“The truth is, everyone (marathon) is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for.” 
-Bob Marley-

On December 7th 2013, I ran the Reggae Marathon.

THE GOAL

Going into the Chicago Marathon last October, I knew that my race would be subpar due to an injury and a very short training cycle. So, I quickly looked for a race down South and found this great little marathon, the Reggae Marathon, in Negril, Jamaica. I approached my SO with the idea of a one week vacation in December, for us and DS. The answer was a firm:  "Please, stop. We can't afford your destination races anymore for a while. Can't you race locally?" But I had prepared my case well... "But honey, it will be our 25th anniversary next February. Why not celebrate it now? And think of DS who will be seeing and experiencing a new country... So much for him to learn there!" DH can't resist arguments like that. So I quickly booked us a lovely and simple little hotel on the beach in Negril, before he could change his mind. Sometimes, you gotta act fast. 

My goal finish time was sub-3:30. 18 weeks of training with Pfitz 55/70, a weekly average of 59 miles in those last 18 weeks, another marathon 8 weeks earlier, and a half-marathon another 3 weeks before that, a 1:14 10 miler in training, an 18 mile LR at 7:55 pace. Everything seemed to indicate I could reach my goal. But for some reason, I wasn't facing the fact that I was going to run in a Caribbean country and that the heat would be part of the game. I thought I had chosen a fast race, based only on the info that the course would be flat and not crowded. I am dumb. However, 3 days before arriving in Negril, I checked the weather and saw that the temperature the day of the race would be 77F at the start, and 86F at my predicted finish time, with a humidity of 87% and a feel like of 108F. That's when I became a little concerned about my goal finish time. Being a very reasonable runner, as you all know me , I re-adjusted my goal to 3:32/3:33. In retrospect, it seems like too little of an adjustment. Also, I had this grand strategy... Why not run the first half a bit faster, while the temperature was cooler, so that I could afford to slow down in the second half, when the heat would hit me. A positive split... How brilliant! I could totally see myself doing something like that. 

JAMAICA

My music will go on forever. Maybe it's a fool say that, but when me know facts me can say facts. My music will go on forever."

-Bob Marley-

Jamaica is a land of music. Not only did it give us beautiful reggae, it also gave us ska, dub and rocksteady, among many other genres. And it greatly influenced punk rock and rap. Music flows in the veins of Jamaicans. They also have a very flavourful cuisine, a beautiful land of beaches and mountains, amazing coffee, a delightful language which is a mix of patois and singing English, and finally, and unfortunately, rampant poverty. We had seen poverty before that, in other countries, but here, it's created a slightly more violent climate. The poor stealing from the poor. Gangs stealing goats from the local farmer. So sad... But that's certainly not everywhere, and we had a wonderful time touring the region and talking to people. We never felt unsafe anywhere.

We arrived in Negril, the capital of casual, on Thursday night. Our hotel was the cutest place ever, with some of the warmest staff we've ever encountered.

The next day, we walked two miles on the beach to get to the hotel which was hosting the tiny race expo and I was given my bib, shirt and a nice bag with the marathon logo. I had brought with me 20 pairs of used running shoes (yes, I did write twenty ) to donate to young girls, as the race website had asked of the participants. Twenty beautiful and much loved Asics Noosas, DS-Racers, DS-Trainers and a few very bright pink Newtons. Most had only felt the touch of my TM belt, they had never been on concrete or pavement. I had washed them all, the way Jay had recommended. They seemed to glow at me in the donation box, when I gently placed them inside. Goodbye, my loyal friends. Silly how we become attached to old shoes... But I'm glad they found a new life in Jamaica.

I spent the rest of the day on the beach, relaxing in a lounge chair, while DS and DH played ping-pong and chess.

