Currently I am sitting in my bed writing this post after taking a 1.5 hour nap. My muscles are sore and I am acutely aware of every vertebrae in my spine. I haven't posted since Friday before I took the 5 hour trip south to Virginia Beach to participate in the Yuengling Shamrock Marathon. But before I go into a long diatribe about how the entire marathon went and the lessons I have learned along the way, let me just say that I did finish. I finished in 6 hours and 15 minutes. Yes, I know it is no Oprah time, but its a time and I did cross that finish line. So thanks to everyone who has supported me throughout this entire year and half long journey. I bought a couple of magnets for my car, a green 26.2 with a shamrock for the decimal point to represent the race, and another magnet, which at the time I didn't realize would be so apropos. The second magnet simply stated,
"26.2, Courage to Start, Strength to Endure, Resolve to Finish." Little did I know that magnet would simply sum up in 9 little words my journey.
Courage to Start:
Over a year and half ago my husband and I had a conversation where he pretty much told me that there was no way he ever thought I could finish a marathon. I asked my friends to click "like" on facebook if they believed in me and if they did, then I would run the Baltimore Marathon. 29 people clicked like, I signed up, I trained until the summer time and then the wheels fell off the bus. I realized that I detested, nay I loathed the idea of running long distances in the summer. So I downgraded and began looking for winter/early spring marathon. My research yielded the Shamrock Marathon, which by all accounts looked like a pretty fun marathon to run. Well, as much fun as any marathon could be. I signed up, I began my training over winter and even though there were some pitfalls and stalls in my training I felt reasonably confident I could will my way to the end of the race. I had no idea how much my will would end up being a factor.
Strength to Endure:
On Saturday, my husband and I made the trip to VA Beach where we met my long time friend, Kathleen. We did our carb load, we laid out our clothes the night before, mapped out a game plan, reminisced, and then went to bed early.
On Sunday, race day, or what we preferred to refer to it as "Judgement Day," both of got up and checked the weather. We contemplated wearing our tutus, she decided yes and I didn't need any extra weight in the form of fabric while running an already challenging race. We both got up at 5 am, and I ate 1.5 bagels. I tried my best to stock up on carbs, but that was literally all I could force down. I loaded up all of gels, energy supplements, drank as much powerade as I could force down, and some water. I donned my race gear and made sure to grab my watch to monitor pace. My husband drove Kathleen and I to the start of the half marathon. I walked a mile with her to her start and wished her luck as she made her way to corral 4. From there I then made my mile trek to my start line where I found a firepit and waited out the next hour and a half with other marathoners waiting for the start.
While waiting for my race, I got to talk with other runners. I was one of a few newbies to the marathon game. Many of the folks I was talking to were veterans who had time goals and knew everything about this type of running. There was a woman there who was running her 97th marathon and a man who celebrating his 100th. Awesome achievements. I compared half marathons and 5ks with other runners as we started discussing which ones we liked best. I was in my element and I wasn't nervous. One runner asked me if I was a wreck, and I said no. Not because I was overconfident, but only because I knew that when I crossed the start line that I had no choice but to finish and no matter what I was going to finish.
It was a long race, so here are the highlights. First 13 miles went pretty much as expected. I cruised at about a 13 mile per minute pace for the first 10 miles and slowed slightly to almost a 14 minute pace when I hit the boardwalk. The VA Beach boardwalk is concrete, I didn't know that, and it was a lot more unforgiving on my lower back than I expected. I saw army cadets cheer on runners, and boy scouts doing Gangham Style. I saw a poor woman in front of me drop out because her ankle gave way. I fell in and out of packs. By mile 17 I was getting pretty tired, but with most of the mileage behind me I knew I could finish. Then my luck turned, I stepped on a dead bird slipped and got bird guts all over my leg. It was pretty awful. Shortly after beginning mile 20, I saw my husband and Kathleen who took pics cheered me on and then raced back to the car to meet up with me again later on the course. And then, it happened...
