NYC Marathon & what’s next?

It has been almost three weeks since I ran the New York City Marathon. Here’s how the three weeks went:

Week One Post-Race - I was pretty confused, felt a little overwhelmed from the jumble of emotions that hadn’t been sorted yet, and my immediate reaction when someone congratulated me was to downplay the accomplishment and talk about what I wasn’t proud of. Oof.

Week Two Post-Race - Marathons are amazing, pushing yourself is amazing, what a magical and beautiful high, what an incredible thing that we, as humans, get to get together and run and push our brains and bodies to incredible places, is there anything better than the marathon? I’m so excited to take a season off and have free time and run a fast half and do speed work and my long runs will be 8-10 miles instead of 14-18 and that ROCKS.

Week Three Post-Race - I am signed up for a Spring Marathon.

So! Let’s back it up.

My training cycle wasn’t perfect, but I’m proud of it. I trained through wedding planning and the wedding itself, and I trained through a honeymoon which included my husband running the Chicago Marathon and us both hiking 18 miles into and out of the Grand Canyon. I am proud of my imperfect marathon training cycle because for the first time in 6 years, I trained without getting injured and I still loved running at the end of training. I finished the marathon and still loved running. My relationship with running is currently uncomplicated and that’s such a big win for me. 

More than I’m proud of my training cycle, I am telling myself over and over again that I’m proud of my marathon. I think that it’s true! But as uncomplicated as my relationship with running is at the moment, my relationship with the NYC Marathon is very complicated.

I absolutely loved this race. I loved the crowds. I LOVED THE NOISE. I loved the course (even though I was swiftly humbled by it). Here’s the thing: I had an amazing 20 miler as my peak week run. It was my favorite run I’ve ever done. At the end with 3 miles left, Mile 18 was my fastest. I decided to see if I could make 19 faster, and I did. So then I tried to make 20 faster and my legs were so fresh, so light, and mile 20 was my fastest mile of the day and I felt GOOD! Then fast forward a week and instead of a long run, Sam and I hiked the Grand Canyon. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done (18 miles total, 5,000 feet down, 5,000 feet climb back up). We went down the South Kaibab trail to the river, and by the time we got to the bottom our quads were trashed. Once we started the climb back up on the Bright Angel trail, it only took a few steps for me to realize that I would panic if I started thinking about how much there was left to go. The scale of the thing was flooring me. So I went one step at a time, we just kept going, and four hours later we were at the top. It was so hard, and it was amazing.

Going into New York, I felt amazing. I was in such good shape, I was so confident, and I think that confidence might have turned to hubris at some point because I did not remember how hard marathons are, and I severely underestimated how those bridges would feel. I also think I was a little (a lot) relaxed when it came to fueling the days before. I was so excited to be in New York, so excited to see friends, so excited to race and I just didn’t prioritize my fuel. 

So when 12 miles into the race I started to feel really rough, really heavy, really beat down, I panicked. That’s early. Unfortunately, my brain panicked, too. When it started to hurt, my brain got my attention really loudly and said “hey, just a reminder, please don’t forget that you CANNOT do this.” The messaging of the 6 years of start lines I didn’t make it to, races I pulled out of, and training I abandoned morphed from things that I’ve learned to frame productively and turned into a catalog of why I was destined to fail. And then the panic attacks started. 

I found myself halfway through the race and totally unable to breathe, feeling dizzy and faint, sweaty and cold. The thing about not being able to breathe while running a marathon is that it really perpetuates that “I can’t do it” mentality because oh my god, how am I supposed to run if I can’t breathe?? I was in a really rough place and thinking about dropping out but I told myself just to make it to Sam. He’d be at mile 17 or 18 and I could walk after that. So I did, I kept going and kept having panic attacks. I’m not usually a mantra person, but if I let the internal monologue of “I can do this, I AM doing this” pause for one moment, my brain would claw in and the panic attacks would start again. I was actively drowning them out as long as I could, just making it to Sam, and the second I saw him I broke. A very nice stranger didn’t know what to do about the person who had just pulled off to the side sobbing and they offered me a banana that, in hindsight, I wish I had taken. What a nice stranger. 

