Goals can be a funny thing. I felt as well prepared for this marathon as any I've ever trained for. Was pleasantly surprised, last year, when my attempt at two marathons within three weeks brought me roughly the same finishing times that I'd had ten years prior -- about 4:45.
I was faster this summer. Stronger. Better conditioned. Better rested and hydrated through my taper. Got more 20+ mile training runs in. Felt stronger about everything. The weather forecast was all kinds of awesome.
And yet?
It just wasn't my day on Sunday. My quads started to hurt around mile 10 or so. And there was a persistent side ache that followed me from mile 13 on. The entire last half of the marathon was a struggle just to run. It didn't really get any better, although walking helped a bit, it was clear that this marathon was going to be a grind.
I didn't really notice much along the second half. Didn't see the gorgeous fall colors. Wasn't excited to see the cathedral near the end. And the finish line? I had to force my body back into motion when I saw it come over the hill, knowing that I had half a mile or so where I couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop.
My legs were trembling at the end.
And as much as I'd maybe like to be disappointed, as much as I wish I would have been closer to my goal pace (or at least my times from last year), I know that the important thing, again, is that I finished. That I took on this challenge five some months ago and stuck with my training for the second consecutive year. That over the course of five different marathons with Team in Training -- dating back to 1998 -- I've managed to help raise more than $45,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.
You're not always going to get great, perfect, amazing days where everything works exactly as expected.
What matters is that I finished. My legs are still sore, two days later, but they're getting better.
And I'm already thinking about next year.
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