PRE-RACE 

I was asleep by 9:30 pm and slept well until our wake-up call at 3:45 am, the next morning. No time for coffee or breakfast (I ate a protein bar on the way), a free shuttle was picking us up, along with other racers and spectators, at 4:15 am. The start (and finish) was about 3 miles away. It was pitch black, and I could feel the humidity already. The temperature was about 76F. Once at the start area, I found myself in the company of 209 marathon runners from around the world, 613 half-marathon runners, and 852 10k runners (many of them from Jamaica. They have fantastically talented runners). Some of the marathon runners were old Rastas, dreadlocks and all. So neat! :-) The lady on the microphone welcomed people from Italy, Sweden, Finland, Germany, the United Kingdom, France, Canada, the United States, Costa Rica, Hong Kong, Mexico, Luxembourg, South Africa, Belgium, Poland, Austria, Paraguay, Peru, Trinidad and Tobago, and a few more places... I love running in the company of people from other nations. I know it sounds stupid, but I feel it's the closest thing I will ever get to what seems like the Olympics. As if we all represent our respective countries in this challenge. You know what I mean?

Just before the start, a torch-lit ritual of Rastafarian drummers blessed the runners. It was surreal.

Seconds before the start, as I stood under the stars, my eyes locked on them, I asked myself what the purpose of this race would be. Not really a goal race anymore, no a training race like Chicago had been... It would be my last race of the year. I needed a purpose, a theme. It's like I could sense the way it would end and a purpose given by me before the the start of the race would help me swallow my disappointment. It felt all very fatidic. Words from the great Marley came to me. "Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds". (from Redemption Song) That's it. I was going to seek redemption for myself. It seems ridiculous now.  But I felt a bit afraid of what was to come, of how I would react and I was asking the stars forgiveness for the arrogance that I frequently display in my running. Ya, man, I need a shrink bad. 

When the gun went off, I started running with the help of my ears, instead of that of my eyes. In the near total darkness, with my weak eyes (I'm still refusing to wear glasses...), I could barely see. I could certainly not see my splits on my garmin (and that's the truth, I swear :-)).

Sometimes, under lampposts here and there, I could see how far I had covered and the total time and do a quick calculation. I was pleased with myself as I thought that I was keeping about 8:00 pace and that was what I wanted. Unfortunately, I was a bit off and I think it cost me in the end. You tell me what you think, please. Here are the first few splits:

At mile 2.9:  7:45 pace.

At mile 5.8, 7:41 pace.

At mile 9.5, 8:05 pace.

The sun was now up, and I could finally see my garmin. But the temperature had increased, and with no wind at all, I found myself already drenched in sweat, and not yet in direct sun even. And the temperature was still rising and the sun would soon make its full appearance... I was becoming more and more worried... There were water/gatorade tables at every mile and the volunteers were all very energetic and helpful. They were not serving the usual paper or plastic cups, but instead, plastic bags which I would tear with my teeth. I was so glad that I had decided to go with no trace of makeup that day (I usually wear lipstick. I know, I know... it's stupid...). Actually, I went without makeup the whole week in Negril. So liberating! Not that I wear a lot of it usually, but still... No makeup at all was like going completely naked for me. In the heat, I just felt fresher this way. Anyway, not important...

When I approached the 13.1 marker, there was a fork for the runners. Going right meant running another 50 meters or so before the chute for the half-marathon and 10k, while staying left meant continuing on with the marathon. The sun was high by now. I was not feeling in control of my pace anymore, I was slipping. And I couldn't tell what would happen to me. I had never run for so long in such heat. I considered for a moment going right. 29 marathon runners that day did the same and took the way of the HM chute. 29 on 209, that's how it was... A volunteer at the fork, an old Rasta gentleman, was checking our bibs to direct us in the correct direction. When he saw mine, a look of surprise, and delight, appeared on his face, and he said "Come this way, marathoner!" I heard spectators gasp in admiration.  They must have been thinking "how insane to run in this heat". haha... Everyone else around me was going right for the half-marathon finish. I wanted to say to the Rasta gentleman: "Surely you're kidding me and you meant to send me the other way, right" as a joke, but he had his hand up to highfive me and I didn't want to let him see that I had been debating giving up. In fact, without the support of the spectators and volunteers, I would have giving up 10 times. They kept me all smiling, waving and sometimes even laughing. Like when one guy shouted to a (black) girl in front of me (she was not running the marathon, she was in the 10 or 21k) "Go, girl, go!". Then he turned to me and shouted "And you go, white girl!" I don't know why, but it made me laugh... 

