Race Recap: Gabby Tofig at the Philly Marathon 2021

Just get to Philly, and it will be fine. The week of the race, I was a bit of a mess, so I kept telling myself – just get to Philly, and it will be fine.

I just started checking things off my list. Pack, check. PT with Cuyler, check. Get to the train station, check. Make sure Robin gets to the train station, check. Talk to my coach, check. Get to Philly, CHECK!

My coach and I went through a series of things that I may need to think about on race day. We discussed running in 5k’s instead of autolap, which fit with how I had trained on my long runs. However, one that I had not thought of was what happens if I am confronted with a moment where I would have to choose between running 6:18s with a group or running 6:22s alone. I somewhat shrugged it off a bit – the goal was 6:25s on the best day possible, maybe slightly faster; so it was a good thing to have in the back of my mind, but not at the forefront.

On the day of the race, Sarah and Robin jogged to the start with me. I went over to the elite tent where I immediately felt out of place. Many of the runners had trained together and / or had some sort of sponsorship. I had showed up in my favorite rundown AOC sweatshirt and a pair sweatpants. I decided to keep my head down, warmup and listen to my music. Do not get in your head, you deserve to be here – or at least that’s what I kept telling myself. I looked around at the bib numbers, and tried to find women around mine. Everyone was planning to run 2:44-2:45, but wanted to start out conservative running 6:20-6:25s. I was planning that as my A goal pace, so this felt like the right pack for at least the first 5-10 miles, before they dropped the pace down. We head out to the start and I look around for friends. I see Kalli, in her Jordan jersey and I instantly feel a lot of relief and happiness. I turn to my left and saw Jack; we high five and then get ready. I am suddenly a lot calmer, and ready.

Miles 1-6.2:

The race starts and I decided in that moment to change my race narrative. “You enjoy this, so enjoy it. The alternative is misery, and that’s gonna suck for 26.2 miles. So choose to not let it suck.”. I hear my name over the first 1-2 miles, and start smiling and waving to my friends. One of the women in our group took off at mile 2, running 5:55s. I looked to the woman on my right, and we decided to hit the brakes a bit.

Click, 5k – 19:38

Just get to mile 6 and you will see Sarah and Robin. At mile 5, I knew I was feeling good; I had the legs, the weather and the energy around me to run a 2:47. I see my friends and prep for the hills.

Click, 10k – 19:42

Miles 6.2-13.1:

Rolling hills. I found out about 3 weeks pre-race, that they had changed the course due to the bridge closure. I thought through all the training I had done, and had deliberately done a lot of rolling hill tempos in Prospect and Central Parks – this shouldn’t scare me, so I didn’t let it. I was composed and didn’t slow; it felt like just an every day run.

Click, 15k – 19:26

The woman I was running with dropped off around mile 10 and I realized this was the moment Eric and I had discussed, I needed to make a decision if I wanted to keep pace at 6:18s with this new group of men, or run alone. The 5k’s had been fast, but I felt okay… I think? Okay, let’s do it – I hopped in with them.

Click, 20k – 19:28

Halfway:

Rounding the corner, I saw all of my friends: Kevin and Belle, then Scott, Ciaran and Emily, then Nico and Linda, and then finally I saw Robin, Sarah and Mahir. I look up at the clock for the first time, and it reads 1:22:26. This is roughly 2 min off my half marathon pr, and to my surprise, I didn’t panic. I felt good, and didn’t want my body’s ability to get interrupted by my brain’s doubts. I am ahead of pace, and I needed to remember that isn’t always a bad thing.

Miles 13.1-20:

I see Jack, Matt and Emily on the turnarounds; everyone looked great. Two of the men I was running with flew ahead but I just wasn’t ready to run 6:10s, and knew there was a hill in Manayunk I wanted to prep for. Running solo was going to feel hard with this much left in the race. I am suddenly very aware that this decision is going to either make or break my race.

Click, 25k – 19:33

I am saved, THANK GOD! I found myself running with this really great guy Glenn, and we started to work together. We started talking and the miles flew by. Around this point I started to become more aware of how many women were in front of me, due to the turnaround points. Any pain in my legs dissipated as I started to reel in two women. I could feel a sense of resurgence in my body… the final 10k stretch was right there.

