Slowing it Down

I relapsed two weeks before Jersey City.

I’ve been sober 7 years, with two relapses thrown in. My recovery journey hasn’t been perfect, but I’m a happier, better person when I’m sober. So I keep trying.

I was disappointed, sad. Coming down was brutal and left me thinking it would be better if I wasn’t here.

Needless to say I assumed my marathon was wrecked.

When the two day hangover finally cleared up I focused on shaking out my legs, running with friends, getting myself back out on the road but not pushing at all. Luckily I’d done my 22 mile training run the week prior so despite the damage I’d done I still had a full training block behind me.

My entire goal was to start slow, something I never do. I get caught up in the excitement and before I know it a full 8 minute mile is behind me and I’ve drained the energy I’m going to need for the final push. For Jersey, my whole goal was to run the first mile at 11 minutes.

I failed. Miserably. But I did run MUCH slower than my previous marathons. 9:58, and then settled into a pace between 10:30 and 9:30 for 20 of the next 26 miles. I’ve never managed that type of consistency. I was thrilled.

I bonked on miles 25 (11:40) and 26 (10:41) but found a bit of a push for the last .6 miles and brought it down below 10. It was my second fastest marathon, a minor miracle given where I was two weeks prior. If I’m capable of this with little interval training, a relapse, and an intention to slow myself down, I know the next PR is just around the corner.

And then there were all the friends who helped me get there.

The teammates who told me to be PROUD of myself after my relapse rather than embarrassed (you sobered back up immediately, you’re staying committed to your marathon, you’re out here getting it done despite feeling awful, their words of affirmation really were everything).

The friends and teammates I ran into all along the track, on the train ride over, the coaches on the sidelines looking for me, Patryk and Audri Odedina, the Big Dogs themselves, waiting in the final stretch, videoing me, screaming, telling me to SEND IT.

For someone whose family has never shown up for them, realizing how much my community is willing to show up for me now was almost too much to take. Sitting here days later it still chokes me up. Gratitude doesn’t even begin to cover it.