I waved and highfived a lot. When I see my race pictures, I shake my head in disbelief. It is sooo unlike me. In real life, I'm a mean snob and I don't highfive people. It must be the high of the endorphins that make me act, and look, like such a fool. (Speaking of which, I smelled pot along the course more than once. That smell, mixed with the smell of jerk chicken cooked at sidewalk stands, and the smell of sewage in some parts, all of them marinating in the sun, I swear I could have vomited right there if I had tried to take a gel or a sip of gatorade. After mile 10, all I could make myself ingest was water...)

Some views of the course (as you see, it was not all that pretty. But the people there were so kind hearted. That's what counts the most for me)

A jerk chicken stand.

At some point, though, we had a view of this and it made it well worth it for me, at least visually. 

Back to my splits...

Crossed the 21k mark in 1:45:07, on pace for 3:30 exactly. But my pace for that last mile was 8:30. Not good. I picked up the speed a bit in the next few miles.

At mile 16, 8:09 pace.

At mile 18.9, back to 8:30 pace.

And then the descent into hell started for me...

At approximately mile 21, I was mentally falling apart. I guess that's what we call the wall? I had never experienced anything like that. I have walked in the past, but only because some part of my body was in pain. My hips, my back, etc... And it only happened in the last 2 miles, when it has happened at all. I have not walked at all in most of my recent races. I can even drink and run, now.  This time, I felt no pain anywhere. The mechanic was good, the car was working fine. However, the tank was empty. And I mean, COMPLETELY empty. Mentally, I felt like I was nothing more than a piece of garbage by the side of the road. I was shuffling, but my heart was racing at a 100 mph. I felt nauseous. I didn't care about finishing anymore. I started walking at mile 21. I forgot to say that I was aware at that moment that I was 4th female overall and that there was prize money handed to the top three overall females and the top 3 overall Masters as well. I knew I had a chance at the Masters category. $500 for #1 winner. $250 for #2 winner and $100 for the #3. I had seen the lead women and none of them looked over 40. I had a chance at the $500 prize... But when I saw a woman pass me, I didn't react. "Let her win", I thought. Very unlike me. I thought of Jay's words recently. Something about feeling sorry for other runners while we all share the same pain and misery. The bond between all of us. I suddenly understood what he had meant by that. I was no longer feeling cocky. I was praying hard that someone was feeling sorry for me.  An old Japanese man, with a big camera around his neck, said in accented English "Don't give up!" I smiled and continued to walk for another minute. Then I thought about when I stand in a pool. How I submerge myself quickly to avoid the discomfort of the cold water. And like that, with no more than a second after that thought, I started running/shuffling again.

At mile 22.6, 10:13 pace.

I ran a very slow mile, then I stopped again. I was trying to find a way to convince myself that not giving up would be all worth it for me in the end. But I couldn't find a reason. My goal was out the window, my finish time would be horrific anyway. I had WALKED, for heaven's sake. The horror! (hey, I'm joking ) What was the point of all this? Then I thought of my baby sister, my only sibling. On Wednesday night, the day before my departure for Jamaica, she had informed me that she has thyroid cancer. She will have her thyroid removed on January 29th and will be put on hormone replacement. If the cancer is aggressive and has spread, she will face chemo. My sister is 45. She has survived child abuse, heroin addiction and depression. She battled them all with courage and in her 30s, came out victorious. She and I are like one medal, two sides. She is the believer, I am the doubter. She is forgiveness, I am vengeance. She is tolerance, I am judgements. She is all brain and heart, I am only brawn. She is my bright side. Without her, my past makes no sense. I thought of her and my heart swelled up. If she could face all these things with grace, what were 4 little miles of shuffling for me? How could I even consider giving up like this? I started my slow march one more time, and this time, I did not stop until the end. I was slowly passing men who were walking. I sort of whispered feebly "Let's go" to one of them and he reacted to my call, but without a word. He later came to thank me, after the race. I crossed the finish line a little bit ahead of a lady dressed in what seemed like a Muslim running attire. She was a half-marathon runner. I cannot imagine what she must have endured out there, dressed like that. 13 male marathon runners would cross the finish line immediately after me, before the arrival of the next female marathon runner. She came in almost 14 minutes after me.

