I can’t believe it’s already been almost a month since I ran my 4th Boston Marathon! There hasn’t been a day since the race where I haven’t thought about what happened, which is why I need to get my thoughts down on paper to reflect, assess, and move forward.
Leading into Boston I had my best marathon training cycle to date. I was truly prepared to run 5:59 pace and I had my race plan documented mile by mile – something I’ve never done before for a marathon. I analyzed the terrain, watched course preview videos, and looked over elite data from previous years. I couldn’t have been better equipped to execute my plan.
When the gun went off, I was calm and cool – ready to do what I had simulated so many times in my training runs. In the first few miles my pace was a little hot, but because of the terrain I had accounted for some tolerance in my mile splits. 5k – right on, 10k – you’re doing great, 15k- you’re still on track, 20k – oh no, not again!
When I ran Boston back in 2017, by mile 8 my legs were trashed and my goal quickly changed to “finish the race”. This year at mile 13 it happened again. My quads just stopped working the way I needed them to. Between miles 15 and 16 my back, hip flexor, and lower core were spasming on the downhill, and breathing became difficult. By mile 17 I was in my husbands arms on the side of the course hyperventilating and internally begging him to tell me “it’s okay to quit”. This was the low of my race. Then my husband did exactly what I needed him to do – he told me that I have to keep going, and to “forget about the last 17 miles and just go run a 9-mile race”. These aren’t the words I was looking for at the time, but they were the words I needed.
Those last 9 miles are a blur, but positive and negative moments stick out that I will never forget. From watching Scott Fauble lead the men’s pack past me in what felt like a drum beat rhythm to Peter Bromka passing me on the left, grabbing my hand and squeezing tight…this race brings on so many emotions. But honestly, the emotions were too overwhelming for me on this day. After completing most of my training runs in my own head, with silence all around, jumping back in a race with constant noise from the spectators destroyed me. There were moments where I just wanted to rip off my front bib (labeled HAILEY) and cover my ears. I’ve never felt this way before, which is why it’s so hard to write. I had feelings of hate for the race, which breaks my heart thinking about it now.
Reflecting back on everything that happened that day, I look back to a race day social media post that I had written: “no time was wasted.” I put so much time and energy into this cycle, practically making running a part time job, and I wholeheartedly believe that not one second of the time I spent training for Boston was wasted. Although my race was far from what I wanted, I know that it was just not my day and the race doesn’t reflect my current level of fitness. I fell at Boston, I fell hard – but I didn’t fall backward; I fell forward. I have a lot of goals ahead of me, and I’m ready to pick myself up again and start training for my biggest goal of all – the Olympic Trials.
