The Frye Island Marathon - State 21 {Maine}

I had a panic attack in Maine while Drew & I sat on the deck of the chicken coop we were supposed to sleep in, wrapped in towels to keep the monster mosquitos from devouring us, drinking wine and recounting marathons. I got to Maine, which was supposed to be number 21 and I only had 20. I freaked out thinking I'd miscounted and was only on 20 and what the heck I am so dumb... then I realized I'd forgotten to count Iowa. Which really, who's surprised that silly race slipped my mind? Iowa... or as Drew likes to say, "Idiots out walking around". He really lacks respect for the state as a whole.

Anyways, back to the count. We're on 21. And if you're wondering (is anyone reading this?), yes I did start putting the numbers in the blog title so I wouldn't have to keep counting. Because states always go missing and remembering things is hard when you are 35. 

I was looking for an East Coast marathon in July and found the Frye Island Marathon! Perfect! The only problem was that there was no online registration, only an email address for the race director. So I emailed him and told him I was interested. He said the race was definitely still on and registration would go live soon enough. So we started planning our trip to Maine!

Fast forward several months and several more emails to the race director... I was panicking that this race was not real. I found results from past years and the number of participants ranged from 0 to 9 each year. And still no online registration. But our flights were booked and our chicken coops were confirmed. So we were going to Maine. 

Registration opened at the end of May. The race cost $10. Ten Dollars! I knew this was going to be a race to remember. 

On race day, Drew dropped me off at the ferry at 5:30 AM where the Mayor took 4 of us across the lake to Frye Island. The race director's brother picked us up and drove us to the start where we met up with the 5th participant and the race director gave us directions on the loop course. Then he set his watch and said go. And we were off!

I hadn't run much since Seattle and was battling injuries to my left hip flexor, my right hammy, and both calves. Originally I thought I'd shoot for a 9-minute pace and keep things nice and slow. But as we started I found myself with a gal named Julie who was training for a 100-miler and using this as a training run. We chatted and ran together and she told me she would be running very slow and walking the hills. I assumed I would pick up the pace and leave her after a few miles but quickly questioned WHY. Why do I need to run a 9-minute mile? Who am I doing this for? I was enjoying myself and her company so I stuck with her. I walked the hills, accepted cheers from the locals sitting in lawn chairs drinking beers, and enjoyed the day.

The course was a 1-mile loop followed by a 5-mile loop. Do the math and you'll realize that meant 5 5-mile loops. This seemed daunting, but even with how slow I was running, the miles flew by. I felt great.

At mile 11, we passed through the starting area and Drew was there! The race director's brother offered to let him use his bike. Drew hopped on and for the first time ever joined me on the course! I cannot even explain how much I loved this. He peddled by my side, filled my water bottle, and acted as my own personal photographer. For 15 miles!

The best part of my day. :)

I loved hearing this woman tell me her running stories!

All smiles!

My first self-supported course. That's the only aid station!

Coming into the finish!

Somewhere along the course my watch died. I'm so glad it did because I would probably have been freaking out about the end-time. Even though I said my only goal was to finish, I was still shocked when I came through the finish at 4:54. That's my slowest marathon time ever. And I know it doesn't matter. And I know I had so much fun during the entire race. But it was still a shock. I just keep reminding myself that it's not about the time. It's about the experience. I have nothing to prove.

I ended up as the 2nd place female... and also the 2nd to last female. During the 4th loop I left Julie at the aid station and picked up the pace a bit because I was feeling good. She came in about 15 minutes after me, still smiling. It was a race to remember.

However, we did not get medals! And I needed a medal! So Drew and I stopped by the Frye Island General Store (the only store/restaurant on the island) before heading back to the mainland. I found a nice Frye Island keychain and fashioned my own medal to add to the collection. Because I have to have 50 at the end of this right? Imagine if I didn't... I would be so confused with the count.

Maisy showing off the medal!

Y'all, have we even talked about Maisy? She's been around for 2 years now, but I'm not sure I have even introduced her to the blog! Because who reads blogs anymore???  Maisy is the pet-cemetery version of Mya. She looks extremely similar but is evil to her core. And now she's our only dog.

