Greetings from rainy Southern California. It is cloudy today, but it was gorgeous on Sunday, so let’s talk about that. I do want to give you all a head’s up that I am writing an article about the LA Marathon due later this week which will include a deeper perspective on the race itself, its history, and my history with it, and all of Los Angeles, but in case it doesn’t get published, and since it’s Tuesday, and a few of you may be wondering what happened to me on Sunday, I will gladly share some highlights and lowlights of how marathon #54 went down.

First off, lining up in the A corral was AWESOME! The criteria for that position was completing a marathon time of 3:15 or below, which thankfully I earned in New York with my 3:09 and change.

Honestly, I went into this race believing another sub 3:10 was possible. The marathon time I was chasing was our family record of 3:08:24 that my brother Tim recorded at the Marine Corps Marathon, (I believe?), many years ago. However, shortly after the gun went off, when we took a left turn to run up the slight uphill through the parking lot of Dodger Stadium, the goal of a sub 3:10 started to fade, runners were passing me, and my legs felt “off.”

Miles 1-4 were fun. The sun was shoving out as much light as it could for us on an especially early morning due to the time change, as we ran down through Chinatown and Little Tokyo in downtown LA. I was comfortably clocking sub-7min. miles, hanging in with the 3:05 pace group, and enjoying the crowd. I felt lucky to be back to racing, and was feeling good, but then the first ogre on the course appeared, the daunting hill leading up to the Disney Concert Hall in between miles 4 and 5.

I was not surprised. I knew this hill was coming, I’d run this course four times, but for some reason it pricked extra hard this time.

I lost touch with the 3:05 group before we made the turn to run up the hill, and never saw them again the rest of the race.

Miles 5-10 were a mix of nagging uphills, rewarding downhills and endless false flats as we meandered through Echo Park, Silverlake, and into Hollywood.

Around mile 9, I started slowing down.

My right leg started to ache, which was odd, especially since my left leg usually acts up, and was recovering from a slight groin strain it suffered the week prior, but my right leg is usually a champ, so I was surprised it was flaring up. Still, I kept my effort as consistent as possible, but once I passed Western Blvd., I was barely hanging onto 7:15min. miles.

Thankfully, I was jolted from my stupor while running along Hollywood Blvd. just before Vine St., when I heard the swift pitter-patter of my fellow TeamHPB teammate, Rachael, pop up behind me, and her cheerful voice say, “Hey, Taryn!” This was Rachael’s first marathon, and since she is an exceptional runner, and has an exceptional coach, I knew she would have an exceptional race, and seeing her cruise by with such a fast and efficient gait confirmed my assumption, “You’re doing great!” I yelled back to her as she ran up ahead and quickly out of sight.

Rachael went on to finish in 3:06…. That is an EXCELLENT time for any marathon, but it is especially impressive considering it was her debut marathon on a challenging course.

Simply incredible.

My speedy teammate, Rachael Robnett post marathon finish. Photo courtesy of Rachael Robnett.

Miles 11 - 15 were a blur of pain and confusion. I really had never felt so terrible in a marathon before, and was confused as to why? Any then it hit me, Oh, right, you haven’t done this in a while. And, you’ve been anything but consistent in training the last month, or rather the last three months, actually the last six months. Who are we kidding? The last year has been a total shit show. So, yeah, this hurts, because marathons hurt, racing is hard, and YOU need to practice racing more than most to race well, it took you 15 years of racing marathons to run under 3:10, and, um, you haven’t been racing. So, yeah, this is going to hurt because you started way too fast, your legs were not prepared for that, OR the hills, they’re pissed off that your mind is way too stubborn, and went into this race with no sensibility, you did this to yourself, so suck it up, and just keep moving forward until you reach the ocean.

After we dipped down to Sunset Blvd., I was clinging to sub 9 min. miles.

My back was tightening up, and my legs shortened their stride to a minimal range of motion that resembled that of a race walker more than a runner. Unsurprisingly, I was nervous that my toe was causing all of this. It wasn’t hurting, but it felt stiff, and then I felt a flood of guilt that I was putting it through needless strain to achieve another selfish goal. Then I relaxed knowing I had run a ton in training, and my toe handled those miles just fine, what was going on? Should I stop? Would that be the smart/correct choice not just for today, but for tomorrow, and beyond?

I didn’t know what to do, but my legs kept upping their protest, so somewhere along Santa Monica Blvd, I stopped to walk.

Then I started shuffling again until reaching mile 20, which is the start of a long, annoying uphill on Sepulveda Blvd. to Wilshire, a part of the course I had previously viewed as the Promised Land, but not today. After I made the turn, just a few steps into the hill, I stopped, and stepped off the course onto the sidewalk. I was sore, sad, confused, and wrestling with how I was going to get to Marion who was waiting for me at the finish line? I was done, I wanted out of the race, or more accurately, my long, slow Sunday slog through LA, but then I remembered I needed to retrieve my phone from gear drop off, so I might as well keep going.

I stepped back onto Sepulveda, and started to run.

Miles 22 - 25 were filled with embarrassing bouts with my ego, as I knew I would see a handful of my TeamSFQ teammates somewhere along San Vicente Blvd., the gorgeous tree-lined street that covered the final stretch of the race. The road grades slightly upward through mile 23.5, and then blissfully careens downward past mile 25, where we make our last turn on the course onto Ocean Blvd. in Santa Monica.

Somewhere along San Vicente I accepted that this was my last marathon. I resolved that my body couldn’t handle them anymore. My heart was broken, yet serene, because I felt satisfied that I’d done enough; I’d run enough, and at one point in time was able to run well, but that time had passed, and I needed to move on.

I ran through the finish line completely numb. Next, I grabbed my bag from the gear check, called Marion, hobbled over to him, cried a little on our walk to the car, then settled into our drive back over the hill to where the morning really began, the Valley.

About halfway through our drive I realized my foot didn’t hurt. It was stiff from the KT tape protecting it, but it hadn’t given out on me like I assumed on the course. My legs and back were another story. They were not happy, but I suddenly was.

Obviously, the race was not at all what I wanted it to be, but it was exactly what I needed it to be.

I needed to be smacked in the face by the only thing that would get my attention, a marathon, to get the message across that I need to make some changes if I want to keep competing, and I do.

Somewhere along the 405 freeway, in fact it was right before we drove onto the 118 on ramp, I let go of the pressure to get back to, or improve on the fitness I was in at the end of 2018, and acknowledge that a lot has happened since then; I am a different athlete now, and need to accept that it’s okay to start where I am today verses where I was then. I am not just talking about my age, 40, there are many women faster than I am who are much older, but more that I have been living the endurance lifestyle for nearly twenty years, (this was marathon #54), and my body is starting to show some wear and tear.

Clearly, I’m not invincible, but I certainly do not want to stop, which means I am finally willing to make some adjustments in training, racing, and my overall POV as an athlete in order to keep living the life I love so much.

Therefore, I am moving forward with my current schedule, (it was up in the air before the marathon), which means next up is racing Ironman Oceanside, 70.3 on Saturday April 4th, followed closely behind by Ironman St. George on Saturday, May 2nd.

In the meantime, I am slowly recovering from Sunday’s romp through LA, my legs are still sore, but are loosening up minute by minute, and even though they won’t tell me, I have a feeling they are counting down the days to run another 26.2.:)

The song and video choice this week could not be more spot on for how I felt running the marathon on Sunday, Celine Dion’s epic tune, “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now.”

You’re welcome.