![]() If you love something, there is always a chance it breaks your heart. And sometimes you have to let it break your heart. (There's definitely a better way to say what I mean here, but with my back against the wall to write this post this is the best I can come up with) November 4, 2018 was going to be my day, I felt it. The weather was perfect, the training was complete and there was nothing left to do except run 26.2 miles through my favorite city. What happened on the streets between the Verazzano Bride and Tavern on the Green was not what I expected. Goals a) a 3:37 marathon - a guaranteed PR b) a sub-3:40 marathon c) a sub-3:45 marathon d) a PR (anything faster than 3:48:16) were not met. At mile 18 when I realized a goal that I believed was in reach was no longer going to be accomplished, I was crushed. More than crushed. Heartbroken. I felt I let myself and everyone that donated to my V Foundation efforts down. I had just seen my mom and Tom at mile 17 and I knew I'd see them again at 25.5 but with two bridges and the Bronx left, it felt like an eternity before I would finish. I ran a 3:59:21 on a beautiful sunny day in my favorite city. Mentally I went into this race stronger than ever. Physically I felt as good as 2016, when I PRed. This was my sixth time racing these streets. I had showed up to the workouts, the long runs and everything in between. I don't look like a runner, but I have dedication and the drive of one. I was proud of the work I put in for this race. The knowledge of the course was the only reason I finished sub-4, a HUGE accomplishment. I wished I wrote this post closer to when the race ended but with eight weeks to look back on it, I felt like this is the right time to express my feelings. It is humbling to have something you love let you down. I know a marathon cannot let you down, only my two legs can, but man I felt betrayed by my favorite race. For the first time the 59th Street Bridge felt like the wall everyone talks about. And I felt betrayed by my body when both my vastus medialis pulsated and cramped in the last 10 miles. I tend to cry during the end of my marathons, they are emotional roller coasters, but I had never spend the last two and half miles crying like I did in November. However, I finished another marathon in my favorite city and the weekend once again confirmed that New York looks it best on marathon weekend. Enough with being sad about how the day finished. Here's the real story of the WHOLE day (weekend). 52,705 runners crossed the finish line on Nov. 4 in Central Park. Each one with their own individual story of their training, their support system and their story of the picture perfect day in New York City. I personally knew about 10 of us in the world's largest marathon and that is pretty cool. I'd like to give you a bullet point condensed version of how things went for myself:
The race didn't end as I wanted but my friends and family who were in the city or who texted, called, FaceTimed made the weekend worth it. And seeing as this is the last day of 2018 and in a bad transition, that is my lesson from this year. The people you love and who you share your time with are what is really important. The road is a long one and nothing makes it better than having people to share it with. Life truly is a marathon, not a sprint, so make every mile count but don't forget to feel - including the heartbreaks. Thank you, New York. I'll see you in 2019.
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Megan FloodMegan is 29 and a 14-time marathoner. She is hoping to Boston Qualify one day. She doesn't know exactly how this blogging will go, but she is giving it her best shot! Archives
June 2019
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Marathoning Megan