Hi! If you’re reading this, you’re either my mum (hi girl) or one of my 37 followers who care about my journey as a middle of the pack marathon runner. Thank you so much for stopping by! I really wish that everyone shared my obsession with marathon lyfe. I’d probably find more running friends if I had strava, but since that app scares me, I have to give kudos to myself after every long run. Do you know how hard that is for an attention seeker? Thank god I have Instagram. I can force people who would rather die than run marathons to listen to me talk about the humidity during my pre-race shakeout. Ha ha ha suckerrrrs. Imagine if I couldn’t announce it to the world? There wouldn’t be any point in doing it. JK OF COURSE THERE WOULD! You know why? Because Boston Children’s Hospital now has another $135,600 (and climbing!) to tackle the mental health crisis in children. I still can’t get over the generosity of all those who donated. It’s why I bawled my eyes out at the finish. It made those 4am wakeups and hundreds of miles in the Florida heat worth it. I could go on and on but I’ll get to the recap because I know you’re all anxiously holding your breath….

Let's start with the week leading up to the race. My kids were playing host to their 700th pathogen of the year, and I spent the entire time dodging sneezes like a Jedi, downing every immune supplement known to man. I even wore a mask to put them to bed cause those little angels love to cough directly into my mouth as they drift off to dreamland. Thankfully, I made it to Chicago physically unscathed, but mentally I was illlllll. THE ANXIETY. Do you know how hard it is to choke down 500g of carbs a day when you wanna puke your guts up at the thought of toeing the start line? The last time I’d felt this anxious was driving to the hospital to deliver Ford, and we pulled over so I could puke on the way.

I think I was such a mess because I’d put a ridiculous amount of pressure on myself yet again. What if I didn’t finish and all of the people who donated wanted their money back? What if they were disappointed in me? What if I didn’t finish under 4 hours (who tf actually cares, Claire). When you spend so long training for something, and that training is really freaking hard, it’s difficult to feel like you don’t have control of the outcome. But I’d signed up for this and made a commitment, and dammit I was going to do everything in my power to give myself the best chance possible. So pound the carbs I did. Bagels, jam, OJ, Gatorade, and gummy bears. Over and over and over again. Absolutely foul after the novelty wore off. 

I spent the first day in Chicago on my own since Andy was in dad mode at home. I had a little shakeout run in the morning that felt shockingly good, went to the expo to pick up my bib (the vibes were STRONG), and then popped over to the museum to distract myself. By the time he arrived later that day, I was ready for the company because I was spiraling. Thank god he’s not my boyfriend and can’t just break up with me cause I’m crazy. We attempted a civilized pasta dinner, but I was so anxious that the only thing I could stomach was bread and ginger ale. Just like being pregnant again, my favorite! I somehow managed to fall asleep by 9pm, but my eyes sprung open at 3am and that was it. Up for the day and ready to roll. I quietly tiptoed around until 4:30, when I couldn’t take it anymore and woke up Andy. 

First order of business was room service. If you’re not aware of the runner protocol, it is VITAL to eat early so you don’t have stuff sloshing around in your guts for the first half of the race. You also need to try and take care of the other form of business, which I shall not talk about because I’m a lady!! Ok fine I will - nobody wants to shit themselves in a marathon - just ask Paula Radcliffe. Gotta clean out the pipes pre-race or you’re in for a wild ride. The hotel did me dirty by forgetting my order, but the lovely gentleman at the front desk took pity on me and managed to get me a cold bagel and coffee just in the nick of time. I was out the door at 5:45am and made it to Grant Park around 6am. There were thousands of runners everywhere and it was equal parts exciting and terrifying. I tried to chill a little, stretch my tight hip, and pee one more time before I needed to head to my corral at 7am. 

I thought my nerves would dissipate a little once I got to the corral, but I was wrong again. My HR was 118 just standing there! Standing! My mind was racing. Is that a tickle in my throat? Why do I feel hot when it's 60 degrees? I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!! And that’s when I was sent an angel. I heard my name and turned around to see a lovely stranger smiling broadly at me. A fellow Aussie who instantly made me feel more relaxed. We chatted about our previous marathons, his lovely wife and business partner (who were also runners), and their love of the Vampire Diaries. He offered to run the first part of the race with me, and man did it help. It was so nice to sync my steps with someone, and be distracted from all the craziness in my head. He pointed out the mile markers, made me smile for the photographers, and was a huge help when I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. If you’re reading this Jason, YOU ARE THE GOAT. At mile 6 he dropped back a little as he’d been recovering from an injury, and sent me on my way. 

