So Grandma’s weekend came and went, and I didn’t die…but that’s pretty much it. I didn’t do anything else worthy of praise either. It was pretty much the hardest race I’ve run since I started running competitively, and I’m pretty certain that it’s the last marathon for me.
When I ran Chicago in 2015, I tried really hard to do everything right and it just didn’t work. My IT band kept me hobbling for the last ten miles and dropped my finish time from about 4:15 to 5:30. It was very disappointing and I knew I could do better cause the first half of the race felt great. Grandma’s was a different story.
I tried keeping my training lighter mileage wise and mixed in more strength training. Apparently I needed to do more mileage, strength or both cause my finish time was almost an hour slower than Chicago. Boo.
I’m at a loss on what to do cause I’m sure that I could run a 4:15 if the stars aligned but what would it take to get me there? I’ve got way too many other things to do that are more important than running another marathon and at my age I’d be lucky if I didn’t hurt myself from the training alone since I’m not exactly in stellar shape.
I love running and it makes me feel good. One thing I’m taking away from Grandma’s is all the stupid aches and pains that I’ve accumulated in the past few months (shoulder pain and runner’s knee) have mysteriously vanished. This has happened to me before after longer distance races and I’ll take it as a sign. And a win, even though it wasn’t the win I was hoping for.