4:28:08

Day 131 of 130

Ks covered: 942.2
Ks to go: 109.2
General mood: Down
Running highlight: Finishing my marathon!
Equipment status: well used
Body status: Very sore – black baby toe

4:28:08

That’s my time. For the numerically dyslexic, that’s eight minutes and eight seconds over my goal. Seems my quest to go from couch to Kenyan stalled somewhere around Mozambique.

I know, I know. I shaved nearly 20 minutes off of my PB and, well, I ran a frickin’ marathon. But I just can’t shake the cloud of disappointment that has shadowed me since I crossed the finish line yesterday. The ‘wall’ reared its ugly red-brick head somewhere around 32k, and it was about eight kilometres high. No broken ankles, no heart-felt bubble-boy stories. No excuses. Just 8 minutes and 8 seconds.

Bummer.

The race lead-up was perfect, if a little intimidating. Staying at the ‘official’ race hotel was a surreal experience. 26 floors of joyously gaunt, super-fit running fanatics sure draws attention to one’s body-fat percentage. Oh, and need I mention our room was two doors down from the Elite Hospitality Suite? The Kenyans were giving me funny looks every time we got off the elevator on the same floor…then again, I think maybe they were just afraid I would eat them.

Actually, I think I did everything right. Slept well, dieted well and tapered according to the book. I didn’t even go out too fast. And, let me tell you, Ottawa is a great place to run a marathon. The whole town gets behind the race. The scenery is monumental and the weather – 23 degrees, slightly overcast and a light breeze – was perfect.

In fact, the first 30K felt great. At 21K I was slightly ahead of schedule, a little tired, but optimistic. Along the way I met many inspirational runners, including a guy pushing a disabled two-year-old boy in a running-stroller, whose dream was for the two of them to walk together over the finish line. Thousands of people heading in the same direction, with the same goal in mind, and no-one, not one solitary soul, telling you you’re wrong to try. Where else could you find that?

By 32k however, the thought of running 10 steps, let alone 10K seemed ludicrous. My well-learned inspirational mantras were suddenly kicked out of my head, replaced by a cartoon like fight between the angel and devil on my shoulders.

Devil: “Just walk, everything hurts. That guy’s walking. You should just walk”

Angel: “C’mon Becky, you’ve told everyone about this goal. You’ve dreamt about it. Just run a little further!”

Devil: “Hey Angel baby, what say you and me ditch this loser and go somewhere more private? I can wrap a toga in ways that would knock your wings off.”

Finally, it was seeing the 4:30 pace bunny pass me that got me going. There was no way I was going to let that happen. Somehow I got my head together, got my ass into gear and got the legs moving again.

And then there were the supporters. My Ottawa friends Jen and Gregor almost gave their new baby whiplash while running beside me at 39K. My husband offered to carry me home if I would just keep running – all the while carrying the sticker-covered sign my girls had made that proudly called for me to ‘Empty the Tank.”

And I finished.

So in the end, while I am disappointed, there are some positives:

– I beat the top-ranked Canadian woman (actually she didn’t finish the race – but I still kicked her ass.)

– I passed at least one elite male athlete ( actually he was injured and walking back to the start, so I felt bad)

– I beat Oprah’s best time by a minute. Man, is she slow!

– I slashed almost 20 minutes from my best time, and

– This morning, I ate a large post-race breakfast of eggs, bacon, potatoes and a smoothie without so much as a side of guilt.

Overall then, this whole experience has been good. The support I’ve had from you readers has been amazing, the learning curve has been steep and the commitment has been challenging. I’m proud to say my couch has a few less dents on it.

Hopefully, you’ll be pleased to know my blog will run on, and I will too. Later this week I will announce my next goal – sometime after I send out the shirts (and pants) to the winners of my Ottawa competition.

Will I do it again? Just watch me.

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