I think the next 7 miles were the toughest for me. I was back in my head again, and the finish line felt really far away. My HR was a little higher than I wanted it to be, so I kept adjusting my pace and tried to stay on top of my nutrition (30g of carbs every 30 mins). I played little mind games with myself, only 4 more miles and you get to have caffeine, you’re almost at half way and after that you’re basically there. Anything I could think of to keep myself positive. The crowds were amazing and there were so many people cheering. Every time I heard my name it gave me a much needed burst of energy. 

My race strategy involved trying not to hurt at all for the first 13 miles, so I stuck to the plan and ran in a way that felt comfortable. There was a lot of ducking and weaving at the drink stations, which slowed me down more than I wanted to, but aside from that everything was going the way I’d intended. Andy told me his location was just before the halfway point, so I was super bummed when I got to mile 14 without seeing him. Thankfully he was just wrong (which he’s used to because I’m always right), and was screaming for me with his cute little finger pointer at 15. I planted a huge sweaty kiss on his face, and I pushed on. God, I love that guy. 

By the time I passed Mile 16, I felt really strong. I was checking off the markers and sticking to my plan, my fueling had been great, and I didn’t have any GI issues. All big wins that put me in a great mental headspace.  Another sweet runner from Mexico joined me at that point and asked if we could run together, which I was more than happy to do. I went a little “Coach Claire” on her (which she didn’t really ask for) but I was in the moment! Only 10 miles to go! That’s 5 miles twice - so easy. Stay with me! You look so strong, let's keep this pace! It felt good to pay forward what Jason had done for me at the start. I saw Andy again at Mile 18, bless his little legs for sprinting across to catch me. 

Once I saw the 20 mile marker I knew I was going to finish, and I had a chance to hit my A goal (3:45) if I really pushed. I’d cued up my playlist with a bunch of motivational speeches to start at this point in the race, and let me tell you they bloody worked. I felt like I was going to run through a wall. I started picking people off one by one, downing Gatorade like a hungover 20 year old who’d spent all night at a rave. This was my moment!! This was what I’d trained all summer for. I saw my pace dropping, 8 min mile, 7:45, 7:35. David Goggins had nothin on me!!! Andy tried to run with me at mile 22 but I told him to go away cause I had to focus. Sorry babe, I was in the zone.

Getting closer and closer to the finish line made me feel like Hercules. I thought about my family, I thought about all the kids at BCH. It was magic. Mile 23, 24, and 25 ticked by and I was overcome with emotion. I was going to finish this race and finish it strong. I rounded the corner to grant park and powered up the hill as fast as my busted quads would take me. There it was - THE FREAKING FINISH. I couldn’t stop smiling as I crossed in 3:44:14. 

Then the waterworks. SOBBING. Andy somehow convinced a security guard he was a race sponsor and found a way to meet me at the finish line (don’t do that at home kids but awwwww). We hugged and high fived and cried and I took pictures doing the weird hook em’ horns sign. I called my sis first, who had been a real rock for me during training (and during my eventful first marathon), then I called my Dad who is an Ironman and who I so desperately seek to impress lol. I hobbled out of the finish area, jumped in a rickshaw, and took a victory ride back to the hotel. 

I wish I could explain to you the feeling of finally reaching a goal you’d set and failed to achieve the first time. The feeling of working through A LOT of mental shit to get there. Of pushing yourself when you’re tired, or in pain, or burnt out. There really is something to be said for doing hard things. It’s actually made me think about parenting differently too. I don’t want to save my kids from the tough stuff, from struggle. I don’t want to rob them of the feeling of overcoming obstacles. 

All of this is to say that if a marathon is on your bucket list, DO IT!! It was one of the best days of my life. Now to take on my arch nemesis NYC….

C x 

Photo credit: MarathonFoto