I first laid eyes on the Vancouver Marathon back in 2014. I initially signed up to the race to complete once, to tick off as a bucket list item and to say ‘I have ran a marathon’. Yet, I’ve found myself towing the start line of this race year after year. I absolutely love the course, the city and most importantly it’s incredible people & their amazing vibes. However, as I sit here writing this I’m very much debating whether I’ll be returning next year and it kind of hurts my heart.
Last year during 2018’s race my goal was to nail sub 4:00:00. I’d progressively gotten faster since that first race back in 2014 and I knew I had it in me to achieve my then, lofty goal. When I crossed the finish line strong, smiling and with a 26 minute Personal Best; 3:45:15 I knew I had more to give. I was excited as ever for the next year to roll around so I could aim higher, go faster, qualify for Boston and get on the other side of 3:30:00. 2019 was going to be my year and I was not afraid to show it!
I aimed for it, I trained for it and deep down I truly believed I would achieve it. I even had butterflies in my stomach that I would see digits in the 20’s appear on the clock. I was confidently fantasizing and it felt good. 365 days came and went, the year rolled around and the race was here.
As I crossed the finish line with the clock reading ‘3:49:06’ I actually wanted the ground to swallow me up hole. I wasn’t just 1 or 2 minutes off my goal, not even 5, I was a solid 19 minutes away from it. I ‘embarrassingly’ received my medal from John Stanton (who I swear looked deep into my soul & knew how I felt) and I staggered over to the edge of the rails where I had a full blown break down, tears rolled down my cheeks and I was choking on my words.
WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!
My strategy going into this race was to run 4:55-5:05 per km and if I felt strong for the last third of the race I would push hard. I’d pop a gel every 20 minutes or so and I’d make sure to stay hydrated at every aid station. So when the race started and the crowd of runners began why did I feel it necessary to pace 4:35’s and sustain it on & off for 22km’s?!?!
Side note: My half PB is 01:41:20 and when I finish that distance I’m spent, so I knew I was getting myself into trouble. But at that moment in time I felt great and no one or nothing was bursting my 3:30:00 bubble. I had this.
18 KM’s rolled around and I was up sh*t creek (urgh it was so early on in the race!). I heard the 03:30:00 pace bunny with her pack behind me. I’d started ahead in the corral so I was definitely uncomfortable that they were now directly behind, running on my heels. The guy next to me (As I later learnt was a guy called Matt, Hi Matt – congrats on your race!) tried to make conversation asking what my goal was and as I gasped out loud ‘to stay in front of the bunny chasing me’ I ate my words when she passed with her confident crew at 22km’s. ‘No worries’ I thought, ‘there’s a second 03:30:00 somewhere behind so you still have a chance to keep up and stay on track’. 5 minutes later I ate my words for the second time as the second group trotted by, casual, confident and fast. ‘For f*cks sake Faye, get it together, stay with them, don’t let them go’ and as I said it to myself, my body rejected my thoughts and I started to sink into a place I haven’t been before. It was dark.
I had gone off too fast and I was now going to suffer for the remainder of the race. I looked down at my watch, 05:45KM’s. I started to look at everything possible to blame. I tried to find reason. I tried to find excuses but I couldn’t justify going down that road because I really only had myself to blame. I am not a 04:35KM runner in a full distance marathon and I should have known better from the start.
The KM’s went by SLOW. My fast KM’s earlier in the race had made my quads burn (I never suffer from any quad pain running flats so this was super interesting and something I wasn’t expecting) oh the beauty of races! I didn’t try to string together excuses like ‘oh it’s too hot and I haven’t drank enough water so now they’re cramping’ or ‘I haven’t had enough salt because I’m nauseous and can’t stomach anything’ nope everything was absolutely as it should be. I was fine! The only reason they hurt was because I thought I was capable of a lot more. It was a direct correlation to my ambitious speeds. I wasn’t where I thought I could be fitness wise and I did this to myself.
Between KM 32 to the finish line was really difficult. There’s not many spectators around the sea wall section and specific landmarks that you know you’re going to run by seem SOOOO far away into the distance. I felt lonely. Yet here I was surrounded by runners, amazing runners who I look up to every, single, day! Yet despite the pain they may have been feeling they were pushing through it. They were doing it for the love of it. They were enjoying this beautiful race and I on the other hand was feeling like I never wanted to race again. Did I even deserve to be calling myself a runner if I couldn’t let this go?
