I ran very little this week. Just a 30 min tempo run on Monday, 2 miles on Wednesday and 2 on Friday. I mostly just rested, stretched, iced, rolled, and prepared myself for Saturday. Midway through the week I began to feel "off." It started with light-headedness, stomach cramps, and an overall feverish feeling. I immediately implemented my emergency flu treatment: oregano oil, echinacea, garlic soup, and lots of fluids. I went to bed early on Thursday and woke up feeling better on Friday morning, though not entirely well.
The drive to Santa Barbara was quite enjoyable. We stopped by the expo, picked up our race packets and headed to our hotel. As soon as we got situated we went out for a quick run to shake off our nerves and stretch and then we met our friends for dinner. Sally and I shared a veggie pizza and I had a beet and arugula salad. Nothing out of the ordinary. We went back to our room, got all our gear ready, our alarms set and tried to get a restful night of sleep. I tossed and turned a little but for the most part I was able to get rest.
On Saturday my alarm went off at 5am. I got up and did my usual morning ritual: apple cider vinegar gargle, netti pot sinus rinse, water, essential oils, etc. I took a warm shower to loosen my muscles, got dressed, got some coffee and ate a peanut butter sandwich. Nothing out of the ordinary. We drove to UCSB campus where we parked our car, got into a shuttle and arrived at the start line by 6:45, with plenty of time before our race started at 7:30am.
Up to this point I'm feeling well. I'm relaxed, excited and a bit reflective. By 7:25 everyone starts lining up and 4 military planes fly overhead, the national anthem plays and I can't contain the tears. I'm very emotional. I pull out my list and begin to read the names for the first few miles. The words "lost in battle" catch my eye and I cry. I try to compose myself and get ready to go.
At 7:30am the gun goes off. I slowly find my pace and fall comfortably in with the 3:50 group. A few minutes later I pass them and quickly find myself behind the 3:45 group. I follow this group for about a mile and I decide to cut through and see where my pace falls naturally. I catch up to the 3:40 group and the pace felt comfortable. I've been training at this pace, my body recognizes it. I stick with this group for the next 7 miles, all the while a dialogue is playing in my head: Can I really do this? What if I could go for a BQ today and just get it out of the way? I can taste victory for a fleeting moment but I quickly realize that I'm kidding myself. An 8:20 pace is swift for me. I can maintain it for 10 miles, but 26? Plus there is no wiggle room at all. Ok, my bubble burst and reality sunk. A BQ is not my goal today.
Mile 8--I need hydration and fuel. It's very hot! I remember there are GUs at mile 9 so I decide to wait. I get to mile 9, stop to consume my gel and the dizziness comes back, my stomach starts cramping and I get a cold feeling all over my body. I keep running but find myself slowing down quite a bit. I'm feeling worse by the minute. Miles 10 through 13 are a blurr. I'm sick to my stomach and I'm seriously considering quitting at the half way point. Fatigue has set in and I feel faint.
Mile 13--I reach an aid station and I get sick....I sit down and I'm offered water and a granola bar by a kind volunteer. He is friendly and engages me in conversation. I feel awful! I sit for a few minutes and then I get up, thank him and ask for the water bottle cap. He hands it to me and tells me he will keep watch over me. At this point I begin to cry. I pull out my list and start to "talk" to my new friends. I ask them to carry me. I asked them what kept them from quitting. I confess I have nothing left.
Mile 18--the last five miles are a blur, I don't know how I got here. I am taking a walking break and see the 4:10 group pull up next to me. Adrienne, our other friend taps me in the shoulder and says, you got this Lucia, come on. I couldn't look at her. I just start running. We keep up with this group for a little bit and we check in on each other. She is not doing so well either. We are both desperate for salt. There is not enough food or electrolytes on this run and we are dying. Our legs are starting to cramp.
Mile 22--I have nothing left. I do my best to run for a few minutes but I'm mostly walking. I reach "the hill" at mile 23 and sigh. Half a mile and then it's downhill. My legs lock up, they feel like rocks. I get to the top and catch a glimpse of the ocean. The end is so near I can taste it. I can't run anymore. My head feels like its going to explode and I feel sick again. I wish I could run down the hill but I have a hard time standing on my feet.
Mile 25--the flags! I sob.
Mile 26--I need to cross the finish line with dignity, so I pretend to run...
Mile 26.1 We finished. Thank you for carrying me friends.
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