Sam talked me back up. He reminded me that I could walk, that I could do this. I yelled at him to stop encouraging me and just hug me until it was time to go again. He hugged me and also kept encouraging me, and eventually I pried myself away and started walking. I pulled my ear buds out and turned on Taylor Swift and just walked and cried feeling so very sorry for myself, and then I felt a hand on my back.

Leaving my hotel in the morning, I had met a man in the elevator on the way downstairs. He was also running, so we walked to the Subway together. Then we rode the bus together and spent the entire 3 hour wait in the village together, and by the time the race started we had been together for 6 hours. We planned to run separately, but ended up running the first 8-10 miles together. I eventually lost him, but here he was. He came up behind me and said “let’s go!” And because I was grumpy and self-pitiful and insufferable, I obviously yelled at him to leave me and go. But then I realized — this might be my only chance to pull myself out of this. So I caught up with him. 

We ended up running the rest of the race together. We coached each other up the hills, we counted the miles, and the only words we spoke were random grunts and “you got this, let’s go.” We’ve stayed in touch and I hope he knows that he’s the reason I made it to the finish line. The running community is beautiful and amazing. 

So here we are, post-race, and for a while I was disappointed, I didn’t really have a time goal in mind, but that 20 miler really made me think it could be a good day and I had started to hope a little bit. But more than feeling disappointed in any time, I was just disappointed to have struggled so much, to have let my brain win, to have not felt as strong as I thought I was. 

A friend of mine messaged me to congratulate me, and I did what I mentioned earlier: immediately talked down the accomplishment, emphasized the disappointment, responded like an all-around bummer. And he sent me a post by @dr.lisa.dpt on Instagram. It said “DO NOT skip over the part where you are proud of yourself.” Honestly, that hit me hard. I like the framing of it. You’re allowed to have other emotions and unpack some feelings, but you still can’t skip that important step. So now I’m trying to embody that! I’m sorting my feelings and remembering that I’m proud of myself because I ran the 2024 New York City Marathon and that is really f*cking cool.

So where are we now? 

I was so excited to get running again. Once I worked through all the feelings, all I could think about was how excited I was to try again. And then I remembered…

Do you guys remember the marathon I was supposed to run earlier in March? And then I forgot to train so I deferred and registered for the Jim Thorpe marathon in April instead. And then I still didn’t train so I dropped down to the 7 miler (examples of some of the training cycles feeding my mean brain during the race). 

That means I’m registered for a marathon in March…oops! My immediate response was I hadn’t been planning to run it, let’s eat the cost and just move on. But then I thought about it more and, you know what? My body feels awesome. I feel motivated. I want to get revenge on the marathon and tweak my fueling (i.e. remember to fuel on race week) and see if I can try again because now the messaging in my brain is changed. I have a recent marathon that I can point to and I can tell that voice that not only can I do it, I HAVE done it and the idea that I can’t do it is just incorrect. I’m ready to try again.

I’m keeping the pressure off. I originally was genuinely excited about half marathon training, shorter long runs, more free time. I’m allowed to still want that. So here’s the deal: I have a hotel and it’s 100% refundable. If I decide that I really don’t want to be marathon training this winter, I was already planning to eat the registration cost and I just cancel my hotel, easy peasy, no harm done. I’m prioritizing what keeps me motivated and exciting and what preserves this magical relationship with running that I have right now. So we’ll see what happens! 

I loved New York. New York is awesome. If I ever get the chance to run it again, I’ll say yes in a heartbeat. I’d love to experience it as someone who feels confident and soak it all in. And in the meantime, I think I learned more from this race than I learned in the last 6 years. That feels awesome.