New PR at a High Cost

St. George Halfmarathon Report

I have a feeling that this is going to be long. Even though I am going to tell you about the rest of the weekend in my next post. So. Sit back and enjoy, if you are interested.

A few days before the race, I told Karl that I have two options:

1. Run the way I usually race. Conservative. Start out at a decent pace, log negative splits, finish feeling strong and in control.

2. Start out faster than usual, hang onto that pace for as long as possible, die a slow and painful death.

Karl just laughed. He knew how unlikely it was that I would choose the second option. But, to be honest, the idea kinda grew on me. It was a running event, after all. No pressure. Simply a way of testing where my fitness is at.

On my way to St. George, I called Coach M. She told me I was going to choose the second option. Oh, how I love to have coaches! No need to try to figure things out in my own little head. I just ask and do as I am told.

There was just one little problem that I tried to ignore. I was not feeling 100%. Sure, my legs were tired. But I knew they would most likely come around and join the party. That is, after all, what I am training them for! And even if they did not play along, I could always smash them and then take it easy for a few days. No big deal. My lungs, on the other hand, are a big deal. There is no joking around with the chronic bronchitis that I have once been diagnosed with. It makes a nice comeback every winter and it seems to be getting a little worse every year. I thought I had already closed this year’s chapter in December when I was really smart about my cold plus respiratory infection and it went away quietly. Apparently, not so.

Friday night I am not feeling very well. Saturday morning I feel worse. Coughing and difficulty breathing. We have so much fun in our little condo, that we leave late, get stuck in traffic, and manage to show up barely 20 minutes before the start. I am not being my usual hey-let’s-talk-to-everyone-I-know-before-the-start social-butterfly-self. I am trying to figure out how to deal with the situation. I decide to start out according to plan, see how I feel, and stop or slow down as soon as I have issues. I run into Coach M and she agrees.

I start out at a 6:30 pace, which is what I was hoping for. I get to run ‘with’ the amazing Ali Black for the first 6 miles and we keep the pace between 6:30 and 6:40. Unfortunately, this is not the time to talk triathlon with Ali, so we decide to meet up after the race. After 6 miles, though, I had to let her go as I was starting to not feel so well. Honestly, I think I was just slowing down due to a lack of run mileage in my legs. Mentally, I was also having a rough patch around miles 7 and 8. Just the usual: Why am I doing this? This sucks. I wanna stop and go home. Maybe I can just quit and blame my sickness…

I get over it.

At about mile 9 my quads start cramping up. It gets worse, and worse, and … worse. I am thinking: So what? It is just leg cramps. I can run through these. I can run through anything that does not put my long-term health into jeopardy. I have never experienced cramping like this and by mile 12 I change my mind: Aehm. I might actually fall over if I take 2 more steps. My legs just might give out under me. However, the thought of stopping at this point does not really occur to me. There is just not really a point to slowing down or quitting this close to the finish. Either way you have to walk back to the car. So you might as well get there as fast as possible.

Finish time: 1:29:16

New PR!

(By a few seconds. I ran under 1:30 at the SLC Halfmarathon but that one is mostly downhill.)

My first thought after I cross the finish line:

I am going to pay for this. Big time.

And I am right. Unfortunately. I try to talk a couple of girls that finished ahead of me and realize that my voice is completely gone. As I walk over to the massage tent and sign up for a much-needed massage, I know I won’t return. I struggle to get to the car and put on 4 layers of clothing. Then I hobble to the bathrooms. At this point I am shaking uncontrollably and have a hard time making it out of the port-a-potty. I am not just cold. I am having convulsions. And no matter how hard I try to get my breathing under control and stop shaking, it is not working. On my way back to the car, I briefly consider just lying down on the street and waiting for someone to get the medics.

Back in Jen’s car, I crank up the heat and try to get somewhat comfortable which is impossible. My violent shaking won’t stop for the next 20 minutes. I am aware that I need water and electrolytes but I just can’t get to them. I know Jen will come back eventually and help me. She is always there when I need her. Just as I am repeating I have to get water - I need my recovery drink for the 20^th time, Jen shows up. She gets Heath. They fill me up with water and electrolytes and I start to feel better.

Hyponatremia.

Great. Just what I need. Never really happened to me before. I guess I have just been lucky since I have never paid much attention to that kind of stuff before. Now I will. Promise.

Conclusions:

If you are running a race feeling sick, try not to get hyponatremia on top of your illness.

Your body is stronger than you think. It might carry you through a race rather effortlessly and then collapse at the finish.

Be on top of your nutrition and hydration. Talk to Coach M.

So, what do you think: Did I go on the 45-mile group bike ride that afternoon or not?