**this weekend i made the decision to accept a refund for my entry fee for the 2012 nyc marathon. perhaps the resolution of that situation is what inspired me to finally write my marathon race report**
race morning dawned early. i guess they always do. i was definitely nervous but not nearly as much as i had expected. i think partly the fact that nothing was what i had planned was working in my favor. i had spent hours agonizing over the race i thought i would be doing: how cold would it be at fort wadsworth? would the pre-race downtime completely psych me out? when, what and how much should i eat? everything about that race made me nervous. but this one, i knew very little about. i hadn't had sufficient time or info to work myself into a panic over it.
this is going to sound cheesy, but honestly i could not have done this without my family. their support was immeasurable, not only emotionally but logistically. they had come to ny the previous weekend for the marathon that wasn't, picked up my richmond race materials, pored over maps the previous evening, planned our driving route to the starting line and then to the cheer zones, gotten up well before sunrise to come with me. we packed in the car and headed out in the morning darkness. i dozed a bit in the car as dad drove, but mostly contemplated this thing i was taking on. rather, this thing i HAD TAKEN on. it felt sudden and strange that the race was today, the race i hadn't planned to do but had worked so hard for. it was both comforting and terrifying. i was anxious, ready to be running instead of sitting. we made a pit stop at mcdonalds then headed into richmond.
driving around, looking for a parking spot, we saw runners heading to the start, and my anxiety grew. i wanted to get this whole marathon thing over with, then i chastised myself for wishing away the very thing that i wanted to do so badly. we parked, i removed a few layers and we headed to the start with a pit stop at the port-o-johns. we watched the other races start (richmond has an 8k and a half marathon on the same day, all with different start times). i felt kind of removed from myself and the whole situation. i had overwhelming last-minute doubts: who am i kidding? what am i doing? can someone please take me home NOW? i felt the panic rise to the surface, right under my skin, til i could barely catch my breath. i looked around, at the faces of the people who believed in me, who were here to watch me shoot for something i never thought i could do. and i saw pride, excitement, and a little exhaustion, but no doubt. so i exhaled.
marathoners started gathering in their corrals, but i was dinking. now, suddenly, i didn't want to go. i didn't want to run, i wasn't ready, i was cold and confused and none of this was real. then my mom said, "ok, are you ready? i think you should go to your spot." i wanted to puke, so i busied myself removing a couple more layers and asking dumb questions. hugged everyone, then headed to the corral. this felt familiar yet foreign. i distracted myself observing the other runners, most of whom were either calm (like the marathon maniac i saw who had done the 50-state challenge twice, according to his shirt) or excited. nobody seemed scared. i exhaled again.
finally, finally, long minutes later, the starting horn. i thought, "here we go," and then there we went. i waved like mad to my family, who couldn't spot me. i reminded myself to breathe, to look around, to settle in because this was going to take a while. i ran. and after half a mile, i kind of remembered that i could do this, that i was ready. i kept exhaling, consciously, as though i might not do it right if i didn't focus. i looked around. people talked to me, about van cortlandt park (from my singlet), about marathons, about hurricane sandy, about new york. i remember friendly faces, and smiles, but not too many words. we were running down a wide road through a commercial part of town, though everything was closed. i read the storefront signs (don't remember them) and followed the power lines above.
eventually we turned into residential areas, with spectators cheering, clutching coffee cups and signs. at 5 miles i ate a snack (clif shot blox, i think). i sipped from my handheld water bottle when i felt thirsty but reminded myself to go easy. it was warming up, and i shed the last of my toss layers so was down to capri tights and a singlet. i read the signs, looked at the faces of the spectators, listened to chatter among my fellow marathoners, which ended abruptly around mile 6.
i knew the first spectator cheer zone would be coming up around mile 7, and i was looking forward to seeing my family. the course narrowed as spectators jammed in, and finally i spotted my parents and husband and tracked to the right to give high fives. a few meters later i saw my sister with her awesome BARSUFIUS sign.
