It has been 4 weeks since I raced at the 2020 USA Olympic Trials Marathon and the time between now and then seems like eons ago. It seems trivial to even talk about my race considering everything the world is facing right now. There are people out there fighting for their lives and most people’s day-to-day lives have been completely upended. The uncertainty is what seems the scariest to me right now, but I find comfort in the thought that this will not be our forever. Now more than ever, we need to come together and be there for one another.
While this is all scary and unprecedented, there are always silver linings. We have the opportunity to spend more time with our loved ones, more time finding the beauty in nature, and more time to reflect on what we are grateful for. Focus on these things and remember that you are stronger than you think. And if you need some distraction from what’s going on, read on 🙂
While my race itself feels like a lifetime ago, my emotions and thoughts are still at the top of my mind. Crossing the finish line at the trials was a moment that I dreamed of every single day for the past 4 years. Throughout those 4 years, I did everything in my power to make myself a better athlete, runner, and person. I encountered countless setbacks and failures, and many times, felt broken, both physically and emotionally. But I think that without those obstacles, I wouldn’t be who I am today. On February 29, I didn’t line up with hopes of making an Olympic team, I lined up with a grateful mindset that I had simply earned my spot on the start line, to compete in the same race as the best marathoners in the country. I looked around and saw runners I’ve idolized for decades and soaked in the feeling that I was among them. I feel so humbled and honored to have been a part of such a monumental race. I spent the past four years dedicating myself to the pursuit of this one goal. All of my choices revolved around what would increase my chances of getting on that line. Lots of people couldn’t comprehend why I would choose to sacrifice so much for one day, one race, one moment. I have found that it is the chase of big goals that makes me feel most alive and I have had the privilege of doing that for the past four years.
Back in 2016, I signed up to run the Philadelphia Marathon in hopes of breaking 3 hours. I finished in 2:56, setting a new personal best by over 11 minutes. I was ecstatic, but as most runners know, once you reach the top of one mountain, it seems like you always see a taller one to climb. I slowly convinced myself that qualifying for the 2020 Olympic Trials wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities; I only had to pr by 11 more minutes 😂! I had recently moved to Winston-Salem, North Carolina where I joined my boyfriend who had just been hired as the women’s distance head coach at High Point University. In the first week that I moved, I met a local runner named Donnie Cowart. I didn’t know much about him and I remember finding out from someone else (he is way too humble to talk about himself) that he had just finished 8th at the 2016 Olympic Trials in the Steeplechase and had also finished 4th in 2012! He was taking some time off from training, which ended up working in my favor because he did a lot of my runs leading up to the Philadelphia Marathon with me. His relentless positivity was contagious, and I was constantly inspired by his attitude towards running and life. I think a lot of my success from the Philadelphia Marathon came from being around him and soaking in his belief that I was capable of whatever I set my mind to. If you haven’t already guessed, I soon asked him to coach me, and I have had the privilege of working with him ever since.
At the beginning of 2017, after working with Donnie for not even three months, I set a 5k personal best. I was gearing up for a big half marathon in July, and was so excited for what I thought I could accomplish. Unfortunately, I got a little carried away with my training, and wasn’t communicating fully with my coach about how I was feeling, which led to me getting diagnosed with a sacral stress fracture in April. Up to that point, I was one of those runners who had never really been injured. I had maybe taken a week off here and there for a niggle or two, but nothing significant had ever really impacted me. That stress fracture was the beginning of an almost 2 year span of not being able to stay healthy. From torn quads and tendons to strained hamstrings and adductors, I was a complete wreck. I didn’t run a race longer than a 10k in 2017 and was in a pretty dark place emotionally. By the beginning of 2018, I had a few months of solid training and decided to race a half marathon. I surprised myself and ended up setting another PR by over 4 minutes. I was thrilled, but injury came knocking on my door once again. By that point, we had discovered the secret of cross-training so I started spending a majority of my time on the ElliptiGo and in the pool. I finally got healthy by the time summer rolled around and we decided to go for my first Olympic Trials Qualifier (OTQ) attempt at the California International Marathon (CIM) in December of 2018. About three weeks out from the race, I did a tune up half marathon and, yup you guessed it, strained my hamstring. In the last couple weeks leading into the marathon I probably ran a total of 15 miles and had no idea if I would even be able to finish the race. Race morning was perfect, with temperatures in the low 40’s and zero wind. Once we started, I felt amazing and came through the halfway point about 30 seconds under qualifying pace. About a mile later, my left foot started feeling weird and by mile 18, I felt like every step I took, I was breaking my ankle. I somehow willed myself to finish that race, but missed the qualifier, running a 2:50. In those final 12 miles I managed to tear the peroneal tendon in my left foot (long story short, make sure you practice running in your race shoes)! I had to take almost 8 weeks off of running, but by the end of February was slowly starting to get back into the swing of things. We decided we were going to give it another shot in June at the Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth, Minnesota.
