The Third Time, is ...

The Kalamazoo Marathon has beaten me twice.  The first time, it wasn't even a fair fight.  Does anybody really do well on their first marathon?  Well, it humbled me.  The second fight, I knew what to expect, trained harder and went into the fight overconfident.  Result?  Let's just say embarrassed.  This third time, it is going to be the charm, it has to be!

I'm due. It's just expected that this will be the attempt where the curse of the Kalamazoo Marathon is lifted off by back and I finally walk away with a victory against it.  What should happen and what does happen are two different things entirely.  Here's this year's story.

The week before the start, I'm actually afraid.  I do admit the first time, there were a ton of nerves.  The second time, calm and cool, even cocky.  This time, maybe it's the looming showdown, maybe it's the taste of two defeats in my mouth, but I've got a bad feeling about this run.  It's silly really.  Same course, a distance I just did a few weeks ago, there shouldn't be anything to fear.  But with running, so much is mental and to top off everything else working in my head, my arch enemy the heat is back in town.  My last two runs prior, both ended at four miles.  Not because I was tapering, but because I was dead exhausted from the heat.  It takes weeks to adjust to temperature increases, this Spring took it's time getting here this year, and suddenly there has been a thirty degree swing and it feels more like Summer.  This is going to be ugly.

Standing at the starting line, my phone probably felt like it ran a marathon with as often as I had checked the hourly temperature predictions over the past few days.  I've made some many race plans, none like this one though.  The plan is simple, survive.  Let's see how this works, errrrrrrrt goes the start horn.

The early miles were easy.  Not because I was feeling great, but because I was too damn scared to run any faster.  It's an unsettling feeling worried if I'd still be running after four miles, when I know there's twenty-two miles to go.  Reaching five miles felt like a victory.

At mile ten, I was still moving and upright.  There might be something to this slower pace stuff.  There were also some familiar faces cheering for me, which helped build even more confidence back.  Miles thirteen to fifteen flashed back memories of the previous marathons.  Both times, it was in these miles I started to feel the tell tale signs of the up coming struggles.  Yet, I'm still moving.  Maybe, just maybe this running slower to avoid overheating will actually sneak defeat from my nemesis.

Then, it happened.  It started as a simple brain impulse to walk a quick second to catch a breather.  A few other runners seemed to be doing the same thing.  I thought it would be a quick pause, then back to it.  Once I started again, I knew right away that I had put in motion that what I was most afraid of, defeat.  While I had done better than I thought I would up until this point, from here on out, the last ten miles weren't going to be pretty and they weren't going to be the charm I had been hoping for.

At mile twenty one, the smiling CT caught up with me.  While she wasn't on pace to get what time she was hoping for, she was still looking good.  She offered words of encouragement, even offered to finish with me, but this has become my struggle.  I sent her on her way and told her I'd see her at the end.

The final miles brought more familiar faces, though it didn't make it any easier.  I crossed the line a little slower than last year, but still a little better than the first year.  At least I seem to be consistent on this course.

As for next year, I'm not sure what to say.  Part of me feels like I'll give it another try.  Another part of me feels like it's a battle against a bully that I'll never win.  But I do know, the third time is NOT the charm!