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A. Lapierre

A Change of Surfaces

Growing up in Burlington I traveled to and from school, sports and social activities up and down the roads and bike paths where a majority of the VCM marathon takes place. I have so many vivid memories from childhood rides to the beach on my one speed red Schwin bike, to trips to the corner market for candy and slushies. As I became involved in organized sports I remember running predetermined road loops for soccer and then running to the ice hockey rink to help get extra cardio in before hitting the ice. I've run the paths and roads of Burlington in every sort of weather imaginable. I've found joy and frustration over the miles, and neither the city or myself have stopped surprising me.

It is hard to believe that it has been 12 years since I last did a road marathon. My running journey really started by training for the Vermont City Marathon so it was special to return to this event in 2016. On January 1 of this year I found myself in a new job working at RunVermont as the Director of Youth Programs. With my new position I never imagined I would be able to participate in the marathon, but was fortunate enough for the first time ever to see both sides of the race. I could have never fathomed the hours, teamwork, volunteerism and passion that goes into this race. It honestly leaves me speechless and makes me proud that our state has this great event.

This year, unlike my race day 12 years ago, I would not taper and I would not kick up my feet the days prior. This year I from an athletic standpoint ,I would be using the marathon as a training run and from a work perspective, a learning experience. In other words race day was also work day. I had live interviews to talk about the youth programs that were in full swing and got to highlight the 72 youth participants and their volunteer coaches who were running relay portions of the race. This all helped keep my mind occupied as I was focusing on making sure the youngsters and their coaches were ready to go.

Before I knew it I was tucked behind Jack Pilla as we worked our way into the start pack for the National Anthem. My hope was that he and I would be on the same pace so he could help me stay consistent and calm. As we all stood behind the start line I began to panic, there were so many people in and around the race. Could I really run a road marathon in 3:10 - 3:15 comfortably as a training run? Luckily before I could melt down the race started and we were off charging. Each time I saw one of my fellow RunVermont staffers I detoured over to give them a high five or cheer. As Jack and I made our way through the downtown streets the sun was taking no time in warming up the pavement and the runners. Within 4 miles a runner collapsed on the side of the road with heat exhaustion, it served as a warning to check my pace and to focus on hydration.

It didn't take long for me to realize that unlike an ultra there wasn't much talking, and there wasn't stopping at aid stations or the walking of hills. Jack and I conversed now and then, and I cheered other runners on. I got some strange looks, but I didn't care, it's part of my personality wanting everyone to succeed even if that means they finish in front of me. Eventually one of the female elite runners blatantly asked "Who are you?" I had to laugh, because here I was in my trucker hat and trail shoes and without thought responded "I am an ultra trail runner". I asked if I was bothering her and she let me know that she thought Jack and I were great. She thanked me for the positive energy confessing that it was helping her.

As the heat continued to increase the locals came out with their garden hoses, popsicles and frozen sponges. I drank everything that was offered. Around mile 16 this over hydration became an issue as I could tell I had an electrolyte imbalance. Way too much water, no salt and even though my legs wanted to keep pace with Jack my stomach told me otherwise. Jack charged ahead and I hoped that I would rebound and catch him further into the race.

My calm thoughts of "get him later down the road" quickly turned into panic and thought the wheels were coming off. I had run the first half of the marathon in 1:31 and now had internally convinced myself that if I dropped below an 8-minute mile I would drop out. I felt like I was crawling and looked at my watch which had my pace at 7:20. I thought "Ugh crap I have to keep going!" I tried to pull myself together. With a popsicle handed to me from my cousin as I rounded a corner at mile 19 and a frozen water bottle from a neighborhood spectator I was able to regroup in time for a more shady section of the course.

I was finally on the Burlington Bike path which is the final 5-6 miles of the race. There was no thinking needed. I have run this path so much I know all the distances from one street to the next and how far that street is from the finish. A mile closer to the finish line I saw my father cheering for me and this gave me the courage to continue. I could see that he believed in me and my ability to finish the race. I really had no reason to quit besides being uncomfortable. In retrospect I realize that a majority of the discomfort came from being nervous and intimidated. I wasn't giving up so I glimpsed at my watch and realized that my target time was still very obtainable. I had to want it and because of the heat and humidity had to work a little harder than I had mentally planned for it. All and all everything still remained calculated and within training effort, which was important.

As I got closer to the finish line I only felt stronger and stronger. My leg turnover increased, I started catching and passing people and I found myself getting excited. As I entered the last section I started giving as many high fives as I could. I ran from the left side of the finish chute to the right side of the chute and then back over again. I crossed the line in 3:07 and was proud that I stuck with it despite my internal doubt.


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