I learned many lessons from the virtual marathon last Saturday, February 6:
- Waking up at 4 a.m. for a virtual marathon felt silly and ridiculous and foolish. I had to keep reminding myself that I had chosen to proceed with a virtual race to raise funds for the food bank when the Death Valley Marathon got canceled.
- Fundraising is hard. It’s easy to ask people for money, but it’s a very vulnerable feeling to put yourself out there to say, “This cause is important to me. I hope to raise X amount of funds. Please support me and the cause.”
- People are generous and kind. Donations trickled in slowly at first, but as of today, 21 people donated for a total of $1,434.70, enough to provide over 4,300 meals to the hungry. That blows my mind. I’m still waiting for the total to update and I am leaving the fundraiser open until the end of February in case anyone else would like to contribute and/or create their own fundraising teams for the virtual Brea 8K (sign up and run any day in February!), so donate here if you want to push the total over $1,500!
- Running a virtual marathon is hard. Any marathon is hard of course, and I knew a virtual one would be difficult, but I didn’t know just how difficult. I had run a virtual half, and that was challenging but manageable. The full 26.2 was torture. I didn’t realize how much I would miss the support of volunteers and spectators. Thank goodness for the random people who saw me struggling and called out “Good job!” or “You got this!” The Santa Ana River Trail follows a gentle, overall downhill grade as the river runs to the Pacific Ocean, but it has several underpasses (which means a lot of mini hills along the way) and some bridges.
- My family is the best. My husband Mike woke up at 5 to drive me to the start, and later brought two of my girls to the finish to meet me and go for gelato to celebrate.
Here are some photos with a brief description of how it went.
Mike and I arrived at the start around 5:50, but the gas station we were counting on being open was closed. With no porta potties or gas station bathrooms in sight, we had to drive all the way to another gas station. We ended up starting at 6:30 (technically the trail is not open until 7 a.m. — shh! It was all for a good cause!)
It was chilly at sunrise and Mike was freezing on the bike in spite of his gloves. I warmed up quite quickly running at a 9 minute per mile pace.
Even after the sun came up it remained chilly. Lucky for me, not so much for Mike.
Just before the 9-mile mark, Mike handed off some extra Gatorade to me and he turned back to go to the car. I felt great at this point and continued to feel good until the half marathon point. That’s when it got hard, as it usually does in any marathon. You’ve put in a lot of miles by then and still have that same distance remaining. It got harder to keep up the pace.
I enjoyed running through the fog as I listened to podcasts. Many cyclists shared the trail with me, and I saw a few other runners and some dog walkers.
I love the artistry of this bridge! The trail is beautiful and there was plenty to entertain me along the way. I spied many birds — pelicans, egrets, herons, and turkey vultures!
I started to struggle around mile 18, and by mile 20 it was a full struggle-fest. While I tried to fuel properly along the way, I suspect the beginner marathon training plan I had chosen (because who wants to train harder than that during a pandemic?) simply did not put enough miles on my legs to sustain me at the pace I had attempted. My legs turned to lead, and I walked for a bit while I tried to get some more calories in.
I managed to pick the pace back up into the 12-minute mile range when I told myself the faster I ran, the faster I would be done, haha! Plus, my family was on the way to meet me at the end and I didn’t want them to have to wait. I also reminded myself (again) of all the people who had donated to the food bank, and how I had committed to run for the cause.
I felt better at mile 25 than at mile 20, so that was good news! I could see the finish, and knew I was going to make it if I simply kept on trucking.
And this was the view at the end! After 4 hours 31 minutes, I was so happy to be standing on a bridge over the river, looking at the ocean as my kids and Mike ran to hug me. They helped me walk to the car, and whisked me away to Fashion Island for gelato.
I felt really great for the rest of the afternoon. As usual it was hard to get walking after any rest (sore quads and hamstrings) but Mike said I looked better than I had after many other races. And I ended up being a lot less sore than usual (which only makes me wish I would have been able to push a little harder on the course).
So, marathon #10 is in the books! I’m glad I did it and I’m glad it’s done. I have a credit that I can apply toward the 2022 (!) Death Valley Marathon, but at this point I am not sure I want to run another marathon. I do need to get on some sort of training plan soon for another adventure — trail race, century ride, hiking trip — because it’s the training I enjoy and that keeps me sane.
One last reminder: donate to Second Harvest Food Bank of Orange County here!
by Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to run Boston with an official bib and a major player in the push to get the women’s marathon into the Olympics in 1984. (Such a #runnerd, I’m tearing up again thinking about it!) Let’s all just take a moment, man or woman, to thank those before us who have helped advance the sport of running. And of course, one of those people is Boston Marathon director Dave McGillivray, author of 
. I’ve listened to him speak on a few podcasts and found his stories to be very inspiring, so I can hardly wait to read his book.
and 
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Fit Fun Mom 