At this time of year last year, I was tapering for a road marathon. And packing for a month-long vacation in the Caribbean.
The two were absolutely related.
The family trip had been planned for months, but conceived of years before when we decided to visit some dear family friends who live in Barbados. I took on a part time job in January of 2023 to help make that dream a reality, and throughout the spring and summer worked together with my Bajan friend Beth to find the right Vrbo property for a few weeks stay. Patrick found and booked airfare, and we all got our passports updated.
Some of the questions my kids asked Beth, her husband Brent, and their kids in preparation for our time in Barbados centered around topics like the exchange rate and what snacks were available locally. I was interested in beach access, and public transport. Patrick needed to make sure his internet connection would allow him to keep some working hours while there. In addition, Beth and Brent would sometimes send along other information that might interest us—such as Oistin’s fish fry, local art shows, and various Christmas and New Years events advertised locally.
A few months ahead of time, Beth sent me this link. “We saw this and thought of you,” she messaged, “though it’s very close to your arrival date.”
Clearly, I looked into it.
I’d only run one other road marathon previously, in my mid-twenties in Beijing. I didn’t know anything back then about proper fueling, and although I put in a commendable training block complete with Saturday long runs and even some speed work, the second half of that marathon was quite lacking compared to my first half. (I now recognize the wall that I hit around mile 20 as a “bonk.”)
Although I’ve been quite happy two decades later focusing my running efforts on trails, there was a part of me that wanted to revisit the road marathon. I know a great deal more about nutrition and electrolyte balances these days—maybe it would be fun to give it another whirl—who knows, maybe I could even best my 3:59:55! (Yes, I made it in literally 5 seconds before the four hour mark!)
Plus, it looked like the course could be a fun way to explore part of the island . . .
Patrick tried to talk me out of it. The logistics of an international vacation with a family of five were more than enough for him without adding a race and additional logistics to the plan immediately after our arrival.
I assured him that unlike the many ultras he’s attended and crewed for me, that he didn’t even need to get up on race day if he didn’t want to. I’d navigate it all solo.
He still thought I was insane, but *I* was delighted with my plan. I’d train in Boise, research and plan logistics, taper during the week we needed to pack and travel, then start off my vacation month with a massive race effort. If you’re a runner too, you probably already anticipate the best part of my plan: what comes after a marathon?
Marathon recovery.
And what better place to recover than the Caribbean?!
I was sold.
I registered, trained, emailed back and forth a bit with the race directors to figure out the shuttle bus situation, and prepared my race gear.
We arrived in Barbados on December 9th, and the Barbados Marathon was on December 10th, at 5:30am.
After getting from the airport to our Vrbo, and checking out the beach with the teens, I checked my shuttle bus/taxi plan with Beth and Brent. The start line was on nearly the opposite shore of the island from our Vrbo, which meant that I’d have to be out to catch the shuttle at around 3:30am. It was decided, after some talking it through, that everyone would feel more comfortable if Brent drove me there—and it would get me almost an extra hour of sleep. He graciously made a plan to come back and retrieve me in the wee hours. I set an alarm and laid out all of my gear and nutrition before turning in a few hours later.
Brent not only got me to the event in time to check my bag and get through the porta-potty line, but he also stuck around to get starting line and sunrise photos.
The race itself was a beautiful way to tour and enjoy the island.
Well, the first half, anyway.
The second half was still the same beautiful island, but because I was participating in the marathon—which was two times around the half marathon course—I got to see the same bits twice. By the time the second half rolled around, not only was the humidity starting to get really quite exhausting, but my old IT band injury had showed up again, and the intensity of the sun was quite formidable. None of these factors improved the view.
Or my race result!
I had targeted a pace that would get me over the finish line by about four hours and thirty minutes, but within three miles of the start line, I could see that my goal would not be realistic for the day. Humidity was clearly a factor that I hadn’t given enough due, but it’s hard to say how much an international travel day and jet lag also played into my inability to hit those paces either.
I edited my goal.
And then massively overhauled it when both the sun and my IT band showed up in earnest somewhere after the half-way mark.
In the second half of the course, I wasn’t able to run any downhills, and I began taking all on-course water offerings in order to dump them over my head, neck, and arms—anything to keep cool! (I’d been keeping hydrated via my race vest, carrying both my own clear water and electrolyte mixes.)
Eventually I revised my goal again—my only concern was to arrive back at the race hub before the 11:30 am shuttle left without me.
I made it with less than ten minutes to spare, with an overall time of 5:40:52. (The race started more than ten minutes late, which means that I was rolling into the finish at about 11:20 am!) Enough time to pick up my race bag, eat a banana, and find out where the bus to my district was parked. Given how sore I was feeling, though, it was not enough time to hobble down to the ocean to take a quick dip.
If I’d been in Barbados just a few more days, I might have chanced the ocean dip. I hadn’t factored “island time” into the shuttle departure—or the fact that there were plenty more participants needing to get across the finish line and board a bus as well. Having been in country less than twenty-four hours, my priority was making it back to our Vrbo without any extra expense or transportation drama, so I took a spot on the bus and waited for its departure. This was an opportunity to observe and take in both local and ex-pat vibes around the race, which were interesting and affirming. My time goal was so far off from what I’d initially planned on, I was glad to hear that no one else on my shuttle felt satisfied with their results or the day’s conditions either.
Many times over the next week or so I told Patrick that if I could do it again, I’d only sign up for the half. After a couple of hours, the sun was just too intense to maintain an aggressive pace. He always reminded me that if I’d only run the half, I’d be wishing I’d tried the full, so there’s that. He’s not wrong.
Now that I’ve checked off “marathon in the tropics,” I can confidently say that I won’t be adding any other hot and humid destinations to my race list.
Barbados was a lovely place to vacation, but it was a miserable place to run.
Perhaps if I’d lived there for more than a month I’d become not only heat adapted, but humidity adapted too? Patrick and I both maintained light workout schedules to keep fit and regulated during our stay, but it was the post-run swim that was the real treat.
Walks on the beach, sunsets, rainbows, tropical vistas, hammock naps, seafood, and time with our friends far outweighed my 26.2 mile island tour on day two.
Some adventures may be best enjoyed sans running goals.
This one, for example, called for a very slow walk . . .