).
I couldn’t believe that I was in the same body I had started the race in. I felt like I was in a body that had never run before. Everything for about eight miles was a complete blur/nightmare. I wanted to practice mind-over-matter but was unsuccessful. All I wanted to do was get to the finish line, then go home and lay down.
Once I crossed the finish line, I thought to myself, NEVER AGAIN! From now on, I’ll just work on half marathons. I was disappointed in myself as well. I thought, “how did this happen when my training runs were so promising?” I realized then that maybe, probably, I would’ve run a better race if not for the inflammation. I know it sounds like I’m making excuses, but I think that had something to do with it. And I should’ve never started walking!
After swearing to never doing it again, the next morning I woke up thinking to myself that I should train for another one next year … probably the Long Beach one since I really enjoyed the course. Surprisingly enough, it’s not my time that upset me the most. What upset me the most is the fact that after putting in so much time and effort in training, it wasn’t fair that I was left with such a miserable memory of my marathon. Next year, I’m going to make sure I go into the race completely healthy. I know marathons aren’t supposed to be easy, but they should at least be fun, in a weird sort of way.
That’s It!
Thanks for reading!
Ben Delaney says
Tiff, you looked great for the first 11 miles. As much as I really wanted to stay out there with you and Sam, I told Jo that I would be home by a certain time. If I ran the full, that wasn’t going to happen and I already scared the heck out of her twice last year during my own marathon ‘adventures’.
Get healthy and stay focused. You know you can conquer this feat. Great job Tiffers.
Eric Raines says
You finished and that in itself is a great accomplisment. As long as you know you did the best you could under the circumstances. Plus, you learned a valuable lesson about when it’s time to slow it down and push through it.
I’m sure you’ll do another one, and do it better. As the old proverb says… fall down seven times, stand up eight.
Denise Mayo says
I’m so proud of your for making it to the finish line !!!! Good job, Tiff.
Zach Earl says
Tiff, I know exactly how you feel… it’s how I felt after my first marathon (LA ’08). I had put in a lot of time, energy, miles, blood, sweat, and tears in the training and had great hopes for a 3:40 times myself. I finished in 4:33. After a couple months off, I got refocused, and put renewed effort into my training, making some big changes. My reward? I finished my next marathon (LB ’08) under 3:40 (3:37)! cutting almost an hour off my previous time!! So yes, it can be discouraging, but don’t give up! It will make the next race that much more important. 🙂
Ally Phillips says
As my first marathon looms on the horizon on November 22nd, I can relate 100% to the injury part, as I ran (and raced) through an overused IT band over the summer (stupid), and going into something 100% healthy makes all the difference. I ran an easy 15k the other weekend and I didn’t PR or even come close (I’ve gotten really slow since the injury), but, I had a great time running with a friend and just racing injury free for the first time in months.
Congrats on your first marathon, Tiff, finishing is a huge accomplishment!!!
Erin Fortin says
Tiff, I feel the EXACT same way about my first marathon experience! Yeah, I was proud and ecstatic that I ran my first marathon, but I’m honestly bummed that all that hard work and effort leading up to the marathon (I’ve been a long distance runner since my first XC season in 7th grade), amounted to nothing when my knee started giving out. I had to walk for more than I care to admit for those last 6 miles. I just can’t wait to get out there and have another shot at it. Once my dang knee stops hurting me… Till then, though, I know we both need to fully recover in order to tackle a new 26.2 🙂 Best of luck!
Lori Liu says
Sorry this is so belated, but Tiff — congratulations on finishing your marathon! I’m so proud of you…and I know you’ll be back for revenge soon. My first marathon was AWFUL and I swore that I’d never do one ever again. But they get better (although, there are still some that completely and utterly suck). I’m glad you had Sam there with you…although maybe for your next one, you should fire him and hire me — I’m much more nurturing, haha.
Rest up, get healthy, and congratulations, Mrs. 26.2!
Sam — it was great to see you again. Glad you were able to run w/ Tiff on her first one. Keep PCT50 in the back of your head, ok? OR, there’s a PCTR 50k that same weekend. Think about it. And I’ll let you know my schedule once I find out, ok?