Get comfy and grab a refreshing beverage. This is long (partly copying from my FB testimonial):
Flying Pig Marathon 2019:
After Boston, there was no way I was doing the Pig. The back to back marathoning the past few years is really taking a toll on me. I feel beaten down physically and mentally, I have lost my love of running—probably from the injuries. My training for Boston was derailed by constant pain in my hamstrings, glutes, and back. It was diagnosed as possible nerve damage, but the jury is out on whether that is the actual problem. I had been feeling pretty good the past few weeks, but felt a familiar pain in my lower leg about 10 days ago when I crossed my leg to tie my shoe. I knew it was a stress reaction, possible stress fracture in my fibula, maybe into the tibia. I have had this multiple times over the years. But it’s The Flying Pig! I love this race. It was my first marathon and I ran it 17 years ago, on this day. I would still do it, just run an easier pace and enjoy the experience. I did almost no running this past week except for the 5k with H on Saturday. I felt fine running the easy pace with him, but later in the day my leg was hurting. I knew the marathon was going to be tough. I was hoping to squeeze out 15-16 miles before it got ugly. I wasn’t even out of downtown on the way to Eden Park when I was feeling it. I knew it was going to be bad and was angry with my body. I had felt stronger those first 6 miles than I had in Boston. By mile 8, I was in a lot of pain. I knew in my heart, another 18 miles like this would be nearly impossible. I asked a course official on a bike what I should do if I needed to drop. He wasn’t sure and said to visit a medical tent. Finally at mile 10-11, I stopped. I told the woman in the tent that I think I needed to drop out of the race. Then I started crying. I have never DNF’d a race before. She wasn’t exactly sure and was offering me anything she had on hand. Unfortunately, nothing would fix this. She said she could call someone and they should be able to transport me back downtown. I asked if I could borrow her phone to call my husband to come and get me. In true dh fashion, he didn’t answer his phone. I left him a long message and said I was going to try to keep going to the next medical tent. If he had answered, I am positive I would have quit. I knew he had gone home to get the kids and they were going to come cheer me on. The thought of them being out there and not seeing me and knowing that I quit was unbearable. I also wanted to keep trying to show them that when things start sucking, you keep going and FINISH the race as long as you are able. I re-evaluated my goals. Today was no longer about hitting a certain time. I started slowly running again and did a combo run/walk. At mile 13, I stopped at medical again and asked if I could use their phone. I called dh and asked where they were. They were at mile 14! I said I would be there, but it was slow. As I turned onto Bramble, there was a group offering cups of beer—I had one. It was around here that I saw a girl walking. I asked her if she was ok and she said she was fine, just taking it slow since she had a goal race in 6 weeks. She was a Flying Pig Ambassador and we talked about marathons. She told me the story of her dad passing before she qualified and ran Boston 2018. I related since my dad who loved to watch me run died 6 weeks before my first Boston. During this, I saw dh and my sweet kids. I nearly fell into them giving hugs. I quickly got back to business and headed to Mariemont. I wished Carolyn luck and told her to go on since my walk breaks were increasing in frequency. I came close to throwing up a couple of times from the pain. I knew my support crew would be around mile 16.5 and they saw me right away! They were jumping up and down and in their boredom, had found 4 leaf clovers for me. I told them to walk with me. Eventually, I had them turn around and head back to dh. This was such a spirit lifter for me. This was the reason I was out there doing this. I was hurting so much and limping when I was walking and doing my shuffle run. I continued and stopped at another medical tent around mile 18. I called dh and let him know I was still hanging in there. (side note—I stopped racing with my phone over the last year or so. I so wished I had it today!). I knew they would be around mile 21. Right before I got to them, there was a group of kids handing out foam footballs to throw over the fence. There were kids on the other side catching them in laundry baskets. I had to do this. My kids were so excited that it made it into one of the baskets. More hugs and they walked a little with me. I continued on and at mile 22, I shot a basket in memory of Lauren Hill (note—I missed). Right after that, I got some ibuprofen for strangers. They had a table set up with all kinds of things to help runners—pretzels, pickles, water, ..they got my attention when they said ibuprofen. Around mile 23 I did another marathon first: a shot of tequila. It was Cinco de Mayo after all. I started decreasing the walk breaks—holy ****, I just wanted this over! And possibly the tequila shot helped. At mile 24, the medical tent folks asked if I was cramping since I was limping so badly. I said no it wasn’t muscular—it was a stress fracture or worse. I know there is nothing they could do for that and I said I could finish. I love the last 2 miles of the Pig course along the river, looking towards downtown. It is a huge motivator knowing the end is right there. When I was just past mile 25, a girl who I am going to presume was a first timer, started crying and telling the guy running with her that she was going to do it. She was going to complete a marathon. This made me tear up because I remember that feeling— that feeling when you know you are going to reach your goal. You train and work so hard, but in the back of your head you wonder if you can really pull it off. That moment when yes, you know you got it…it is unbelievable. As I entered downtown, I saw one last group providing cheers and refreshments. Imagine my joy when I saw that it was my local high school (I went there and my son is a freshman)! I saw some familiar faces and it gave me the last burst I needed to get to the finish line. As I was heading to the finish, I really started to play up to the crowds to get them to be louder. So much fun. I finished in 4:25. It has been a LONG time since I have had a marathon that started with a 4. I couldn’t be prouder of this race.
I cannot bear weight on my leg and there is a good amount of swelling. I dug out the crutches and I am icing my leg. Amazingly, nothing else hurts. My quads don’t even feel like they ran a race and if it wasn’t for the leg pain, I would probably have run 10 miles the next day. I will heal and recover properly and I won’t rush back into running too soon. I’ve made that mistake and it comes back to bite me on the butt. I have a BIG goal race in September in Berlin.
Two of my cheering squad. I had my oldest stay home because he had a band thing all day the day before. He needed to sleep.
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My kids were showing me their 4 leaf clovers around mile 16.5.
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My extra bling for being a 10 year squadron member.
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Around mile 5, before things took a turn for the ugly. I am in front of the green "park" sign.
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And this was from today:
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It is a complete fracture of the fibula. It is pretty cleans no surgery. I was allowed to go with a boot instead of a cast--I pleaded my case that I have a vacation in 3 weeks. Now how do I do 3 days of Disney + a cruise with this? I chaperoned my 4th grader's field trip today before my appointment. My ankle/leg looks like a stuffed sausage.
