Steph's Grand Island Trail Marathon Race Recap

While I was soothing my achy post-marathon muscles in the chilly waters of Lake Superior and healing my ego with an Oberon last weekend, I read this quote in my favorite running book. “When our starting point is a place of gratitude, we have already won before we begin.” Upon reading that, my loud negative thoughts regarding the trail marathon thankfully turned to a whisper.

I was dealing with a new and uncharacteristic post-marathon emotion, which is disappointment and scrutiny over my finishing time. Usually, my heart is more than content to just be doing something that I love to do with a bunch of other people that love doing the same thing. However, this race felt different.

So here it is: my inner monologue during the 2014 Grand Island Trail Marathon:

Miles 1-8: This course is great! Much flatter and less technical than the trails that we had been training on back home. The mosquitos and black flies are the size of my calf muscle, so no walk breaks in an attempt to not get eaten alive, which was not a problem because I’m feeling awesome and could run forever! A couple hill climbs here and there were no big deal because with every uphill meant a downhill. Feeling sparkly. I love running. Just told a new friend of mine “once you start trail running, you will never go back to road running!” (insert celebratory jump and group high fives)

Mile 8.5: Just finished the 1 mile beach run. Send text to husband that said I was feeling great!

Kendra looking strong at Mile 8!

Miles 8.5-12: Looking good, feeling good. Kendra and I separated around Mile 10, but I am ok with that because I’m feeling great and on pace.

Mile 13: Halfway point and I’m feeling pretty strong. Starting to get a little tired, but I am well on target to finish at 5:30ish. I stop with another new friend of mine that I made on course to take some pictures of the beautiful scenery.

I love running! For now.

Mile 15: Just keep running, just keep running, ok let’s be honest- just keep shuffling.

Mile 16: Just stopped at the aid station and made the massive mistake of having the volunteer fill my hydration pack with Heed aka- vomit in "electrolyte" form. Without any warning, an invisible freight train slams into me and I’m left reeling from its impact.

Mile 17-20: Why hello there, inevitable marathon "wall". You showed up a bit earlier than expected. No amount of salt pills, water, Gu Chomps will make me feel better. What I wouldn't give for a potato dipped in salt that are commonly found at trail race aid stations. Someone bring me a potato!

Mile 22: Send text to husband that says words that I can't post because my mom reads this blog something along the lines of “I am never running another marathon again.”

Mile 23: My Garmin dies. Even my Garmin doesn’t want to be out here anymore.

Mile 23

Mile 23.5: Thunder and pouring rain means that the trails turn into very muddy slip-n-slide. Flashbacks to the Warrior Dash and a reminder that mud runs are also off my future to-do list. Just keep on shuffling.

Mile 24: Why the heck are the half marathon mile markers over a quarter of a mile before the marathon markers? I’m not a math expert, but if a marathon is 26.2 and a half marathon is 13.1, shouldn't the marathon markers be before the half marathon markers?

Mile 26: Still nestled deep in the woods and I hear no rumblings of a finish line approaching. A marathon is 26.2 miles, right? Did I miss a turn?The girl in the pink shirt far in front of me just disappeared! That means that she was either eaten by a bear or that she took a turn to the finish line.

What felt like five hours after the 26 mile marker:

FINISH LINE! Cross the finish line to a round of applause, receive my wood medal on a piece of itchy string, reunite with Kendra and Jeff, and wait in line to hop on an breezy boat ride back to the mainland.

So, in a nutshell, the marathon didn’t quite go as planned. I finished about 35 minutes later than I had anticipated. While the race was full of beautiful scenery and relatively easy and non-technical trails, I just wasn’t able to push past the typical marathon aches and pains to find my moment of endurance racing glory.

However- amidst the flurry of negative thoughts, the feeling of gratitude of being physically able to make forward progress for 26.2 miles was never far from my mind. When we were hobbling back to the car, I said goodbye to a bunch of new friends that I had made on the course and recounted to my husband some of the entertaining and inspiring stories that they had shared during our many miles together on the trail.

Now that I have had a few days to reflect on the race, rest my muscles, and eat a deserved post-marathon ice cream cone (or two), I find a familiar comfort in knowing that not only was my starting point in a place of gratitude, but my ending point was as well. And because of that gratitude, I know that I have already won in my own way. And don't you worry, Grand Island Trail Marathon, I'll be back!

Post marathon nap on the beach.