Hi! Nice to meet you. I'm a marathoner.
That's kind of all I can think about. On May 2nd, 2009 at 12:29pm, I officially became a marathoner. I finished the race in five hours, 29 minutes and 28 seconds. I did not have a concrete goal for a finish time, all I wanted to focus on was finishing, but I had been thinking all along that I would be happiER if I finished under 5:30:00, but I promised myself not to be disappointed unless it took me longer than 6:00:00. So, hey, I beat my goal! Two whole seconds...
**WARNING**
this will be a loooooong post, so get settled or close the browser
It has been a whirlwind four days. On Thursday last week, I packed up and headed to Greensboro. I dropped Riley off and went to meet my parents and the Youngs for dinner. I stuffed myself with bruschetta and linguini with broccoli and chicken (and a Fat Tire beer). I went to visit Krick and Patrick for just a while at Poblano's, then headed home to sleep! I got up early Friday morning to drive to Pinehurst and that story will follow in another post...Holmes and I came back to Greensboro around 4 that day. We went to pick up our race packets at the Grandover resort. It wasn't a super impressive expo, but it's a tiny, new race, so we didn't expect too much. It was a rush even just walking up to the marathon line for bib pick up! Holmes bought me a commemorative jacket with the marathon logo on it and I was GIDDY. We were also pretty jazzed about the loot. The bags are really nice and the hats rock! The shirts seem pretty sweet too, recycled and techie.
Dinner that night was the usual. Sweet potatoes sauteed with onions and garlic simmered in chicken broth with wilted spinach, two morningstar black bean burgers and whole wheat rolls. Holmes is such an awesome cook. We guzzled water for hours. I used some blue painters tape to 'write' my name on the front and back of my shirt. We laid out every item we would possibly need for the morning. Bedtime was 8:30. It took me FOREVER to fall asleep, which is unusual for me. I kept thinking about race strategy (ha), reviewing my training, wondering if I drank enough water and ate enough salt. Finally, after getting up to pee twice (GUZZLED water for hours), I fell asleep.
4:30am: Alarm buzzed. Mom and Alan were already gone, on their way to volunteer at the morning packet pick up and registration. Two packs of kashi vanilla oatmeal, one cup of coffee. Double check that we have everything. Skirt, two bras, two pairs of socks, shirt with name on it.

6:30am: arrive in High Point, park with little trouble in the deck. Walk over to a relatively short line for two porta potties. We realized there that people were changing inside the porta potties and a volunteer came to tell us there were a lot more porta potties over on the other side of all these tents. So we followed him. BAD sheep. We ended coming right back, and forfeiting about 20 places in line because of it. This is something I would normally be really irritated about, but irritation and panic (that we'd miss the start) would just have been a waste of energy. So we waited patiently. We made it over to the start line with a full minute to spare. Mom found us and took pictures
For the next seven and a half miles, Holmes and I talked about the houses we passed (some REALLY ugly, some surprisingly awesome), we laughed at other runners (yeah, so what, people run funny, it's just the truth), and he slowed me down...a LOT. After three miles, my body tried to take over and I end up going too fast. So it was a REALLY good thing he was with me for that stretch. That's us running through High Point University. I started to feel some twinges of aching in various places. Holmes just kept telling me not to think about it. Which of course made me think about it more, but I was doing fine.
8:15ish: a little after the seventh mile marker, I reached the scariest point in the marathon. The split off from the half marathoners was SO drastic. We went opposite directions at an intersection. I turned right, Holmes turned left. We started to veer to our respective side of the road and I turned back and yelled that I was scared, Holmes responded "just don't think about it". I approached the intersection alone and a volunteer said, full marathon to the right, and my stomach dropped. I didn't panic, but I wanted to. I made the turn and faced this...

