Part II of the Marine Corps Marathon... Click here if you missed Part One.
It seemed ironic that I wrote this recent blogpost for RunHaven, because now I was living it in real life. My entire morning was stressful and I was agitated. The race plan I had carefully devised over the past few weeks had been blown to smithereens. I looked down on my arm, where the night before I had written down the necessary pace times with a Sharpie to make sure I got where I needed to be before the bridge closed. That was now useless. Instead of sitting down and relaxing for an hour or so before the race, I had been standing and waiting at the security line. The last few moments I spent sprinting across a parking lot and busting my butt to get to the starting line.
It seemed ironic that I wrote this recent blogpost for RunHaven, because now I was living it in real life. My entire morning was stressful and I was agitated. The race plan I had carefully devised over the past few weeks had been blown to smithereens. I looked down on my arm, where the night before I had written down the necessary pace times with a Sharpie to make sure I got where I needed to be before the bridge closed. That was now useless. Instead of sitting down and relaxing for an hour or so before the race, I had been standing and waiting at the security line. The last few moments I spent sprinting across a parking lot and busting my butt to get to the starting line.
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| My cheat sheet |
Yet now here I was... running a marathon. There was nothing I could do about it now except smile.
Some quick math. We crossed the starting line 20 minutes after we expected. With my superior mathematical brain, I was able to deduce that since the bridge was at mile 20, that meant we would have to make up 1-minute every mile. No, I did not have a calculator. I'm just that smart.
Stefany and I ran together and I kept an eye on the watch. My original calculations assumed a 12-minute pace for running and an 18-minute pace for walking, but now we needed to make up time.
I didn’t want either of us to bonk. I was afraid that pushing the pace too much would cause exactly that, but I just let Stefany lead the way. She generally ran 11:15 minute miles, and when she asked me how our pacing was, I would just say, “Good.” If she dipped under 11 minutes I would pull her back a little, but for the most part I just let her think she was running 12-minute miles.
One thing I drastically underestimated was our walking pace. Stefany lives in New York City and, as everyone knows, there is normal walking pace and there is New Yorker walking pace. Stefany was pushing out our “walking” miles under a 16-minute pace and I knew if we could keep it up that we’d get across the bridge, even with the late start.
One thing I drastically underestimated was our walking pace. Stefany lives in New York City and, as everyone knows, there is normal walking pace and there is New Yorker walking pace. Stefany was pushing out our “walking” miles under a 16-minute pace and I knew if we could keep it up that we’d get across the bridge, even with the late start.
The rain fell lightly for an hour, but aside from weighing down my doubled-up socks it was pretty much a non-factor. It wasn’t hot enough for the rain to have a cooling effect and it was more of a nuisance than anything. We ran through the early stages of the race, up and down a few hills and through places like Georgetown, where people lined the streets and cheered. The crowds were great all day and the marathon seemed very accessible to spectators, as I noticed the same people holding the same exact signs in multiple locations.
Then there was the “Blue Mile.”
For a mile of the race, people held American flags on either side of our path, giving it somewhat of a tunnel effect. Many of the volunteers holding the flags called out our names and gave us high-fives as we passed. But the more poignant moment was when we ran through placards set up on both sides of the road with photographs of fallen soldiers. So many young lives lost. Some of the pictures were military-photographs and some depicted scenes of the soldier with their families. I’ve always thought that the act of running, and especially a longer-distance run, has a way of stirring up emotion within. Combine that with the moving scene that unfolded step after step after step and it made for a very moving tribute that I won’t soon forget.
For a mile of the race, people held American flags on either side of our path, giving it somewhat of a tunnel effect. Many of the volunteers holding the flags called out our names and gave us high-fives as we passed. But the more poignant moment was when we ran through placards set up on both sides of the road with photographs of fallen soldiers. So many young lives lost. Some of the pictures were military-photographs and some depicted scenes of the soldier with their families. I’ve always thought that the act of running, and especially a longer-distance run, has a way of stirring up emotion within. Combine that with the moving scene that unfolded step after step after step and it made for a very moving tribute that I won’t soon forget.
Of particular note the whole weekend was the presence of the US Marine Corps. Marines handed out bibs at the expo, they worked security, marines answered questions and worked the water stations. And marines cheered us on. I remember one in particular ordering us in a drill-sergeant tone to keep our heads up – that we were “doing something great.” I loved that. I wish there was more of that. I almost wanted to be yelled at by Sgt Hulka, Lou Gossett Jr, or R Lee Ermey.
Even with our escalated pace, my legs were feeling strong as we passed the half way point and into miles 15,16, and 17. The bridge was getting closer and by now I was confident that it was an obstacle that we would easily overcome. Though I knew we were still relatively in the back of the pack, that was becoming more and more evident as we continued on from this point. With the security debacle at the beginning, the start was a mess for more than that reason alone. As some of the thousands of runners trapped behind me at security eventually hit the start, they needed to pass through all of us slower runners, which made for a tremendous amount of weaving. Some people blame the walkers for the weaving, but the fast runner behind you is sometimes just as annoying as the slow runner ahead of you.
During our running sets, we passed through a tremendous number of walkers – sometimes they were unknowingly lined up across the entire street making passing nearly impossible. I had asked my running coach about walking etiquette – he told me to raise my hand when I transitioned from running to walking, and to get to the right side. For the most part, that was what we did. But this etiquette is either not widely known or widely ignored, and it was certainly an issue.
