26.2

The race began in Walsburg at 6 am.  In order to be ready at the starting line, Bill and I had to get up at 2:30 am, so he could drive me down to the shuttle buses in Provo.  There were over 2,000 registered entrants for the full marathon, so the organizers said there would be no private drop off at the start of the race (Walsburg is a SMALL town up in the mountains).

2:30 is stupidly early.

I tried to get a full night sleep Thursday night.  Utter fail.  I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, then Bill's 5 am alarm woke me up completely.  I normally sleep right through it.

So, I tried to get a full night sleep Friday night before the race...

Fail.

I would have had to go to bed at 6 pm to get a full 8 hours.  That's never gonna happen.  So, the goal was 8 pm, but that time shot by as well.  I finally did get in bed at 9 pm...

... then got a phone call at 10 pm and was wide awake for another 30 minutes or more.

Still, 2:30 am arrived.

I did pretty well at eating my breakfast of oatmeal and a banana.  OK, so I only ate half the banana.

I had packed and arranged all my race day gear the night before, so I didn't have to worry about forgetting anything.  I planned to run with a water belt even though there were water/aid stations throughout the course.  I refuel with Shot Blocks and the race only offered Gu gels.  It's important not to change what you do on race day, so the water belt was more to carry my fuel of choice than for the water.  Although it did prove useful to have a little water on me whenever I wanted to rinse the sweat out of my eyes.  I greased myself up with Vaseline to prevent chafing, got dressed, and was ready to leave by 3:00.

Bill dropped me off at the bus loading zone and took off into the mountains for some early morning biking.  I got in line for the bus and met a man named Jason.  We chatted about the race and our families the whole way up to the starting drop off zone.  I tell you what.  That was a LONG bus ride!  I remember a feeling of panic when riding the shuttle for the half marathon.  This was worse.  26 miles is a long way.

The bus dropped us off at 4:30 am alongside a ranch.  The rancher allowed the runners to use his pasture for a staging area.  The whole pasture was full of campfires for the runners to keep warm.

It seemed like most of the people there were running with a friend.  I was alone.  So, I asked to join a group at their campfire.  It turned out that most of that group knew each other and had run several other marathons together.  Still, they were friendly and supportive.  We ended up sitting in that prickly field grass playing campfire games until it was time to turn in our drop bags and line up at the starting line.

Drop bags are used to stuff your warm-up gear and anything else you want to bring to the race.  The organizers chuck them all in a rental truck and haul it down to the finish line for you.  After the race, you can collect your drop bag because it has your bib number attached to it.  Mine had my sweat jacket (for before the race), my flip-flops (for after the race), tissues and other random minor items.

Lining up for a race, you find a race pacer holding a sign with the time you want to try to finish the race in.  The fastest race pacers are to the front of the line.  I headed to the back of the line.  Let's face it.  I know I'm not fast.  My only goal was to actually finish this monster.  Based on my longest training run, I thought I'd be doing really great if I finished in 5 hours, but the reality would probably be closer to 5 1/2 hours.

In the final countdown everyone around me was chatting and getting encouragement from each other and from the race pacer nearest us.  In fact, I was so caught up in listening to the chatter that the race began before I even realized!  The big surge only happens at the front of the column.  At the back, we just started walking calmly forward until we got to the starting arch, then began our run.

I won't give you a blow by blow of every single awesome-beautiful-uplifting-inspiring-challenging-tough-discouraging-painful-agonizing mile.  Instead, here are some highlights...


The early part of the race was cool because we were high in the mountains and the sun wasn't up, yet.  The mid part of the race was cool because we were still in the canyon and the cliffs formed huge shadows that keep a near perpetual pre-sunrise chill in the air.  The last part of the race was HOT because we were out of the canyon, running in the full blaze of the summer sun in the middle of the city.

Oh, the scenery was beautiful!  I live here and I know the canyon very well.  Still, running through it gives so much more time to soak in the views than driving it.  Rolling hills, red barns, white rail fences, shimmering water in the river and the reservoir, green pine forests, rugged cliffs, waterfalls, and wildflowers.

For a downhill course, there sure were plenty of uphills.  I knew I couldn't run the entire course non-stop, so I decided to walk the uphills.  That way I could use the momentum of the downhill running to try to improve on my training time.  That seemed to work well.  When an uphill section drew near, I picked a spot on the hill where I would give myself permission to slow to a walk.  Then, as I neared the crest, I chose another spot there I had to start running again.

Once, while I was walking an uphill, another participant joined me.  I couldn't tell her age.  She might have been my age; she might have been younger.  Her hair was bleached white and her skin was very dark.  She looked too trim and fit to be with us slower runners, but at the same time, she looked like she had lived life hard and fast... if that makes any sense.  We chatted for a while and she told me all about the person she was supposed to be running with in the race.  He was her boyfriend and chose to run with her despite not being a runner himself.  He used to be clean and sober, but had recently fallen off the bandwagon and was drinking and smoking weed again.  He had fallen behind and she was worried about him.  She was walking in the hopes that he would catch up to her.