When I looked up at the clock, I saw 3:46:38 and I suddenly felt the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. All this exhaustion, and for what? A finish time so far from my original goal... I had failed mentally, I knew it in my heart. But at the same time, I felt relief at having made the journey, relief at having just survived. I had survived with my other comrades. How ironic that I had had a conversation about ultra-running here, recently, with some of you. At that time, I had flippantly dismissed ultras as not being real races, because runners see each others as support, instead of competition. How wrong of me to have looked down on this, how arrogant...  In Negril, I had not run an ultra, I know. But although I was prepared physically for 26.2 miles, mentally, this race beat me to a pulp. Just like I imagine an ultra can do to its runners... I was dependent on other runners, and spectators, to give me whatever mental support they could give me.

Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs;

No,  I did not redeem myself through this race. Running marathons does not erase sins, of course. Only through one's actions can redemption be had. I think? But I do know that I was humbled by this race, and in the end, a little dose of humility was very good for me.  I think I learned a few things. I'm not sure what the best strategy for those conditions would have been, what pace I should have gone out with. But I know that I was not trained properly, in a mental way, for something like this. I like to boast of my training on my TM, but this time, the TM failed me. Maybe if I had done a few 20 milers in 86F temperature, I would not have collapsed mentally like I did in this marathon, my 13th.

A race photographer asked if he could take a picture of me with my medal and I let him do it. If I look old and tired in this picture, that's because that's what I was. I felt, and looked, decomposed. I truly felt the years on me.

Soon after, I met with my son and SO and we walked to the beach, where I took my shoes off and went into the water. I washed myself off of this race and decided not to let it ruin my time with my loved ones.

Not long after that, I heard my name called on a microphone. I had won third place and $100 in the Masters category and was given a trophy, while standing on a podium. Woohoo! Hey, things were not so bad after all! Forget all that sappy account of the race. I was RICH!  Turns out that in Jamaica, people become old at 35. Since the overall female winner was 36 years old (she finished in 3:00 by the way, and was from Finland), she also won 1st place in the Masters category and won $500, on top of the $2000 she had won for first place overall. The #2 winner in the Masters was the woman who had passed me while I was battling the walking demons. She was 44 and finished in 3:45. And guess what? She was from BROSSARD, QUEBEC! A town 10 minutes away from mine, and, also a French-Canadian woman! It made the disappointment completely go away from me. I was so proud to be standing on a podium with the overall female winner and another Canadian (French-Canadian!). She shook my hand and I congratulated her with a huge smile. The sweet Finnish woman hugged me. I swear I could have cried right there, I felt so happy and emotional and honoured. Must be hormonal. I'm so screwed up.  I hope to get some pictures of the award ceremony in the coming days.

SO took a few pictures after the award ceremony, then we walked back to our hotel, on the beach,  with my bare feet in the water. It was a gorgeous day. I was finally enjoying the heat. :-)

SOME NUMBERS 

Finish time: 3:46:38

13th marathon since May 2010. 13th BQ.

4th worst finish time after marathons #1, #2 and #3 in 2010 and 2011.

5th female overall.

3rd place in Masters category (over 35). 2nd place in the 40-49 (but no awards given for AG)

209 runners in the marathon, 29 did not finish it.

Out of the 180 runners who finished the race, 70 of them finished in a time between 5:00 and 7:43:57.

The overall winner was Jamaican. He finished in 2:40. His closest competitor finished in 2:56 and was from England.

The second (34 years old) and third (27 years old) overall females finished in 3:28 and 3:39 respectively.

I leave you with some pictures of our trip. Jamaica is worth seeing if you want to see the real world as it is. Beautiful and challenging. It is not Disney, but it is filled with heart, music, delicious spicy food and amazingly attractive people.

This boat was too appropriately named for me not to take a picture of it.

This river was filled with crocodiles

A market

Selling drugs is illegal by law and punishable, but pot is sold everywhere in Negril. But selling magic mushrooms is legal, from what I heard, and it is made into tea and brownies. No, I didn't try them.