Click, 30k – 19:54

Miles 20-25:

I see Kalli and Nico coming up the hill, and Nico’s energy gives me a bit of life to push the last 10k. I started to pick up the pace on the downhill, prepping for the inevitable pain cave and praying that it wasn’t about to kick in quite yet. I have a motto that I tell myself when I start to struggle, “run the mile you are in, because it is the only thing you can control”… so that is what I did. Mile 21, Mile 22 …

Click, 35k – 19:27

Mile 23, Mile 24 ... reeled in two more lead women.

Click, 40k –19:38

Just get to Mile 25; Sarah and Robin are there, you will see them soon. Oof, okay the legs are hurting and would very much like this to be done.

Before the race, Sarah, Robin and I had discussed embracing the pain cave – like I built this thing, now go live in it. All I could think of in this moment was that I was prepared to live in this pain cave and just think of this cave as a little vacation home for about 1.2 miles.

Miles 25-26:

I see all of my friends and my body takes in their energy. I decide to start running as hard as I can. It honestly felt like sprinting, but I don’t think I picked up the pace if I’m being honest with myself. I turn the corner at Mile 25.5, and see my dad and sister – they are screaming and telling me my place. Wtf is this, I have never thought about my “place” in a marathon, but okay I guess we are in this now, try to catch the woman in front of you. I looked up and it was the woman who left our group in mile 2. I solely focused on trying to catch her, as a way to trick my mind into getting up the final gradual hill.

Mile 26-26.2:

To my left I see Jen, and I attempt to smile as she cheers. Then I look up, and see the clock at mile 26 and it reads 2:43:08. HOLY S**T, HOLY S**T! I am sprinting, but the woman ahead becomes just out of reach. I am waved into the women’s finisher section, and cross the line.

Click, I AM F**ING DONE – 2:45:32.

I start to cry immediately. My body is in complete shock… did this actually happen? Did I start and finish a run without ending in a medical tent?

For context: I had struggled with a fractured left SI joint, that eventually lead to herniated disk in my right side. I blacked out in the last 8 miles of the NYC marathon in 2019, and couldn’t walk for 40 min post race. I couldn’t do that ever again, it was so mentally and physically painful. After finding out that I had a herniated disk, things had started to feel good and we were finally on the up, but then I fell on ice slightly refracturing my back, right before this training cycle had begun. If I ended up unable to finish Philly healthy, I was completely done running marathons, it wasn’t worth it – an honest internal assessment that I had only said out loud to a few people.

But my back was fine, and I was fine, and everything was fine. No medical tent, just a very sore person – all the strength and PT had paid off! I collected myself and finally wobbled over to the finishing area to collect my things.

I was overwhelmed with the texts from friends and became a bit emotional reading Sydney, Ryan and Kevin’s narration in our group chat. I hobbled over to my friends and family ready to leave. Walking slowly, we got back to the hotel and then headed out to meet our friends for drinks. It was all a bit of blur but I snapped back after hearing how my friends did in their races. Sara, Kalli, Jack, Matt and Emily had run amazing; there is nothing more you could want for your friends then their success.

Fast forward about 4 hours. The advil had finally set in, and I started to think about the race a bit. It was the first time where I thought maybe an OTQ was possible for 2024. It was also the first time I had a moment to reflect on my training. I worked hard, but not without the help of many wonderful individuals (a lot to name, but I hope they know who they are). I am not scared to say that I am really proud of myself. I have been very lucky to compete in sports from grade school to college to present day, and this was one of maybe three times I ever been able to say that it felt perfect and I had nothing more to give in that day. I wouldn’t correct anything, I wouldn’t fix anything, I wouldn’t have trained harder, I wouldn’t have walked a step less the day before – and that is incredibly satisfying to say.

One last reflection: Running is this mentally and physically challenging, fun hobby – I think we lose sight of that sometimes, when we are in the thick of training and living in a very booming running social media world. It is great to celebrate it, but when we lose sight of where it fits into our lives, the pressure can overwhelm us, thus removing the joy from the journey. I struggled with this throughout my college athletic career and really worked to have a healthy relationship with athletic goals and how it intertwined with personal life. This mentality was how I approached my training cycle, and while I trained hard, I think that was the reason the race went so well. I never wanted to resent running, and I never wanted to feel guilty for enjoying things that could “impact” my running. So, I never let myself – and I think it is why I enjoyed this marathon build-up more than any other

Back to reality – I hear my phone buzz and see a text from my friend Evan.

“148 days”.

I am suddenly very aware of how sore my entire body is. I immediately grab more Advil and go to bed.