While I stayed injury-free in my build-up for Grandmas, most of my training was done in the heat, and it took a toll on me physically. It was a struggle to hit the prescribed paces on my workouts, and I went into the race without the full confidence that I could run under 2:45. By 10k into the race, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. The pace felt far from relaxed, I was hot, and I couldn’t seem to get enough fluids in me. I thought I could still muster a PR, but I ended up missing it by 7 seconds. I failed…again. We still had one more shot. We decided to sign up for the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon in November and CIM in December as a backup, just in case something popped up in our build-up. Sure enough, about 5 weeks out from Indianapolis, I had one of the best long runs I had ever had, but tweaked my adductor in the last couple miles. We scrapped our original plan and decided to take the extra 4 weeks we would have for CIM, to go in healthy and in the best position possible to break 2:45.
Before the start of CIM 2019, I stood on the start line with the most confidence I have ever had before a race. In my buildup, I ran the fastest workouts I had ever run with the most mileage under my belt. I truly believed this was going to be my race. In a marathon, the first half of the race should not feel hard, and as I passed the 10 mile mark, my quads felt tight and I knew something was off. By halfway, I was already off goal pace and my quads were getting more painful with each step. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, but knew my goal was slipping away by the second. I finally stopped and cried at mile 21 knowing the dream was dead. Those final miles were a death march and I finished ten minutes slower than my goal. I thought that my marathon journey had come to an end. As I mentioned earlier, Donnie is one of the most positive people I have ever met, and he convinced me that he still thought I could do it. Spoiler alert: this was the first of 3 marathons that I would run in a span of 3 months. If it weren’t for him, I can say without a shadow of a doubt, that I would not have qualified for the Olympic Marathon Trials. We had 6 weeks left until the qualifying window closed, and we were going to give it one last shot.
Due to the damage my body had endured at CIM, I only ran a total of 103 miles in the 6 weeks leading up to my next race. Instead of running, I spent hours and hours sweating on the ElliptiGo and staring at the bottom of the black line in the pool. The Houston Marathon was already sold out, which was a flat race with a lot of fast women, so my only other feasible option was a tiny marathon in Warner Robins, Georgia: The Aviation Marathon. As race day approached, I felt I had about a 5% shot of qualifying. I had raced the worst marathon of my running career 6 weeks prior and knew that it was going to take everything within my power for me to break 2:45.
Donnie decided he would pace me for the first 20 miles, so I had the comfort of knowing he was going to be right there with me. Our first few miles were slow and I was already thinking too far ahead. Once we started speeding up, I started to worry about how long I could maintain our pace, but Donnie kept reminding me to just “be in the moment,” and focus on one mile at a time. We hit our fastest split of the day at mile 10, and from there, it was like an angel was pushing me along. We were running close to 6 minute pace and I felt great. But the marathon is a grind and by the time mile 20 rolled around, I had really started to hurt. At that point, it was clear that I was struggling, and Donnie turned to me and said he was going to stay with me until the finish (HE IS A SAINT). Without his encouragement and presence that last 10k, I really don’t think I would have made it. I also kept thinking about someone who I had just lost, Andy Tamer, my boyfriend’s father, who was one of the best people I have ever known. Somehow, I did it. I qualified for the Olympic Marathon Trials the day before the window closed with only 5 seconds to spare. Those first, few moments after the race are hard to put into words. To share that moment with someone who believed in me enough to run a freakin’ marathon with me was one of the best feelings in the world and I will treasure that day and that moment forever.