as we left the spectator zone, it got very quiet. chatter had abated, the runners concentrating on the task at hand (at foot?). i read the cheer signs. my favorites: "right foot, left foot, blue foot, red foot, OOPS wrong poem, never mind keep running!" and "if this were easy, it would be called your mom." we kept running. eventually we left the housing area and crossed a bridge over the james river. i knew the next part of the race would be scenic but hilly, so i decided to focus on the scenery. the river was beautiful in the still-morning light. a few bursts of chatter could be heard among the runners. we negotiated hills until we ended up right on the bank of the river, amid trees with autumn foliage, and the morning sunlight slanting down onto the water. it was so pretty. a series of signs touted the marathon times of various celebrities, ending with a dig at paul ryan (ha). several of us decided we could beat oprah (finish time: 4:30something i think). the miles passed, i ate another snack, and started alternating between water and powerade at the aid stations. a local runner ran alongside me for a while trying to offer course advice, but i didn't have enough familiarity with the area or course to make sense of it. somewhere in there was a spectator cheer zone around mile 13, and i was still feeling ok here, at least enough to smile and greet my family. i think we came over a hill and the group was gathered at the bottom of the hill. i don't remember this one too well to be honest.
there was another big bridge, back across the james river, that seemed to last forever. the sun was high in the sky now, and the heat was building. the bridge was deceptively long, and i felt like i was running in place. eventually we made it across and got to mile 17, where they were handing out pretzels and gummy bears. the very thought turned my stomach, so i ate my last snack (powergels maybe?) and continued alternating powerade and water at aid stations and sipping from my handheld.
the next miles are super hazy, i don't remember what came in what order. we ran past a university, with brick building and tree-lined quads. through a funky downtown area with cafes and shops. i made it a point to read the names in the windows, though i don't remember any of them. the sun was high and i tried to stay on the shaded part of the street. i saw someone fall out of the corner of my eye, on the other side of the street. found a course marshall on a bike and told him, but he said he was just a spectator. another runner asked if he couldn't call someone to help, but the man got up and kept running, so we did too.
i knew i was fading, but i also knew the last spectator zone was coming up around mile 20, so i focused on that and the lift i would get from seeing my family again. by the time it got there, i was feeling desperate and wanted nothing more than to be finished. no smiles this time around, i told my mom i was ready to be done and she said, "you almost are, you are doing great, keep going." deep breath.
they say the marathon really begins at mile 20, and in some ways, they are right. i knew i had the equivalent of a 10k to go, and i knew on any other day, i could run that no problem. but right now it felt insurmountable. i wanted to stop, to cry, to lie down on the asphalt. i wanted to click my heels (assuming i could have managed that maneuver) and go home. i envied every spectator sitting in a chair. signs that might have been funny 10 miles ago just irritated me now: "i bet this seemed like a great idea 4 months ago" and "i trained for months to hold this sign". i wanted to smack those people but lacked the energy.
i remember very little about the course at this point. we were back in residential areas. at some point we passed a gospel choir (very cool) and a university. in addition to water and powerade, some random folks were offering beer and bourbon. ha. a couple of the aid stations gave out cool washcloths, which felt great. but overall, i really struggled in the late miles. especially after 21 which was the farthest i had ever run before.
the only thing i was really aware of was how tired i felt, and how far i had to go. i kept telling myself that this was not over. in some small way i was saving something in the tank, because as whiny and miserable as i felt at this point, i would be damned if i was going to finish limping. so every mile or so, i did a systems check to see if i was ready to kick it in. "if i go now, can i hold it for the remaining miles?" the answer kept being no. i felt pretty down and wanted to cry, but i told myself no crying til the finish line. i did take it very easy during those late miles though, and i left a few minutes on the course as a result. by mile 24, the answer to my question was still no, so i told myself sternly that i had this one more mile to mope, but i was going to pick up at mile 25 and go all out to the finish. i knew that 4:15 was still in reach if i finished strong.
