I was expecting to be writing a different kind of post from the couch the day after the Brooklyn Half, legs sore and toes beaten. I expected to write about a remarkable experience. Hitting my goal time. And a great performance. Unfortunately, it wasn't my day. The stars were not aligned. Thinking back a few weeks, there were surely some red flags to why I crumbled on the course. It's actually not surprising at all that I didn't hit my goal.
I started feeling some pain in my hip-leg about two weeks ago after my 10 mile long run. My old nagging IT band injury. I acted quickly and thoroughly to address it. The next week, I did another 10 mile run and felt pretty good after. Until I spent the majority of daughter's First Communion on my feet in poor shoes during my recovery period. The pain came back. I also haven't been sleeping well. And some other things going on in life keeping me quite on edge (even for me!)
Nevertheless, I actually felt good on race day. The 7 days prior, I was icing my leg religiously, taking supplements, resting from all activity besides walking, and got treatment.
Rob and I arrived in Brooklyn on Friday and made our way to the expo to pick up our bibs. It was really special to share this experience with him for the first time - as he was running as well through a lucky lottery entry. I enjoyed snapping photos, beaming with pride, knowing he was going to put down a killer time the next day - with little effort. He's a natural. An anomaly.
The Brooklyn Half Expo is one of a kind. It's a true pre-party event with live music round the clock, food trucks, craft beer, and lots of running amenities. The view from DUMBO is breathtaking and the vibe is magical. I wish the NYC Marathon Expo was like this!
While we were fortunate enough to be able to stay overnight in a hotel, we still didn't get enough sleep. Work, nerves, and too much running around on Friday evening. Nothing out of the norm for us, but took a larger compounding toll this time. When our alarm clock went off at 5am, we both moaned and cringed. Brutal. Out the door by 5:30am to take the subway down to Prospect Park.
Rob was in Wave 1, Corral H and I was in Wave 2, Corral C. Sadly, we had to separate pretty soon after arriving because they organized the corrals differently this year than years past which required an earlier and more strict holding pattern. With the goal of having a more organized, safer, and better experience for all runners. This being my third year at this particular event, I didn't notice a big difference. Rob said he felt like he was in the right spot, so maybe it was better for the faster runners to have a little more breathing room.
Before we split, we met up with a bunch of Milltown Runners from Patchogue, and then divided into two groups based on our corrals. Rob went with the majority of them in Wave 1, in addition to meeting up with my friend Will in his corral H. Me and two other Milltown women had a later start time in Wave 2 - as well as three different corral letters from each other. We had plenty of time to get coffee, fuel, hydrate, and use the bathroom one last time.
When I got into my corral, the energy was buzzing. The corral went silent for the national anthem and wildly cheered at the line "land of the free". There was a woman next to me from London who ran the NYC Marathon this past fall just like me, as well as London and Boston. She also has entry into Chicago this year. She was asking me about the Brooklyn course as she had never done it before. I told her miles 1-7 in the park were the hardest part, and then once you break free from that it's easy sailing down Ocean Parkway to Coney Island. Foreshadowing...as I ate my words soon after!
So my Half Marathon PR was 2:12:18, which happens to be Brooklyn 2023 from last year. I have been consistently running closer to a 9 minute pace the last 6 months. I've held it for a 5k, then a 10k, then a 15k. It was completely feasible that I could hit that for a Half Marathon as well.
My goal was to shatter that and hit 2:05:00. Which meant I needed to hold a 9:30 pace. Meaning...I gave myself 30 seconds of leeway from what I knew I could run. A very realistic goal. In my head, I was thinking I could even hit the 2 hour mark if I really was feeling good.
Good news - I did set a new PR of 2:10:59
Bad news - obviously, I did not a hit 2:05:00. I was nearly 6 minutes off.
So what went wrong? Just take a look at my pace analysis. Miles 1-4 were perfect. Spot on. Then I hit the big hill between miles 5-6 and had a little slow down - totally expected and not even that bad. Then I broke free out of the thickness of the park onto Ocean Parkway - just a straight shot down to Coney Island now. Very flat. It should have felt easy. But as you can see, I started to lose my pace...9:43, 9:59, 10:49 !!!
I was holding on for dear life.
I can tell you that every step I took was torture. I was running at max effort. And every time I stared down at my watch, I was getting slower and slower. It didn't feel real.
And the truth is, even though I hit those first few miles perfectly. I knew at the start of the race that something was off. I didn't have my usual adrenaline. Sure, I was happy to be there. But something never kicked in. I just couldn't find a groove. I was uncomfortable from the first step I took. The air felt thick. It was much hotter than I thought it was going to be. The cloud coverage broke away to blazing sun. I was thirsty by the first water station - dehydrated even. Once you feel dehydrated, it's already too late. I had a GU gel around mile 6 and it made my stomach turn. Also very strange. OH - and I had to pee within the first ten minutes. Even though I had just gone. So I held it in until I just couldn't hold it anymore and used a potty at mile 10. It was the quickest 27 seconds of my life (no really, I timed it). But argh what a waste of time and a terrible head game.
Then around mile 12, my leg started to hurt. Which also brought on a great deal of PTSD and anxiety around 2022 Brooklyn incident at the same exact spot on the course. Not a coincidence. Max fatigue. I had to choke back some tears to run past "the spot" and then felt relieved once I physically passed it, confirming that I was indeed not cursed.
So when I say the stars were not aligned that day for me, I think it's safe to say the stars were in fact MISALIGNED!
I did smile at the end. Apparently. NYRR got a candid photo of me seconds after getting my medal. So there's evidence that I was at least somewhat happy.
I know, I know. You think I'm nuts. But can you imagine working that hard for a year. Running a full marathon. Hitting all your training runs. Running at max effort...to only take ONE single minute off your previous time? That would drive anyone mad.
I think there's a lesson in all of this. I haven't quite figured it out yet. Let me know if you figure it out first!
I think it's something about "giving yourself grace".
It was a bad day.
I have a lot going on outside of running.
Despite all that - I STILL set a PR.
Even if it's not as big of a jump as I wanted.
I'm still always improving.
I'm not going backwards.
And...there's always next year. I'm coming for you Brooklyn 2025 (insert deranged emoji here). As I told our friend Maggie, it's either running or hard drugs. So be happy I picked running.