Groundhog Marathon 2014

It’s come, and it’s gone – Groundhog day, that is, and the Groundhog Marathon in Grand Rapids with it. The questions have started rolling in – as I figured they would. “So, how did it go?” “What was your time?” “How was the course, the weather, etc..?” Long story, short……I didn’t finish. I withdrew after only one loop on the course (4.4 miles.) For some of you that may be enough information, for others (who want more details) keep reading.

To say that yesterday wasn’t what I expected would be an understatement. J and I followed a traditional marathon training schedule with our 20 miler happening three weeks ago with a gradual taper afterward. We had been running both indoors and out in order to prepare our bodies/mind for the cold. The temps didn’t seem to be too much of an issue, and we had run in snow (with Yak Tracks) several times.

The groundhog day course was described as a 4.4 mile paved park path with beautiful scenery. They were hoping for some snow to add an element of fun. Sounded all well and good to us…..Needless to say, this winter has blessed us with more than a “little” snow, and with a snowstorm that rolled in on Saturday, the path was adequately covered Sunday morning – and not just covered, the snow drifts were up to 18 inches in some places! They did not plow the path at all, yet, being at the back of the pack, most times, we were only running through 4-10 inches of snow at any given moment. 

Having heard some of the pre-race comments, I had prepared myself mentally for a more grueling course than expected, so as thoughts of doubts came up, I pushed them away, refocusing my mind on the prayer cards in my hands. 

Unfortunately, the amount of snow slowed our pace so much so that we were being passed up by other runners quite frequently. (And because the trodden path was so narrow, we got pushed into the snow banks when they wanted to get by quickly as their shoes slipped on the slush and many nearly lost balance – there was much bumping into one another….) The repetitive motion of being pushed up onto the right side of the trail and my leg sliding back down under me from off the uneven elevation caused a pull in my outer quad before the first mile marker. I attempted to compensate by keeping my legs more evenly under my body, but this caused more intense effort on the part of my calves as my ankles twisted and tugged with the sliding motion. We hit mile 1 after 20 minutes, Mile 2 after 45. My body ached, and I was seriously starting to deal with some self-doubt. This is not what I had signed up for!

I was starting to notice that my right calf was aching each time it slipped off the edge and back onto the path, and by mile 3 (after 1 hour 15 minutes), I was experiencing sharp pain with nearly every step (yes, by this point, we had slowed to a hiking pace). I couldn’t stand the thought of quitting! I hated that it was even becoming an option. To quit is to fail, I don’t care how much pain I am in! 

At the beginning of the race, the director had announced that anyone could drop down to a half-marathon distance if they decided they wanted to. This thought also crossed my mind. At our current pace (which I couldn’t really go faster without risking even more damage to my already injured calf) we would never finish the 26.2 miles in the time allotted. So even if I pushed to finish the mileage, I may still not finish. Should I drop down to 13.1? What would people think? How would I describe what I did? And that was still failing to me. 

J noticed that I was in pain. I asked him what we should do. We talked. We prayed. The thought of having to explain this all to everyone was overwhelming. By this point (mile 3.5) many of the racers were now walking. Elite runners were making comments about the course, about their time (one runner stated that she wouldn’t finish the first loop in the time she finished her last half marathon). Many were considering dropping down to the half or dropping the race all together. We plodded on while we considered our options. As I prayed, I realized that my focus should not be on what other people would think of me, but what would God think? Would I let him down if I didn’t finish? Would I disappoint him if I withdrew from the race? What was our ultimate purpose in this marathon, anyway? Was it not to lift other people up to the throne of grace? Grace: undeserved favor…. I definitely wouldn’t be deserving if I didn’t finish. 

It only took a couple more times of the sheering force on my ankle and calf to make the decision for me. I asked J if I could be honest with him. At mile 4, I made the decision that I should not try to complete another loop for the risk of a more permanent injury. This was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever had to make. If you know anything about me, you know that not completing a goal is one of the worst violations of my personality. My heart was breaking. I knew at the same time, I still wanted to be there for my husband, and I didn’t want my injury to hold him back. So I gave him the freedom to complete what he felt like he should. As we crossed the lap line, (at 1 hour 48 minutes) I informed the director that I would be withdrawing, and J decided to cut back to the half marathon. 

J crossed the finish of the half at 4 hours 22 minutes (He finished his last half in 2 hours 27 minutes – if that tells you anything about the course) . During that time that J was continuing to push through the race, I was continuing to push through in prayer. I still accomplished the purpose we started out with – everyone who made it on my prayer list was lifted up to God despite the circumstances.

I struggle now, even as I write this – all I really wanted to do, post-race, was to crawl right down in that hole with that groundhog and hide out for the next six weeks. I’m embarrassed. I’m hurt. I’m frustrated at the circumstances. I deal with questions, and tears come. Sure, I could have taken a “shrug it off” approach… “It’s all good. I’m fine.” But that’s not being real. Or I could have taken a “woe is me” approach and just sulked about the conditions. Both would have been easier than admitting the truth. But this is what I’m called to, and in the midst of this, I realize another truth……

God is still sovereign. He knew exactly how this race was going to play out before we even signed up for it. He knew how difficult the training would be. He knew the weather conditions (he controls them, go figure). And he knew about my injury before I even knew I’d fall in love with running. And I can rest in the fact that he is in control, he is not surprised, and his grace is sufficient. And I am convinced – even if I cannot see it right now – God is cultivating my heart even through my perceived failures. 

If you have made it this far, you are a true friend! I thank you. Thank you for listening. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for opening your heart to mine. And I ask for your prayers now – pray for me as I go forward. Pray for wisdom. Pray that God would be glorified. And pray that I would ever pursue Him more fully! Soli Deo Gloria!

 
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