These ladies are selling fruits to the man in the boat. People try to make a living however they can. This is why I could never judge the beach vendors who were so persistent when I was walking down the beach. At the end of the day, they have to feed their kids, just like the rest of us.

One afternoon, we heard thunder just above us. My glasses shook on top of my head and I swear that my hair moved. I thought I had just been hit by lightning. I almost ran back to the hotel in a panic. My SO was laughing at me hysterically. 

I have no idea why such a place of decadent pleasures would appeal to good, law-abiding Canadians. 

This man was washing his clothes

And some sappy pics...

We grow old.

They grow tall.

And they give you granddaughters. (not from the trip, but this picture was taken a week before that. I thought I'd slip that one in.  February 10th is the big day.)

I plan on making a runner out of this one. (the coffee is for me, to help me keep up with her )

And meanwhile, when I was vacationing, my sister replaced me at work (I own a daycare). She smiled and cared for the children as if they were her own (she is single, with no children). One of Bob Marley's three little birds, that's who she is for me. She always makes me smile.  Please send her a good thought if you can. She is a wonderful human being. I'm lucky to call her my sister.

Lily, you did not get your goal, but SO WHAT? You are a super star! The heat and humidity must have been completely unbearable and you still had the fortitude to finish. I may have been reading between the lines too much, but I get a sense that this event became more than just a race and your goal. Believe me, I am a competitor like you, but when you wrote about your sister and not quitting, high-fiving, donating your shoes(you even washed them!) and the rest... WOW! Racing and meeting your goals is fun, yes, but I suppose it's just a small part of our lives. What an inspiration you are.  Forget this race but remember the experience, you'll get it next time.

Thanks for for a great RR.

I loved this RR and all the photos. I know you're disappointed, but congratulations. 3rd place masters! Woohoo! I think you should've gotten an additional award for best abs. Dang, girl!

I don't think you depleted your glycogen.  I think you ran too fast for the conditions and overheated.  I have done that on more than a few training runs and when it happens, you walk and you don't have a choice.  Any running sends your heartrate through the roof.  So you walk.  And you walk until your body cools down.  And you might start running again but it won't be anything more than a jog.  It's even worse when you aren't acclimated.  What you have to do is slow down from the start.  When I do a tempo run in hot weather, rather than trying for a 6:30 pace, I go for more like 6:45.  When I ran the Wrightsville Beach Marathon in March, 2012, it was 61 degrees with 100% humidity at the gun.  I was hoping to run sub 3:05 that day but readjusted my goal to run sub 3:10 and I ran slower from the start.  I saw what happened to those who didn't.

I saw my first walker at Mile 15.  At Mile 24, there was a runner who was almost two minutes ahead of me and I beat him by nearly a minute.  He had just completely blown up.  I saw plenty of 20 and 30 minute positive splits.  Fitness level has nothing to do with it.  Slow down some from the start or slow down a lot later.

Thanks for sharing Your RR, it was beautifully written. Sorry you missed your goal but it does sound like you did get some thing from your experience.

Ive ve been to Jamaica but never really ventured out of the resort.  They are truly a happy group of people.

I've enjoyed reading your RR to Legend, by Bob Marley. Sublime!

I'm actually glad to see you're not invivncible (don't take it the wrong way). I'm kinda glad you're not as perfect a runner as you sometimes seem. I also think it's good to be pushed so far mentally and that it will make you a better runner in the long run. And indeed it is a highly respectful time as Damaris said, as it got you 3rd Masters woman and 5th overall. Congrats on the prize money too.

Last, I wish your sister all the best to be strong in the face of her challenges. And to your daughter, all the best for impending montherhood!

Tonight I lit a candle for your sister, and will remember her with positive thoughts as time goes on. Thank you for sharing such a beautifully written RR.  Your talent for running endurance is matched by your artful use of language...amazing!  Even your photographs communicate the depth of your experience... and, wow, what an incredible learning opportunity for you, S.O., & D.S.!  Success & failure, losing & winning, sorrow & joy, all so relative and yet all so bound together.  Your "slow" time was 8 seconds faster than my best ever marathon.  Congratulations, Julie, on completing what may be one of your "best" runs!

Congrats Julie and very entertaining RR. Nice touch to fly all those shoes with you, very cool.