After the weekend I just had with my favorite people my heart is so full and happy for many, many reasons that I will write about in a future post. Unfortunately, my performance yesterday isn’t one of them. 

Less than 24 hours after completing the Boston Marathon I sit here with a busy mind occupied mostly by the painful and uncomfortable feeling of disappointment. As much as my heart is telling my mind to be gentle with myself and as hard as I try to replace this feeling with literally anything else, it is completely consuming at this moment. 

As a brief recap, I started out strong in the first 15 miles of my 26.2 mile journey. I felt great physically and I was full of gratitude and positive energy as I traveled through each iconic section of the marathon that I’ve heard so many stories about over time. 

The roaring crowds, their encouraging and sometimes hilarious signs, the ringing cowbells, my family shouting my name, the Wellesley Scream Tunnel, the incredible volunteers at each aid station, and the others surrounding me who I knew were also living out their ultimate running dream as we hit the pavement, each stride getting us a little closer to Boston. 

I felt unstoppable mentally and physically… until I didn’t. Around mile 15 or so my quads became so sore and my legs so difficult to move. I pushed forward believing I could make it through but very quickly began having flashbacks to my first marathon and before I knew it, I was walking. 

I was upset that I had stopped running but to be honest, I was still really enjoying myself. I realized this just wasn’t my day, but it was still the Boston Marathon and how lucky was I to be a part of it? Running, jogging, walking, or crawling I was experiencing this iconic event.

Though my legs were on fire I continued to smile as I took in everything around me and eventually, with a combination of walking and jogging I made it to the finish line in about 3 hours and 55 minutes. 

As soon as I began the post-finish line journey to meet up with my family, the feeling of disappointment overcame every ounce of me. My time was my time and I didn’t care so much about that. I had no time goal, no numbers in mind. If I had run 4.5 hours but felt good doing it, I wouldn’t have minded. But I walked. I didn’t do what I set out to do. 

I felt so prepared for this race. I was committed to my training, I practiced on hills, I spent the week leading up focusing on rest and hydration, and most importantly I maintained a healthy body and mind. I felt like I had done everything right and because of that I was so excited. I knew having a slower time was very possible but I didn’t care because I was confident that I would make it through and no matter what I’d have fun doing it. 

Ever since I took that last stride over the finish line I have been trying to figure out what went wrong and what I could have done differently. After the Wineglass Marathon (my first marathon) I was upset but I also knew exactly why I struggled that day. I was overtrained, I was pushing the pace on every training run, and I was not taking care of my body. I learned a lot from that experience and this time around I tried so hard to do everything right. 

Not only did I feel like I did everything possible that was within my control to be successful, but the weather was also perfect, I had a great night of sleep, I felt strong and my legs felt ready. As I wrote last week, success isn’t guaranteed no matter how prepared you feel. But not being able to rationalize why yesterday ended up how it did is challenging.

Twice now, in the only two marathons I’ve run, I walked much of the second half. I realize I’m not thinking rationally with it being so fresh, but because of the ideal conditions all around it’s easy to let my mind slip into a place of believing that I’m just not cut out for marathons. I’m not strong enough or tough enough or athletic enough. I want to prove myself wrong and someday I will, but at this moment my confidence is low.

I know this isn’t the mindset I should have, and I know better than to quit on myself (I never will). The Athletic Counselor/Health Coach in me understands that this isn’t a productive way of thinking, but I also believe that it’s ok and important to allow myself to feel what I’m feeling. I’ll bounce back eventually, I know I will. 

I’m not looking for sympathy, I just want to be real. Maybe someone out there can relate and if that’s you, we’ll be ok. But we don’t have to be right now. 

More post(s) to come on the details of a wonderful weekend that, despite a rough 4 hours, will always hold a very special place in my heart.