Marathoner X2

I feel like there might just be certain people in this world born crazy. Or at least with that certain extra little something inside them that drives them beyond what a normal person would think rational. I have always know that I was a certain kind of passionate crazy. I have always known that while I am just what I am and I can’t apologize for it, that truthfully few people will ever understand my drive.  Hell, even I don’t get it sometimes.  But fortunately for me I have found an equally insane person in Chris who gets it and goes with me.  That was probably part of the attraction from the start. We both recognized the same insanity in each other.  While it can make for turmoil at times, it also helps us understand and go with things.  I would probably would not come up with quite so many hair brained plans if I didn’t have a partner in crime. It wouldn’t be as much fun.

So this is where we are at today. I am sore. I ran a marathon yesterday and it was vastly, crazy different than the first one.  Almost night and day difference.  I had expectations going in of what I “should” be able to do if conditions were right. That meant pace/timing etc.  I also had fears that having run a marathon exactly 2 weeks prior that this would end up messing with my timing and pace. That somehow I wouldn’t be fully prepared to run it.  Perhaps I will always forever have trepidation about running 26.2 miles.  It is a very long way after all.

We met the people at the expo on Saturday and they were lovely people. So thankfully that all went down very nicely.  I was nervous Saturday night. Not actually about running 26.2 miles, but suddenly slightly nervous because what if I couldn’t run it at a 4 hour 30 minute pace as I had claimed I could.  What if part of that 5 hour finish time was simply because that is how long it was going to take me to run a marathon?  Maybe I was delusional you see.  I didn’t worry too much about it. In fact considering that I was running a full marathon the next morning  you’d think I might actually be more nervous than I actually was.  I didn’t put as much thought into my prep for it and I was kind of like, ah, let’s just do it. 

So we arrived fairly early Sunday morning which was good.  We lined up. Lots of people. Thousands really. The half and the full started together and ran part of the same course.  As soon as our corral finally made its way to the start and the buzzer sounded I immediately felt great, but also immediately felt like I couldn’t move.  So many people, I was not running nearly as fast as I wanted. Frustrating but also maybe fine because it was a slight forced pacer in the beginning to allow my body to warm up.  So the first 2 miles were SLOW because of all the people. Then we hit a hill and I forced myself up it pretty well. Then mile 3 was pretty much all downhill and my legs took off. This is also about the time the heard started to separate and I could move freely.  Mile 3 was amazing fast and I felt the momentum after that. I ran GREAT!  I was running a 9:30 minute mile pace for lots of miles.  I got this I thought.  But secretly I knew this was too fast.  But I didn’t care.  The air felt amazing. It was beyond perfect marathon running weather.  The air was so crisp and clean.  Thank you Oregon for being beautiful.  I had forgotten how much I truly love and appreciate being an Oregonian.  Beautiful fresh air!

The first 10-12 miles were blissful. I loved every second of them.  I was flying. And I thought boy if I was running a half marathon this thing would feel fabulous and I’d almost be done.  I was also expecting more hills than there proved to be in the first half of the marathon. This is fabulous I thought. My body is a beast and it’s holding up great.  Of course it’s easy to think and feel this 10 miles into a 26 mile run.

So somewhere around the 13 mile mark, about halfway, I started to notice slight issues with things. Like for some reason it felt like my pants were chaffing around my waist. Weird. This has NEVER happened, not a single time in all the runs I’ve ever done. And I’ve run half marathons in these pants before.  That’s interesting. And at about mile 13 I noticed and realized that a big blister was forming on my baby pinky toe on my left foot. Nothing one can do about that at mile 13 of a full marathon.  I knew it was forming and that by the end it was going to be a full sized gigantic blister. I ran on. 

My overall pace was solidly at 9:40 minute miles all the way until mile 16 when we came upon a fairly significant hill.  I was still feeling okay at this point and running solid. I “ran” up the hill as much as one can actually run up hills. At the top of the hill I was greeted to a fabulous view from a gorgeous bridge. Of course at this point my overall pace had begun to slip just a little. Hills. But I was still under a 10 minute mile pace.  I ran on.  Mile 17, Mile 18. I started to think, hmm… this hurts more than last time. Stupid chafing. Stupid toe. Stupid quads on fire. I ran on.  Mile 19. Mile 20.  This is AWESOME. Yes, more painful for sure, but awesome. This is EXACTLY what I thought running a marathon would feel like. Hard, intense, satisfying. Did I mention hard? Why does this hurt so much?  Mile 20 something, I am still under a 10 minute mile pace.  But why aren’t I done already. You seriously want me to run another 6.2 miles, that’s like over an hour. Oh GOD, I have to run another hour. What the HELL….  Mile 21. This blows. But I’m still at less than 10 minute mile pace. No way I am going to keep this long term.

Math. Lots of math in my head on an exhausted body. Kept running numbers over and over. Again and again.  Can I still get a sub 4:30 marathon time if I slow down a bunch because I knew the slowdown was coming.  Mile 22. Pace was 9:58 minute miles but I was no longer a 10 minute mile pace. It was more like 11 minute miles. I knew eventually it would tick over.  Mile 22.5 I held on to exactly 10:00 minute mile pace. A little after mile 22.5 it turned over to a 10:01 pace. Sigh. Everything was hurting at this point. It was more like foot shuffling. I seriously felt like I was just barely moving my feet. But I was still around 11 minute miles so I was in fact running. But it sucked.

