About ¾ through the first lap (course is 2 13.1 mi loops) I walked/ran for a bit with a really nice guy who was also giving it his first shot – first full, first marathon….we bonded for a few minutes. He was a really happy guy with a FANTASTIC attitude. I needed him for a few minutes, that’s for sure. A few miles later we both kind of realized that my running pace was a bit faster than his and I realized that me running any slower was starting to hurt more and him running faster was starting to hurt him. So we cut loose – he did finish though, and I’m proud to have shuffled along with him for awhile! I ran into Gar the first time around there and he was still having some calorie issues. He was looking better, though, and I was feeling good about both of us at that point.
It’s about then that you start chugging down this hill that’s like, 2 miles long or something. I hadn’t noticed quite how long the bleeping thing was on the way up, but it felt much better going the opposite way, that’s for sure! Finished out that loop and got to Special Needs – picked up my blessed long sleeve shirt and ditched the short sleeve (that was rubbing holes in my arms – TOTALLY forgot to body glide up before running…crap!) My good old, dependable Drumstick Dash shirt (acquired on a short run back in early spring after it was abandoned in a thicket – I let it suffer for a couple of days before rescue - it's not stealing!) and I, my little compression shorts, Capri tights, calf sleeves and visor with the newly acquired glow headband and off into the night I went. I didn’t realize how many of the half people I was still running with on that first loop, but wow did it get lonely really quick on the second.
Just trying to get back to the banners…keep running.The volunteer staff was thinned down a little bit, the course traffic had thinned out a lot, it was dark and getting cold and I was starting to hurt again. I just kind of retreated into my head and was depending on my usual tricks and jokes. “Just what makes that ant..think he can move that rubber tree plant….an ant..can’t..move a rubber tree plant…..but he’s got…HIGH HOPES!” Rinse and repeat as necessary, and don’t forget the arm motions…the innocent bystanders may think you’re crazy, but damn them it’s been a long day and the song keeps working. (I started singing the song about 20 miles into the bike ride…sometimes all you need is a slogan.)
There comes a point in the marathon where I think everyone just kind of gets delirious. All the fast people were long gone (probably already home and clean), the only ones still out there are the folks like you, the ones having a really rough day or the ones that are plugging along at their own speed. Either way, no one really feels great and everyone pretty much stops talking to each other. You start saying something to just about everyone that passes, but they’re quiet and much less intelligible than the comments were earlier. It’s now “good job” or “we’re almost there” or “keep chuggin” or something along those lines…but it’s said on a wheeze, or almost a whisper. But you know they’re still saying it too, and we’re all on the same course, and somehow that helps everyone keep going.
(Gar coming through halfway, example of how desolate and lonely it was getting...) I started seeing many more people with the space blankets wrapped around them or tucked into their shirts. Let me tell you – they make some noise! I would drive myself crazy with all that crinkling, but if it helps then go for it. I still wasn’t getting super cold (but was wearing some layers) and was getting closer to home. About mile 18 (or something like ¾ up that long-ass bastard hill) I ran out of the last “uphill” energy I had left in my body. I had, back at the beginning of the loop, decided that uphill walking was ok – well, any walking was really ok – and that I would just maintain running whenever possible. Quite frankly, I was impressed as hell that I still had the ability to run at all. I dropped a gel somewhere around 21-22 (the last one I was going to take and the one I really wanted) and was heartbroken. I couldn’t bend over to get it!! I started to try and realized with a giggle that I would face plant and I didn’t want to ruin the Drumstick Dash shirt with blood and I was NOT going to hospital because I fell over trying to get a gel that I had dropped when I had 6 others in my little pack still. Sorry Frank, I littered, maybe someone else was able to use it?!?!
Charging down the damn hill again, finding my run cadence and feeling surprisingly good (getting closer to the finish apparently does that to a person), passed a chick that had passed me a couple times during the uphills and we had a good laugh. Maybe there are benefits to not being the skinny chick and maybe I can find an “all downhill” race. I’d be unbeatable! (The natives, starting to get restless and cold....so was I - still running..)
My run nutrition was pretty much in line with what was planned on the bike, around 200 calories. I was shooting to pop salt tabs whenever needed, eat a gel an hour and carrying 20 oz of concentrated Gu2o, hoping to drink about 6 – 10 oz mixed with aid station water per hour as well. I had another bottle of drink to pick up at Special Needs to refill my fuel belt. I didn’t really manage myself to that plan though, and while I was consuming gels fairly on schedule I opted to leave the concentrate at Special Needs. Thus, I went the whole distance on 20 oz of concentrate, which should have been about 40 oz of fluid plus water. I think I was confusing the aid station volunteers when I kept saying I was fine and didn’t need anything. I felt pretty good though, and am not sure my stomach would have tolerated much more.
The last 1.5 miles starts with trudging up the last part of that damn hill you just charged down (in my case very, very slowly) and then you turn onto a Monon-like path. Then it’s across the road and into the finish chute and you’re home. I managed to coerce myself into running the path and started coaching to put my arms up as I crossed the line. I thanked the last few officers again (I’d now seen them 4 times) and that was it.
I threw my arms up in the air as I crossed the line and spent a few seconds realizing what I had just accomplished as they start throwing space blankets on you and removing chips and putting medals around your neck – it’s quite hectic and a bit more than my brain could handle at that moment. I just kept thinking, Mom and Dad over there, go left. I then started laughing because, while I was able to get my arms up, I didn’t have the energy to also lift my head, so my finish photos are quite hilarious. Run Time 5:31.
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