it was so freakin scary. there was nothing. I could just make out a woman running up ahead in the far distance, but other than that, it was just me.
I trodded along and know now that I sped up. Bad decision, but Holmes wasn't there to keep me running smart! I passed one water stop and I wondered if the people were pitying me. I was pretty sure I was the last runner in the race now. I tried to make light conversation as I ran past and picked up some peanut butter crackers (just in case). I had my iPod on now, but wasn't even listening to it. I was suffering from some self-doubt when I finally saw some other runners, I realized I might even pass a woman! I got to the point in the course where the super fast runners were already on their way back in and saw the first three guys go past me. That, for some strange reason, is always a mental boost for me. Not to mention I was approaching the 10th mile, where Amanda Mashburn was waiting on me.
9ish: I finally saw her in the distance and felt so relieved. I was still going a bit fast at this point. Amanda jumped on the course with me and for five miles, we chatted and caught up on the past six or so years. It was great. We ran through the middle of NOWHERE. I mean, donkeys? Really?

10ish: At mile 16, Ben Robbins met up with us. At this point, it had gotten officially hard. Ben brought me half a peanut butter sandwich. I walked while eating that and we started running again. Well, Amanda and I started running again. Ben proceeded to join in by walking and zig zag running, stupid long legs. Ben and Amanda chatted while I focused on continuing to move. That was hardest point so far. We were nowhere. In the middle of some random neighborhood in High Point with no volunteers, no spectators. We did pass some people in their driveway who clapped for us (I'm sure out of pity, in disbelief that someone was still out there). I wanted to walk. But I didn't. I hated it. The cheering volunteers made me feel worse. But I kept going, I'm pretty sure it was ONLY because Ben and Amanda were with me. Amanda left us at mile 17 and I hope I thanked her enough.
After we said good bye, we looked up the road and Ben said "what are those two people doing up there?". There were two little kids jumping and doing high kicks on the side of the road. They didn't have on the lime green volunteer shirts, so we had no clue what was going on. I don't know when I realized it, but it finally dawned on me...it was Kristin and Neena!

We stopped briefly to take a picture, even though Ben had said he wasn't going to let me walk anymore...I snuck it past him. They gave me some little yellow side of the road flowers and I tucked them in the back of my hat. They were so funny and excited, it was great to see them!