Resolve to Finish:
My worst fear had come to fruition, I had been keeping track of my pace and I had not gone under the mandatory 16:02 mark/mile, but the naval base I was supposed to run through wouldn't let me on because I couldn't get off the base before the 1:30 close. Looking at my watch I calculated when I crossed the start line with where I was in the race, and I had calculated 2.5 hours to go about 6.2 miles. I was told I had to get into the van and they would take me to the finish line. I was devastated as I texted both my co-worker who was supportive of me and my husband explaining what had happened. As I sat on the bus and waited for them to corral some other stragglers, I began to think about what this meant. I had come so far only to lose in the end. I had built up this weekend, I had traveled 5 hours only to be denied in the last 6 miles. I had spent tears and sweat and countless hours on the road only to be told, "sorry, you're done..." While sitting on the van, two of the walking wounded were dropped off and we were told we were stopping at a medical tent before heading to the finish line. Myself and some other racers who still had some fight in us asked if we could rejoin the race but make up the mileage. We were told that we had to go to the finish line, but they could see if they would negotiate it. I looked and my co-worker, Josh, sent a text and it said, "Oh well, good effort..." Had that really been all this was? "A good effort?" Now I know Josh and I know that if anything the text was more of a sound of disappointment then a meaningless pat on the head and that he genuinely felt bad for me, but this wasn't why I came. I was never going to put myself through this again.
I knew what I had to do and come hell or high water I was going to limp, crawl, hobble, and do anything that my body would physically allow to finish that 26.2. When we stopped at the medical tent, we pointed out that we were so close to the course and that we should be allowed to join up. The guy was skeptical, and finally I asked if we got out of the van, would anything happen. He looked at me and asked for my bib #. I gave it to him and jumped out of the van before I could be stopped. Those of us that weren't wounded all did the same thing. We decided to run the extra mileage we missed and then to continue on to the end of the race. If I was doing this, then it would be legit. I looped back around, and truthfully, my adrenaline from my ballsy actions made it quite easy to make up the missed mileage and I ran at a pretty quick pace. At mile 24, the sitting in the van had kicked in and my adrenaline had worn off. I was half hobble running. I did so for mile 25 as well, and then I limped mile 26. When I finished mile 26, I realized the end was in sight and let me tell you everyone makes the statement "oh the first 26 miles are easy, its the .2 that really kicks your ass..." Umm yeah, it felt like the last .2 miles stretched on for an eternity. I could see the end, but it was like a forever expanding hallway where I just couldn't seem to get there. I finally made it with what I think looked like a run, but Kathleen's video footage shows a zombie like limp with a slight leg drag. I was given my medal, hat, and a finisher's blanket. I grabbed an armful of cookies and made my way to the car....
What I learned:
1. Hard work does pay off, even if it almost kills you. I worked my ass off for this and it was worth it.
2. Its not as easy to will yourself through the last 20 miles like "they" say. Every training I have ever read says, "train for 20, if you can do 20 you can do 26." Let me tell you 20 and 26 miles may both feel like hell, but when you have been out there for 4 or 5 hours, it is defeating to think you have at least another hour to an hour and a half to go.
3. Anything is possible if you want it bad enough. I thought when I was sitting in the van and they were going to ship me back to the finish that it was over. I knew deep down that a DNF or DQ (which I didn't get) wasn't as bad as not finishing. For me it wasn't about a time, it was about achieving a goal that I set out for. it was about putting up or shutting up. It was about pushing myself and that is what I did.
So What's Next???
Not sure. At 29, I have achieved two major goals. I have run a marathon and received a master's from Johns Hopkins. Those were two life goals I set out for myself and now they are both done.
I will keep up the blog and I will keep running. But who knows where my two feet will take me and what adventures I will run. But until now, it has been one hell of a journey...
Until next time, happy running!