Mile 23. Okay only 3 miles to go. Just a 5k. More math. If I run 11 minute miles I will finish at x time. Blah, blah blah. Everything is on fire.  Why is this hurting so much more than the last time? Maybe because I’m really running. I’m running a decent pace for a long period of time. This hurts. This sucks. Oh, there’s the mile 24 sign. How did it take me like forever to get to this sign? Oh God. Somewhere post mile 24 I hit a wall. I literally thought I was going to throw up right there. I had to slow down. I wanted to vomit so badly. My stomach was turning. The pain in my quads was practically unbearable.  The adorning supporters all along the side of the road now seemed like a sad reminder of the fact that I could barely move instead of motivating me it felt like I was a disappointment. Oh body, just run.  I tried to will myself to run.  Mile 24-25 was brutal. I swear it felt like an eternity. I was miserable and felt sick. And pain. I tried to run. I swear time stood still, and yet it was an 11:47 minute mile. Still not horrible. For this point in the race. I had a moment at Mile 24 where I was like, this feels so horrible, why the hell did I want to do this? Maybe I will be good if I never ever run another marathon again. Maybe after I finish this, I’m good. Maybe I don’t need to do this anymore. I already proved I could.  Maybe I’m just done.

Mile 25. Okay, only 1.2 to go. And yet I almost wanted to cry. This was the wall. This was the pain. I saw the 4:25 pace group go by me and I had nothing left in my legs to try and keep with them. There goes 4:25.  I tried to run on.  Mile 25 was awful. This was the home stretch and there were literally hundreds of people lining the streets. And I had to walk for a second and then shuffle by.  Mile 26 was my slowest mile, 12:01. But I still think that was primarily ran. I came into the finish chute and I tried to tell myself no matter how much pain you are in, just run! Just finish. Even if it’s the slowest run of your life, just run. It was slow. But I crossed the line and got my medal and saw my time. 4:28 something on my watch which would later be officially confirmed as 4:28:33 and I was happy. And I stood for a moment in the finishers chute relieved. And proud.

This was in fact what I was expecting from a marathon. This was the feeling I was thinking I would have all along. The feeling of satisfaction. Of knowing that I “ran” a marathon. I pretty much ran all of it. I walked a few moments in the last 2 miles. But I’d say probably honestly combined like a quarter of a mile tops.  So I ran pretty much 26 miles straight. That is what I’m calling a success. That is running a marathon. I don’t think you can finish a marathon in 4:28 and not pretty much run the whole thing. I had a moment standing post finish line looking over at all the hoopla going on around me and I almost got teary. I just did it. Sub 4:30 marathon.  I ran a marathon.  But almost instantly I was taken back to the reality at hand, the burning of my quads and calves. The hunger that was psychotically prevalent. I wanted to eat everything. EVERYTHING. Oddly absent was the feeling of wanting to vomit.  Yes, I got sick at mile 24 but that went away the moment I stopped running. And oddly I never felt the urge again. Post Maui I threw up for an hour straight almost. Guessing it was heat related mostly. Because instead of feeling sick, I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days.

I made my way thru the finishers corral where I found a place to sit down and call Chris. He had finished the marathon in 4:17:51 so about 10 minutes ahead of me. Ironically he finished Maui about 10 minutes ahead of me as well so apparently this is spread. Right around 10 minutes.  We drove home and stopped at the grocery store where all I wanted to do was EAT. Everything. And that is exactly what I did. No joke pretty sure I ate like 10,000 calories post run but I didn’t care. I just kept wanting to eat and eat. And sleep.  Eat. Sleep. Eat. Sleep.

Actually running 26.2 miles is vastly different than a half marathon. Aside from being double the distance it is really like triple the amount of work and wear and tear. It’s like the marathon is broken into 3 parts. Mile 1-13.1 (the half) Mile 13.1- Mile 20 (manageable) Mile 20-26.2 (the real struggle and race)  All 3 parts are equally hard. Seriously. As hard as the first 13.1 miles is, no doubt the final 6.2 is just as brutal. You could almost say it is 1-13.1, 13.1-21, and 21-26.2.  Honestly the last 5 miles are as difficult and painful as the first 2 parts are.  It’s the last 5 that challenge your mental fortitude and desire. It’s the last 5 miles that make you a marathoner. It’s how you handle the pressure when there is an ache in your legs and a sincere desire to quit.  It’s the last 5 that determine who you really are. For the most part I passed. I still have some growing to do but I passed. 4:28:22. I passed.

In the end my overall results were as such:

Overall: 2498 out of 5550 (top 45% of ALL participants)

Female: 966 out of 2841 (Top 34% of ALL females)

Women 35-39: 171 out of 453 (Top 37% of ALL comparable aged women)

I am very pleased with these results. Honestly to be in the top half of all categories is amazing and top 34% or almost 1/3 of all females, well that’s kickass! Considering I don’t really consider myself a runner working on speed.

So I had that moment of this shit is HARD. REALLY hard. Running 26.2 miles is not easy. It’s painful and it hurts and maybe I don’t need to ever do it again.  But that feeling quickly passed. Actually even as soon as I had the thought while running I thought, no. Of course you are doing this again.  That’s where my crazy comes into play.

There is absolutely no feeling quite like crossing the finish line of a marathon. For a few brief moments everything else fades away and I feel like I accomplished something so remarkable. And the feeling of satisfaction and pride. It’s priceless.  Yes these marathons come with a price tag but the reward is priceless.  I am a freaking marathoner. It hurts. It’s painful. It’s torturous and it’s glorious. It’s amazing. It’s magical. It’s worth all the suffering.  

I knew I had a sub 4:30 in me and I’m glad I had the opportunity to confirm that.  Yeah me! Now time to figure out what’s next.