And with that, I'm taking a break... I've sworn off running for at least a month. I don't think I'll train for another marathon until at least after Christmas. I'm looking forward to slow Saturday mornings, time spent with Drew, and not being tired all the time. I'm ready for a change. I don't know what that looks like, but now I have extra time to think about it. See you next marathon!

Rock & Roll Seattle - State #20

Well, we made it to 20! My only goal in Seattle was to BQ. I feel like this should be a given. I went up an age group so my qualifying time went up by 5 minutes. For a time in my life, every race was a BQ if I wanted it... not so much anymore.

I did not research this race. A few people told me they heard it was hilly. I blew it off. I'm not scared of hills. I'd also been dealing with some lingering calf issues and a fun new injury to my hip. Getting older has not been as graceful as I'd hoped.

So I lined up on race day with the 3:30 pacer. We started running and immediately hit the hills. No worries. I held the pace and felt good. On the uphills, I slowed my pace and worked to make up time on the downhills. This seems like a good strategy, right?

The sun was out, even though the forecast called for rain. It was getting warm so I poured water on my head at every aid station. I lost the pace group around mile 10. This was discouraging, but my mile splits were still around 8 minutes per mile... perfect. 

As the miles went on my pace slowed... the hills continued but nothing terrible. I was still in a good place when I passed Drew heading into the final out-and-back. 

So here's where things took a turn. I was loving the out-and-back because I was able to see the lead runners coming in. This was so much fun! And I told myself that they even though I was going up hill right now, look at them going downhill! I'd be flying by the finish!

This did a couple of things to me mentally... first, it made the finish seem closer than it was. In truth, I was only at mile 19. As I crested that hill I realized that I had another insanely huge hill ahead of me. It was a doozy. I kept my spirits up and pushed hard on the downhill.

As I was going up the next giant hill, I kept telling myself that I just had to make it up and then I'd get to turn around and go down. About halfway up I crossed the 20-mile marker and I realized my math was way off. I was not going to turn around at the top. This was a total mind-f*ck. I reached the top and realized there was so much more to come... and that I'd be climbing this hill again. 

Again, I pushed hard on the downhill... still fighting for that 3:40 BQ. The course turned into a park and suddenly we were running on trails... hilly gravel trails. I kept battling mentally. I kept telling myself "I can do hard things". 

Once out of the park, I was finally on my way back toward the finish line. I was hurting so bad. Even the downhills were killer. It was on a big downhill that I wanted so badly to stop and walk. I kept telling myself I could not walk on the downhill. I could walk on an uphill or at an aid station but NOT on the downhill. 

Then at mile 23 the 3:40 pacer passed me. 

I started walking... on the downhill. And I let every physical and emotional pain wash over me. 

I was defeated.

I walked a lot, tried to run, walked some more. The 3:50 pacers passed me. I told myself not to cry until the finish. 

The last 3 miles were slow and painful. I was miserable. As I approached the finish line I felt emotion wash over me... but I did not cry. I crossed the finish line with no sign of Drew. Apparently when the 3:50 pacers came in he thought for sure he'd missed my finish and went to look for me. He had no idea I had slowed down so much.

As soon as I finished the clouds came, the temp dropped, and it started to rain. Of course it did. In the confusion at the finish, we had a hard time finding each other and I ended up sitting in the cold rain for about 20 minutes. I finally used a stranger's phone to get a hold of Drew and at that point I lost it. I just sat there in the rain crying. It was awful. Not my best moment.

But then we found each other and made it back to our Air B&B. Drew got me coffee and I showered and warmed up and took a tiny nap and everything was fine. In the moment it was the worst. The worst. But I guess this too shall pass.

That afternoon we made our way to Washington University where we filled up on Thai food... my favorite post-race meal. Then we went to the Oiselle Flagship Store! I'd been dying to go and Drew is such a trooper for spending an afternoon shopping for running clothes after he just spent a morning watching a road race. Can we agree he's the best?

And that was the race. We had planned on staying until Thursday but on Monday we received a phone call from our vet that Ari's health had declined significantly. We made arrangements and made it home that night. Our amazing vet brought Ari to meet us at our home. The next day we said goodbye.

This blog is nothing but a way for me to record my races anymore... but it used to be so much more. And I'm so happy I captured such sweet stories about my puppy dog. He has defined our lives for so long and we are having a tough time figuring out who the Gibsons are without him. Our story is so much fuller because he was in it.