finally, against all odds, the mile 25 marker appeared. finally, i really believed that i was actually going to do this, to finish a marathon. i found that reserve in the tank, and i snapped out of my funk and just ran. this really was the first time, EVER, that i KNEW i could finish. i honestly felt delirious. volunteers were telling us how the course would go -- right at the end of the block, two blocks, then a left, then it's downhill to the finish -- something like that, i don't remember exactly. i couldn't wait, i just wanted to be there. emotionally, it was a 180-degree turn in the space of less than a mile. we were downtown now, tall buildings, but few spectators. i did not care. i was searching the horizon for the mile 26 sign like it was some kind of oasis.
sure enough, we turned the corner, and i saw the crazy STEEP downhill finish. i was on cloud 9, beyond excited. i remember telling myself, "you are about to finish your first marathon! remember this feeling!" then i saw my family, who i didn't know would be there at that point in the race, and things just could not get any better! i shouted to them, "i'm almost done!" like they didn't know, haha. MILE 26, i saw the sign. a huge grin split across my face, and i just ran pell-mell down the hill without a care in the world. i felt like i was flying (clearly delusional), i saw the finish line and the rest is a blur. i finished. 4:12:55. i didn't even cry after all, it was all joy.
i grabbed a heat sheet and watched the other finishers come through. limped to the spot where i had planned to meet my family and finally sat down. i was hot and cold. i was exhausted and elated. i was starved and nauseous. i was thirsty. everything i was perceiving seemed to come through a thick sheet, a buzz, a blur. like i couldn't process information at my normal rate. we rendezvous'd and eventually made our way to lunch. i was tired but not totally out of commission. another group of people at the restaurant were celebrating a marathon finish so we exchanged congratulations. then back to car, where i snoozed most of the way home.
we had a big dinner, and cake, and it just felt good to be done, to have finished what i started out to do, and to have done it with my family there. i was walking funny but overall i didn't feel half as sore as i did after my first half marathon. which, in retrospect, i ran faster than i had any business doing, so maybe that's why. but anyway. i finished.
here is the garmin report:
Distance: 26.37 mi
Time: 4:12:57
Avg Pace: 9:36 min/mi
| 1 | 9:31.0 | 1.00 | 9:31 |
| 2 | 9:26.3 | 1.00 | 9:26 |
| 3 | 9:16.3 | 1.00 | 9:16 |
| 4 | 9:16.4 | 1.00 | 9:16 |
| 5 | 9:15.9 | 1.00 | 9:16 |
| 6 | 9:16.6 | 1.00 | 9:17 |
| 7 | 9:12.8 | 1.00 | 9:13 |
| 8 | 9:16.2 | 1.00 | 9:16 |
| 9 | 9:30.8 | 1.00 | 9:31 |
| 10 | 9:08.7 | 1.00 | 9:09 |
| 11 | 9:30.5 | 1.00 | 9:31 |
| 12 | 9:38.8 | 1.00 | 9:39 |
| 13 | 9:22.9 | 1.00 | 9:23 |
| 14 | 9:26.7 | 1.00 | 9:27 |
| 15 | 9:18.8 | 1.00 | 9:19 |
| 16 | 9:29.1 | 1.00 | 9:29 |
| 17 | 9:27.9 | 1.00 | 9:28 |
| 18 | 9:47.1 | 1.00 | 9:47 |
| 19 | 9:45.9 | 1.00 | 9:46 |
| 20 | 10:05.0 | 1.00 | 10:05 |
| 21 | 9:42.1 | 1.00 | 9:42 |
| 22 | 10:30.7 | 1.00 | 10:31 |
| 23 | 10:28.7 | 1.00 | 10:29 |
| 24 | 10:25.4 | 1.00 | 10:25 |
| 25 | 10:30.3 | 1.00 | 10:30 |
| 26 | 9:25.7 | 1.00 | 9:26 |
| 27 | 2:50.7 | 0.37 | 7:4 |
