“Band-Aids don’t fix bullet holes”: Making Sense of Bittersweet Race Results
Figuring out what lessons to take away from a race can be difficult, especially if the race result wasn’t black and white. I hope that recapping my 2024 Chicago marathon with a critical eye (and critical distance) is useful for anyone in that boat.
The marathon feels like a lifetime unto itself. Last year’s Chicago Marathon had three distinct eras for me: the first 15 miles, which felt great and were super fun, miles 15–19, which started to feel like real work, and then the final 7 or so miles where I fully descended into the pain cave (honestly, more like dropping down an elevator shaft).
The last several miles were, without a doubt, the worst I’ve ever felt while running. But I did run a 12-minute personal best. This juxtaposition still makes me a bit uncomfortable: if I imploded on the back stretch, can I really say I ran a good race, even if it was a PR? When people ask me how the race went, it feels incomplete to leave out either of those pieces of information. They’re contradictory but inseparable.
My fueling was dialed in, and my pacing was right where I wanted it. My heart rate never got problematically high—in fact, it was lower than my previous marathon, in which I was able to significantly negative split—and I never cramped. In other words, my problem wasn’t execution but preparation: my legs simply didn’t have the juice to run my goal pace for the full 26.2.
I spent the training block building my mileage back up after a spring injury, so I got curious and calculated that my total mileage in the 16 weeks leading up to the race was actually less than the year before, despite a much faster finish time. This suggests that my aerobic fitness came back quickly after my time off, but my muscular endurance was lagging behind. Although I had increased my mileage during the block as fast as was responsible, I simply couldn’t compensate for the mileage I lost during the time I had to take off.
It’s a good reminder that success in running—whatever that means to you—is a relatively slow and steady process predicated on consistency over time. Getting deep in the weeds planning out precise carb and sodium intake, or overanalyzing shoe choices, are secondary concerns that become truly important only after making sure the backbone of your training is solid. As the great poet Taylor Swift says, “Band-Aids don’t fix bullet holes.”
Chicago 2024 reminded me that despite my best efforts, things don’t always go exactly according to plan. And like all races, it was an invitation to demonstrate mental toughness on the day and to think critically about the results afterward.