As incredible as that feeling was, the realization that I had to run another marathon in 6 weeks was a bit daunting. This would be my third marathon in a span of three months. Would I be able to do it? Would I be able to stay healthy? And if my coach and I were were able to accomplish that, would I be able to stay fit enough to race against the 500 fastest women marathoners in the country? We got back in the pool a few days after the race, and it was quickly back to the grind. As boring as all those hours in the smelly chlorine were, I kept envisioning all the other qualifiers who were out there pushing themselves and I knew I had to do the same. My coach had already created a blueprint of how to run back-to-back marathons 6 weeks apart, so we stuck to the plan, making day to day adjustments based on how my body felt. I had a minor peroneal tendon issue that held my running back a bit, but overall, it was pretty smooth sailing. We got in about 3 marathon specific workouts, and before we knew it, we were less than 10 days out from the race of my life. My hamstrings were more sore than normal, but I tried to stay positive and focus on the fact that we had achieved our number one priority: getting to the start line healthy.
In total, 511 women qualified for the 2020 Olympic Marathon Trials, more than double than any other year, and only 465 were able to make it to the start line. When you are pushing your body every day to its limit, staying healthy is half the battle, and I am SO GRATEFUL that my body was able to handle everything I threw its way. In the past year, I have made leaps and bounds when it comes to my nutrition. In our sport, disordered eating is rampant, and I am sad to say, I have suffered from it a quite deal. I don’t think it is something that is talked about enough and is an issue that impacts almost every female runner I’ve come into contact with. While I am far from perfect now, I have finally found a way to fuel my body properly and it has rewarded me with my best running performances and my longest bout of injury-free running in the past 4 years.
A couple days before the race, my coach and I drove to Atlanta and arrived at the hotel that was swarming with elite runners. Everywhere I looked, I saw fast men and women. To say it was intimidating is an understatement. Luckily, Donnie has some Olympic Trials experience of his own, and he kept us away from the masses as much as possible. He said something that stuck with me throughout the weekend. He told me that it doesn’t matter what’s happening on the outside, it’s what’s happening on the inside: What is your mind thinking? Are you calm? Are your muscles and tendons and bones in tact? Are your heart and lungs well-trained? You can’t see any of that stuff on the outside, and anytime I started to compare myself with other women, I came back to that notion. I had earned my spot there. I belonged. This was everything I had trained for and I wasn’t going to let a game of comparison spoil my experience.
Out of the 465 women who started the race, I was seeded 457th. As scary as that was, I just told myself what my coach had finally solidified in my mind “you belong”. I placed myself in the back of the pack, smiled, looked around, and thought of everyone in my life who helped me to get to where I was. The race started and we all took off, storming down Peachtree Street, a sea of ambition, determination, the result of so much hard work. My ears were ringing from the roars of the crowds, and that first loop, I soaked in every second. I was literally living my dream. I vividly remember seeing my family at mile 8, my dad jumping up and down with a look of pride I can’t describe, my mom and boyfriend’s mom, Liza, holding a giant sign that said ‘GO ADRIANA’ yelling at the top of their lungs, and my brother looking at his little sister, with such admiration and love. I remember seeing Donnie, running ALL OVER THE COURSE, reminding me to fight, to grind, to focus on the task at hand and remember to take it one mile at a time. I saw old friends who I grew up running with and new friends who have all inspired and supported me throughout my journey. The wind in that race felt like hurricane gusts and the hills looked like mountains, but through it all, I never stopped fighting. In those last few agonizing miles, as I was running at a comically slow pace, I kept reminding myself that it is the struggle that is the most beautiful. It is in our darkest moments when we find what we’re truly made of, and as I sprinted home those final 200 meters, as much pain as I was in, I think it was one of the best moments of my entire life. I had raced against the fastest women in the country and had finished 280th. My time was nothing to write home about, but on that day, on that course, in those conditions, time was irrelevant. What was important was the way I raced, the way I fought, the way I never succumbed to the pain. At the end of the day, what more can we ask of ourselves?
A lot of people are now asking me “what’s next?” Honestly, I am simply trying to embrace this moment and not take it for granted. These kinds of accomplishments don’t come around often and I don’t want to jump to the next thing without appreciating this feeling for all that it is worth. It’s hard not to have high hopes and new goals, but for now, I am taking some mandatory and necessary recovery time that I think both my mind and body will thank me for in the long run. Who knows what lies ahead, but I do know one thing. I know that chasing big dreams is what makes me feel the most alive and I can only hope that I have the opportunity to continue to do what sets my soul on fire.