Suffering.
‘Okay Faye, change your mind-set, you haven’t been racing for the past 8km’s now, the goal is out of sight so you may as well treat it as a training run and enjoy the journey’ (I glanced down at my 06:42KM pace, YES 06:42!!!! slower than any training run. Siiiiggghhhhhh). I tried. I tried to be happy. I tried to think positive thoughts but I was just riddled with frustration and embarrassment. And yes, I feel so ridiculously awful for admitting it.
The final couple of KM’s came around. Last year I remember going hard. In fact every year I go hard because the adrenaline is pumping. I’m there giving it my all. Getting goosebumps on the home stretch. Taking in the atmosphere and loving the hype. This year I think I ran my slowest KM’s in those final moments. The 03:45:00 pace bunny passed and said ‘Race me to the end’ and that was it, I was DONE. The tears started to build up as the finish line came in sight and I couldn’t wait for it to be over with.
As I walked to the side with my medal a happy photographer tried to capture my picture and I think I said something on the lines of ‘it’s not worth it today’. Yikes! I’m shocked at myself. Chris tried to uplift my spirits as I’m stood there balling my eyes out through the gate. Alls I wanted was for him to tell me how bad I had just ran so he could justify my emotions. (He didn’t…)
A guy patted me on the back and asked if I could take his picture. He had just crossed the finish line and was beaming. He was SO happy. I felt SO guilty. Why couldn’t I feel that way, I’d just ran 42.2kms again, that’s huge!!!
2 days have now passed and I haven’t fully come to terms with this race yet. I need more time to process. However, right now my emotions are raw! They’re as real as they get. I even broke down in work today when people asked about it – I’m a slight mess.
I know I could have done more in training, I DEFINITELY know I could have paced better and I’ve had realists tell me that if I wanted it as badly as I’ve said then I would have done more training over Winter. But having recorded 876KM already this year together with visualizing the end result I honestly thought I could do it. I didn’t actually realize how much it was going to hurt when it didn’t come together. I didn’t expect to feel like this. Why?
The past few weeks of training have been tedious and my love for road has definitely dwindled. I’ve spent more time in the lead up to the race playing on my bike having SO much fun, picking lines and dreaming of trail running so WHY was I so hung up on 03:30:00? Why didn’t I just enjoy the race? Why did I put so much pressure on myself? When did my love affair with running become so goal orientated? don’t I do it purely for the love of it?
I’m hoping to have answers to these questions sooner rather than later so I can move on from this with a fresh perspective. Although, I even contemplated signing up to the Calgary Marathon in a couple of weeks time to try again, that’s how irrational I am right now. But, there will be other races. This wasn’t my last chance. Just a story on a continuous journey. I know I’ll achieve 03:30:00 one day but my one day wasn’t Sunday and I have to accept that that’s okay. It took me a handful of times to crack sub 4 so it may take me 2 handfuls more to crack 03:30. That is life.
Luckily, I have a couple of days off from work to re-charge physically and mentally. I can’t believe how much my body has been in pain. In fact, I haven’t felt this much stiffness and soreness since my very first marathon lol. I’m also realllllly looking forward to getting back out on the trails to train for the Canadian Death Race which is 12 weeks away as I need to shift my focus and perspective and continue to look ahead and not to look back.
I think this race really brought it to my attention that I need to enjoy every aspect of running; the great results as well as the not so great results. One race isn’t the do all and end all and it’s doesn’t define our abilities. And as cliche as it sounds it’s not about the final end result but more about the journey it took to get there. However, it’s so hard not to be so hard on yourself. I’ve definitely got some self appreciation to work on!
I just want to say *Congratulations* to all of the runners out there. You are all stars and everyone’s moral was beautiful to see and something I clearly need to work on as I seem to have lost it this time round.
Right now I am trying to focus on the quote: “The greater danger for most of us isn’t that our aim is too high and miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.” or as my local idol Liz says ‘I still would rather be someone that sings ridiculous goals from the rooftops, rather than someone that sandbags and low balls themselves so at least there’s that’ (THANK YOU!!!!! I needed your message!).
So for now, I’m going to wrap this up. I’ll try not to cry another tear but I can’t promise I wont be sipping another beer! Vancouver 2019, you were something!
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