I'm really glad they picked the spot they did, because it got increasingly less fun as we went on. For a while, I talked with Ben, I don't remember about what. He walked most of it, that's how slow I was going, but he stuck it out with me. Each time we ran past a water stop or volunteers, he would make sure they knew he was just there for support and I was the one in the race. I tried to keep my speed up, but I realized I was draining and I started walking through each water stop. Ben wore his six bottle fuel belt. That ended up being HUGE, because I sucked through my bottles by mile 19 or so. I rationed my hammer gels well and started taking gatorade at the water stops, but several times I had to ask Ben for his water. He kept talking and found great joy in informing me when he thought we'd pass another person. I probably didn't share my joy at that moment, but was really grateful for it. Nice to know I wasn't going to be dead last and nice to know someone was still feeling upbeat. HA. Passing that twenty mile marker....wow, my stomach turned again just as I was typing that. It was surreal. Ben said I was Jean Luc Picard (if I spelled that right, I'm ashamed of myself).
Half way through the 21st mile, the long hill started. It continued until almost to mile 23. In a weird sick twisted way it was that hill that kept me going. I don't hate hills. They provide tiny accomplishments within a big accomplishment. Small goals to tackle on the way to the big goal. For this hill, it was the first time in the race that I put my head down and focused on one foot in front of the other. Although, on hills, I take tiny itty bitty strides, so I was focusing on one mid foot strike almost next to the other foot. I had my iPod back on in one ear, so I could still hear Ben chatting away, but had a beat to drive me on. We started passing more and more people. As the mile marker numbers got higher, I started to become amazed. I was going to finish this thing. I had stopped talking to Ben altogether. I think I actually stopped even nodding or smiling while he was talking. At the second to last water stop, I walked through, mixed the water with the gatorade (to water it down) and told Ben I wasn't stopping again. Ben smiled and said, well, that was the last one anyways. Jerk (it wasn't). Somewhere during mile 24 (the long uphills continued), I started to pick up the pace. I don't know if it was completely conscious but something triggered that I WAS going to finish. And finish strong. The slightest hint of tears sprang to my eyes, but I choked them back and continued focusing on just RUNNING. Amanda told me back around mile 11 that at some point it just becomes muscle memory. It did. It was truly a strange sensation. I realized I was still hurting, but it was a disconnected hurt. I didn't really *feel* it. I was actually able to ignore it. My legs were just turning over. Ben kept telling me how many more people he thought I could pass. Finally we got back into the city and I was able to hold my head up a little. More people were around and were clapping as I ran past. Ben had to remind me to wave back. He commented, alright, we're moving now, and it was like he just realized he was finally running, instead of walking, next to me. Normally with a mile to go in a race, I'm afraid to push, because I'm afraid I'll run out of steam. But I just pushed. I kept checking my watch, sure, but I kept speeding up. Doing the math of how many more tenths of mile kept my mind busy while my legs kept really busy. As it ticked past 26.1 I saw Holmes way up in the distance and did a weird little jump thing. That was it, the culmination of the feelings I'd been feeling for the past mile and a half. I didn't cry, which really surprised me, I just kept moving. Holmes jumped up and down on the corner of the last turn. My legs felt like they weren't attached to my body and I was actually really afraid I was going to fall. Holmes and I signaled our "I love you" signal to each other and I tried to pick my head up as I moved down the last block. I thought I was smiling, though I'm not sure if that is in fact the look that was portrayed to the spectators. I could hear my Mom and others yelling for me and I just stared at the finishing line mat.
12:29: I finished. A marathon. Ok, I'm crying a little bit now, even if I didn't yesterday. HOLY CRAP I RAN A MARATHON.
You should do one. Seriously. Amanda had told me at one point that I should be sure to look around and take in the moment when I realized I was going to be able to finish this, my very first marathon, because there is only one. And I did. For that last full mile and a half, I was very focused on it. I've been quite focused on it since. I don't want to forget what that felt like. I wish everyone could feel it.
I ran that last mile, when I thought my legs were going to speed away without me, in 10:23. That is not fast by any stretch of anyone's judgment, but at that moment in time, after 24 miles of 12-14 minute miles, I was pretty flippin' happy with it. The garmin says my last .2 miles were at a 7:43 pace. Not sure how completely accurate that it, but I know I was really moving. I'm happy with my finishing time, but I know for a fact I wouldn't have cared what it was. I finished strong and that's what matters to me. Those last six miles were the best I've experienced. Mom, Alan, Holmes, Kristin and Neena were all there at the finish to see me.
I had to keep moving, my calves threatened to cramp and freeze up at any moment and when I put weight on either leg, it jiggled like it was going to crumble. Holmes grabbed me bananas and water and held me up. I don't remember what was said to me or what I said to anyone for the next ten minutes or so. Mom took a lot of pictures, and they are quite indicative of how I felt.

Slowly, I regained consciousness. Ok, that's dramatic, but it's kind of how I felt. Like I blacked out on my feet for a bit. We went to get subs and pizza and a cookie and gatorade and I waited a little while to get a free massage. That massage was GREAT. At the end, my foot cramped in the arch like it always does. But my hero, the massage therapist, fixed that too.
Overall, it was amazing. Holmes and I were quite proud of ourselves and each other, as it should be.

The medals are really fun. They are orange armchairs with yellow "legs" and "feet" wearing a race bib. After snagging some more oranges, water and a whole pizza, we headed home.
So now, to the obvious next question...
...will I run another one?
yes, you will. what a great story, acey! You know what should be next...triathalons! :)
ReplyDeleteOk, I was totally crying. I'm so proud of you friend! You and Holmes look FANTASTIC! I can tell you both have been working hard and it shows. WAY TO GO!!!!
ReplyDeletemaybe one day liz...but i don't know if i'm that into swimming. i really just LOVE running, but who knows!
ReplyDeleteCongrats! I saw your post on the RRRC site, so I've added you to my blog roll. Looking forward to reading more!
ReplyDelete