We continued on, cruising to the bridge without ever questioning whether or not we would actually make it or feeling as though we had to rush to get there in time. Even with the rocky start, we made it. Well… we made it this far. There was still another 6.2 to go.
The sun came out as we ascended the bridge and by the time we went over it, it was actually blazing pretty strong. As we wound down another 7-minute burst of running, we assessed the situation. There were to be no straggler buses in our future. Around the half-way point we had discussed our pace and possible finish times. We were so far ahead, I actually thought 5:30 was attainable if we kept at it. Stefany even suggested picking up the pace after we safely crossed the bridge. But once we got there, it was a different story.
My legs were feeling pretty good and I felt as though my energy levels were strong, but as we walked over the bridge my mouth started to get that feeling like I was going to throw up – bile worked its way to my tastebuds. Maybe it was the heat or the free jelly beans I ate. All I wanted was water, but the next station wasn’t very close. I had run 2 marathons before and throughout both of those and all the training runs involved, I never once felt like I might throw up. Even now, my body felt fine except for this horrible taste. At the end of the walking set I popped my earbuds back in and began to trot when Stefany grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s just walk a little longer.”
“Ok,” I said, relieved that I wasn't going to lose the contents of my stomach. So we decided to celebrate reaching the bridge in time by walking for what should have been a 7-minute running set. It worked out well – my nausea fully abated and we were ready to go again as we went through Crystal City. The pain in my legs began intensifying and I could sense that Stefany was beginning to have serious issues herself. Her pace slowed markedly and her gait wasn’t as fluid as it had been. When she started asking if we stop and walk before our 7-minute intervals were finished, I knew it was trouble. We had less than 5 miles to go – and I was feeling some pain, but it was the strongest I had ever felt at this point in a marathon. Of course, I was well off my normal overall pace, but in a way not being in as much pain allowed me to enjoy it more.
At mile 23 we passed our hotel. I remember thinking that passing your hotel at this point might be a tempting opportunity for escape, but my head was in a good place and I knew we were going to finish. The pain was there, and I remember thinking that I should try not to display it too much because I felt Stefany needed some motivation to get to the finish at this point, and if I commiserated with her agony, it might just lead us to walk the rest of the way. Her undertrained legs were in pain – we tried to run a few times, but it was never for more than 3 or 4 minutes at a time.
"You go," she would plead. "You run ahead and I'll meet you there."
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| A rare sight: Someone accomplishing something at the nation's Capitol. |
I couldn't leave her - God forbid she twisted an ankle or hit the wall even harder. Who would pull her through the finish? My PR was never an attainable goal today. In many ways, the best reason for me to run this race was to watch her finish her first marathon. And besides, this was the Marine Corps Marathon and I'd be damned if I was going to leave someone behind. Semper Fi!
We pushed on. Every now and then I would ask if she could run. Sometimes she'd say yes, sometimes no. But we kept moving forward. At a certain point, my desire to run was heightened just so that we would get to the finish line already. With a mile to go, 11 or 12 minutes of moving seemed a lot better than 19 or 20. I started tasting the post-race beer.
Like a trooper, Stefany marched on. I could see the pain in her face, but at this point I knew she could taste the finish.
"You're going to do it," I encouraged. "You're going to finish your first marathon."
Before we knew it, we were at the base of the hill - the final few hundred yards of the race that is quite steep and lined with Marines cheering you on. You would think that after 26.18 miles, the last thing you would want to see is a hill. But with the finish line in sight and all of the encouragement from the supporters and the marines, it practically feels like a downhill. The energy brought us back into a trot and we ran the final yards through the finish line.
At the end, a marine salutes you and places a medal around your neck before you make your way over to the Iwo Jima Memorial for a photo with your medal. It's a pretty cool way to finish a race.
Despite clocking in at a somewhat disappointing 5:53:45, we did, in fact, finish. For me, it was a wake up call that marathon training isn't a part-time thing I can approach nonchalantly. For Stefany, it was her first taste of the marathon finish line, and I don't think it will be her last. To most people, the marathon medal is nothing but a near-worthless trinket. But when you earn it, it's special, and it has a way of making you want more.
Even with the inconvenient start, the experience this race offered was once-in-a-lifetime. Sure, things could have gone smoother. I know a lot of people who trained extremely hard with a goal to PR in this race, only to have to weave through throngs of slower runners due to the security delay and come up short. That sucks. I had no such goal, but I can understand the disappointment.
Stefany and I found the shuttle buses back to the hotel, but first found some friends out at the bar for a post-race celebration. When you burn 4,000 calories it sort of gives you carte blanche for the rest of the day and we didn't waste it. The whole day was an unforgettable experience, and even though we had such difficulty in the beginning, it's a race I wouldn't hesitate to do again.
Lastly, I just want to say congratulations, Stefany. You are officially a marathoner. Welcome to the club!
Even with the inconvenient start, the experience this race offered was once-in-a-lifetime. Sure, things could have gone smoother. I know a lot of people who trained extremely hard with a goal to PR in this race, only to have to weave through throngs of slower runners due to the security delay and come up short. That sucks. I had no such goal, but I can understand the disappointment.
Stefany and I found the shuttle buses back to the hotel, but first found some friends out at the bar for a post-race celebration. When you burn 4,000 calories it sort of gives you carte blanche for the rest of the day and we didn't waste it. The whole day was an unforgettable experience, and even though we had such difficulty in the beginning, it's a race I wouldn't hesitate to do again.
Lastly, I just want to say congratulations, Stefany. You are officially a marathoner. Welcome to the club!
