Real David H.

I “quit” blogging several years ago for several reasons, but one of the biggest was because I no longer analyzed things. I gradually stopped caring so much about the “why” with so many things. I also stopped wanting to hear cliche comments from others whenever I posted something about running.

For other several reasons, I also stopped being interested in racing. From injuries to the pandemic to lots of things in life happening, my focus over the past several years has shifted to so many other things.

But no matter what, the Blue Ridge Marathon race weekend in Roanoke has always been a priority. It’s so important to me that I’ve even put a recap of all (now) 11 weekends in one place, so I can quickly relive the memories.

There have only been a few reasons I’ve missed this race — a couple of times because of injuries; there was one year where I thought I actually needed a break from it but missed it terribly; and two years didn’t happen because of the pandemic.

MORE THAN JUST A RACE …

From running this race to with friends, to co-workers, to being total solo, it’s now truly become a tradition to make it quick trip with my sister. The past four events in particular have been full of so many things outside of the event that helps fill up my soul.

We get to have a few hours in the vehicle by ourselves to talk about things that we don’t cover in texts or other quick calls. We’ve now made it an annual stop in Bedford to have an amazing chicken salad sandwich at Bridge Street Cafe. We get to see our grandmother (who is now 96!), our parents, and second cousins that we used to go years without seeing.

Then there’s also catching up quickly with race organizers that I’ve become good friends with, and occasionally meeting up with some friends I’ve only known on social media. This year we added a stop at Sweet Donkey Coffee before heading up to the Roanoke Star. My sister’s post below captures many of my pre-race thoughts too.

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A post shared by Heather Hylton Jones (@3thejones)

The connections and reconnections this race always brings is why no matter what happens, it’ll be on the calendar. It doesn’t matter if I’m feeling ready for those mountains or not.

SPEAKING OF THOSE MOUNTAINS …

For some reason, I never really felt excited for this year’s race, despite running a little bit more these past of months compared to last year.

My hope this year was to beat last year’s time, which had been a nice improvement over 2022. (2023 gets tossed aside with the storm issues.) My BIG goal was, quietly, to finally get my time back under 2:30, something I hadn’t done since my course record a decade ago.

I also had a two other sub goals: less walking on Mill Mountain and running harder down Peakwood. Those two things right there would be key to improving my time from a year ago.

The weather for the race was PERFECT. Low 40s and cloudy. Cool enough to wear some throw away gloves but warm enough to not worry about long sleeves.

I know from years past, that the first couple of miles can set the tone for the first half of the race. Once we hit the first big hill at mile one, it’s either walk a little bit or push it.

And I pushed it. For only the second or third time ever, I didn’t stop to walk all the way up to the Mill Mountain Star. I only stopped at the top to grab water and a quick selfie, and then to quickly figure out how hard to run down the mountain.

I held myself back just a bit, knowing I need to save myself for Peakwood. I ended up not walking at all until around mile 8.

I was doing a lot of analyzing once that journey began. I was well on pace to beat 2:30, and I knew I was ahead of the pacer for that time. But did I have enough training for it? I knew that the last 4 miles were the toughest and I still had the Jefferson Street bridge to tackle.

After getting to the top of Peakwood and grabbing a quick sip of champagne, I gave it everything I had coming down. I knew I was going to be close to sub 2:30 and this was the chance to try and get ahead of the pace for it.

But it turns out, I ran it too hard. When getting to bottom of the last major decent, the course turns to go back up a hill, and my hamstrings were angry.

I didn’t have to come to a complete stop but I knew my “all out” effort was done. The 2:30 pacer passed me between mile 11 and 12, and I just couldn’t keep up. I kept her in my sights but at the top of the Jefferson Street Bridge, she became a blur.

I have no regrets though. I did what I planned on doing and wouldn’t changed a thing.

I came across the finish line in 2:32, more than 7 minutes faster than two years ago and 14 minutes faster than 2022.

I saw my uncle at the end, feeling relieved to see a familiar face. My sister wasn’t too far behind me, so we got back over to finishing area to see her crossing the line to set her second best time on this course.

To sum up my running part of this weekend, I can simply say that I’m satisfied. I immediately have thoughts of what I could do to be better, but if I dwell on them, I know I don’t really change anything.

PROGRESS …

Progress isn’t linear. Progress is also sometimes unexpected. In just two months last year, I went from being happy about this race to being injured and barely running in the summer.

My focus immediately shifted to just being healthy enough to do it. And I did … and I got better at it despite me allowing a lot of negative thoughts in.

I really want to get back to 2:20-something for this race. Even if it’s 2:29:59. But I don’t want my focus with running to just be on this race for the next year. I have to figure out a way to move my mind from it and focus on other things, somehow.

For another day or so though, I want to soak in this experience just a little bit more. This event and all the things that happened in the hours before and after, ARE worth dwelling on. Progress can also wait.