Then she told me that he hits her, sometimes.

Holy $*#@!

I had listened to her tale about her boyfriend and held my tongue, despite thinking he was pathetic, but I couldn't remain quiet any longer.  I told her emphatically that she needed to leave him!  I advised her to turn him in to the authorities.  I told her she deserved better and that NO ONE had the right to hit her!  I asked her if she had family near by (she is living with her parents).  We were well on the downhill side and my "run" marker had come and gone, but I kept walking and talking with her.

In the end, I had to leave her.  I couldn't walk the whole race.  I wished her well and continued on my way.  I don't remember her name, and I will probably never see her again, but I hope she finds the courage to get him out of her life!

Other runners came and went on my radar.  Only a few others stand out, for me.

One such runner was named John.  He and I had been leap frogging for most of the lower canyon.  We walked together for a little while at the base of the canyon.  He was an older gentleman with a handlebar mustache.  This was his 300th marathon.

300th!!!

He started running them in the 80's.  He was so friendly.  He complimented me on my "power walk" (I wouldn't let my walking speed drop below 4 1/2 mph) and advised me to cut from corner to corner of the road on turns to make sure I wasn't adding mileage to the race.  I told him my hope to finish at around 5hr 15min and he said that while it'd be tough, he believed I could make it.  He pulled away as we entered the city.  I could see him turning to look back and check on me every once and a while.  But he had some amazing reserves of speed in him that weren't in me, so I watched him go and kept on going at the best pace I could manage...

...because by then I was in pain.

Oh!  The first half of the race was SO BEAUTIFUL!  I really enjoyed the first 15 miles.  In fact, it wasn't until around mile 18 that I started to hurt.  Mile 21 is when it truly got tough.  By then I was in new territory.  I had never pushed myself that far, before.  By mile 23, I was in agony.  My knees hurt, but it was my feet that were causing my distress.  They were on FIRE!  Every step was piercing.  It felt like I was ripping the soles off my feet.  At one point, my mind was entirely filled with the pain in my feet until I finally had to tell myself, "yes, there is pain.  It is not going away.  Accept it, put it out of your mind, and keep going."

The last 3 miles felt like they lasted forever.  My body wanted to quit, but my mind was locked and rock solid.  I was gonna finish this thing.  Only 3 measly miles stood between me and my goal.  There were water stations at every mile marker for those last 3 miles, so I drank a Powerade, drank a water, and doused myself with a water each time and forced myself to keep moving forward.

I don't think I can put into words the feeling when I saw the finish line in the distance.  Overwhelming  emotions!  Knowing it was almost over, if I could just hold out a little bit longer!  I had sent Bill texts at 13.1 miles, 10 miles, 5, 3, 2, and 1 mile.  I forced myself to run the last half mile non-stop.  I wanted to finish strong.

Mom, Dad, and Paul (my brother-in-law) were waiting to cheer me at the 26 mile marker.  Bill and Will were at the finish line.  I found out later that my visiting teaching partner, Leanna, came down and watched me finish without telling me she was going to do so!  She is so awesome!

Yes, I choked up as I crossed the line.

Bill and Will came to find me right away.  Bill had made up an entire lunch cooler full of post race awesomeness!  He made a bottle of chocolate milk mixed just the way I like it.  He had a couple of frozen bottles of water that he used as a roller massage on my legs and to ice my knees.  There was a protein shake and a couple of Cokes.  He and Will ended up drinking the Cokes, though.  I didn't want them.  Will went and got my drop bag for me so I could strip off the shoes and socks and put my flip-flops on.

Mom, Dad, and Paul found me and we all sat on the City Hall steps as Bill massaged my legs.  You are supposed to walk off the race, not sit down and, yes, I did walk around all afternoon, but I'll save that story for another post.

My official time was 5 hours, 19 minutes, 10 seconds.  That is just crazy!  Who would want to spend that much time running?!  Me, apparently.

After saying good-bye to Mom, Dad, and Paul, we headed to the car.  Bill had parked it on the second level of a parking structure, so Will and I waited in the shade while Bill brought it down.  There was no way I wanted to walk up to it.  While we waited, my campfire buddies came walking up!  And... John was with them!  They all recognized me and we high-fived (and John gave me a hug) as they congratulated me on completing my first marathon.  One of them pointed out to me that there was a blister on the side of my foot.  I hadn't even noticed it.  The pain in the soles of my feet had completely masked it.


So, here we are... A day later.  Delayed onset muscle soreness (DOMS) has set in with a vengeance.  I feel like someone has beaten me with a baseball bat.  Everything from my chest down just HURTS!  I can barely stand.  Besides the blister, I also have 4 toenails (two on each foot) that look like they are going to die and fall off.

But, I am so very happy!  I conquered myself and completed this huge goal.  Now I plan to enjoy my summer just doing whatever workout strikes my fancy.  Running will return to its rightful place as only one of many things I like to do, instead of consuming all my workouts.

Thanks to everyone who has supported my in this crazy journey to marathon!  It means a lot to me.

Will I ever do it again?






I think so!