go meg mo.
Written on the day before the 2024 Tucson Marathon while sitting in Starbucks. Yeet.
I feel like my lungs have peanut butter in them. Every run this week has felt like my respiration is operating at 60% capacity. I am sniffly (so snotty as one would tell me) and sleeping 10 hours a night plus naps. I am telling myself I am not sick, that I shouldn’t test for anything, that feeling this way is not an excuse not to perform. I just wish I felt ready. Does anyone ever feel ready?
I think some of us do. We have bought into our fitness and accepted where we are. I think most participants in running generally fall into this camp. I have been blessed with being really fit and fast before, which sounds great until you get to race day five years later not in that shape but longing for how fast you used to be. I know I am not there despite the work we’ve done this build and the effort I feel I gave everyday. I know I am not there despite how healthy; I am ironically the healthiest I’ve ever been in my running life. I know I am not there and tomorrow will hurt just the same as it did in 2019 when I ran 2:41. I know I am not there but also so grateful to be here at all. I think it’s ok to want more out of myself while still recognizing that it will take me at least 3 marathons to get back into fighting shape. It’s not an excuse, it’s reality. I have a different body this time that has taken some getting used to. I have different habits that have freed me from the cages of what I used to look like and be. I am trusting a different coach and lack the teammates I had at other periods in my life when I was naive enough to believe I could run fast too. All these things I wouldn’t trade (ok…I miss Chelsea and Bailey but I have some great new people who also fill me up with the same happiness) but also take some adjusting.
When I started running (walk-jogging) again 6 months ago, I was 15 pounds heavier and starting at zero. Literally zero. When I got my diagnosis and injury, I stopped putting effort into fitness and used just enough movement to feel joy. I figured my body needed this and 6 months was plenty of time to get into shape. Well I am in better shape than 6 months ago for sure, but I really am looking at a year for my body to completely reset after the pelvic fracture, and then another year of racing and training to even get close to punching in my weight class. Let me be clear, I love my body and am so fucking proud of it. I also know my body and what it can do. I know this strength inside me waiting to be accessed, it’s just taking some time.
I think we all love stories about people who go from injury to winning a race in 6 months because it gives hope. Hope is a vicious drug. Hope is what breaks your heart. Hope is all we have. I may never run as fast as I did again. I will likely experience other illness and injury again. It is hope that I hold secretly in my heart that those things are not true. Hope and belief that doing the right things, not getting too caught up in media or the details, will allow me to enjoy my capacity to run fast.
Tomorrow I do not really think I will run fast. However the past three days I have started cultivating hope and gratefulness that eventually will tip the scales wherein I will enjoy whatever happens. Because I am here. I am healthy. I am running for a person who means so much to me and I await the day we can run together again.
For now, don’t cheer my name. Yell GO MEG MO. I will hear you, and so will she.
Written the day of the Tucson Marathon, 6 hours after the race.
9 months ago I couldn’t let myself dream I’d run a marathon again. I was far too broken, mentally and physically in a place I didn’t know how to get out of. I didn’t think I’d let myself put my body, my bones, through anything like this again. I love running but I will not let it destroy me.
I started walk-jogging 6 months ago. I remember the first day at my parent’s house when I was visiting to watch my childhood best friend get married. I needed a vacation from it all. From Boulder, from sports, from Skratch. From everything that reminded me how it was extremely possible I’d never run at a high level again. I was in need of normal people, who live lives not based around exercise, to remind myself that I would be ok if this were my fate too. I wasn’t happy about it, but there are worse things. I needed to be reminded that I would be ok. I needed to see my 92 year old grandmother who has never exercised a day in her life but I still believe she will outlive me. I needed to see my beautiful sister and best friend and crazy family who somehow function without a constant need to get their endorphins through movement. Though I know I will always choose that drug, I needed to know I would be ok if that were not an option anymore. I will be ok, we’re all gonna be alright.
Today I ran 2:49 at the Tucson marathon. Eight minutes slower than my PR, but so much healthier than I’ve ever been. I knew my fitness going into this race wouldn’t be mind-bending, but it is the best I have right now. Running a 2:49 provides a base to build upon. It says, ok yes you can run fast, maybe not the fastest, but there is something here worth cultivating if it makes you happy.
The first 18 miles were excellent. I felt like I was running the effort I wanted and though it was not easy, it felt like a tempo. This course is net downhill, which I knew so I didn’t send it. However, I have not really run downhill in training. Especially not on a road. At mile 18 I started to feel my quads disliking the continued downhill. By mile 20 I was in a pretty bad game of “is this going to cramp? if it cramps, should I walk or slow down or what?” I slowed down (if felt like a lot but not as much as I assumed) simply because my quads were not really responding to anything except the feeling of stabbing with each footfall. With 6 miles to go I looked at the words I had written on my forearm. Go Meg Mo. Do not be afraid. I might have to slow down to a shuffle, but damn I am here and there is nothing that would stop Meg right now. I pushed, head down a few more miles and then when I looked up I saw the second place woman (first place was already drinking at the finish line by that point). Fuck no I have to catch her. Did I really have to catch her? No not really but fuck it I am taking the next few weeks off so why not really season my quads? I caught her with 1 mile to go but had no gas left in my legs so I just tried not to give up. I ended up ahead of her by a few seconds, and just over 2:49 by the same amount.
A day I am happy with. A day to build on. A day to be grateful for.
Stats so I don’t forget!
Pre-race dinner: avocado and BBQ tempeh tacos, chips
Pre-race breakfast: chocolate pb Kodiak oatmeal, blueberries, extra PB and tea
Race nutrition: 1 gel every 4 miles plus one extra with 3 miles to go and water
