Pre-Race
Beth
Ann (my wife) and I started the trip down to Washington, D.C. for
Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) Weekend on Saturday morning. We had a few
stops to make before going to bed. First on the list was Packet Pickup
and the Expo followed by checking in at the hotel and then we were going
to walk to our friend Brian’s house for a party, to church, and then to
dinner before going back to the hotel to sleep. As the saying goes, “If
you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”When we arrived at Packet Pickup, there was no parking anywhere. We drove in circles before finally spotting a parking lot with TONS of parking. When we got close, the entrance was closed… so how did those cars get in there? We found the exit, turned into it, and parked our car. The line for packet pickup was an hour long. Apparently they had a power outage in the tent which delayed pickup quite a bit. Lines got progressively shorter throughout the day. Getting into the expo was only about half an hour. The line to buy stuff was only about 15 minutes. We didn’t spend much time at the Expo because we wanted to get to Brian’s party. We left and drove to Brian’s instead of the hotel.
Some of my friends and family might not know that I’ve been posting on a message board on Runners World’s website for the MCM for about a year and a half. I started posting there originally to get a few questions answered about the marathon, but I got so much more. I’ve met some incredible people. Brian and the guests at his party make up a large portion of those people. Since before I joined this amazing group, they’ve been convening at Brian’s house the night before MCM to meet up, eat some food, and talk. It’s a great (and rare) opportunity for us to meet face to face. Brian was nice enough to order some gluten free pasta so Beth Ann and I didn’t need to go find some on our own. We actually cancelled our dinner reservations and found a brew pub to grab a burger at after church and before we went to the hotel.
We got to the hotel around 8:00. We pinned our bibs to our shirts, laid out our clothes for the morning, packed our post-race bags, and we were in bed by 9:00. Everything was going perfectly.
Our alarm went off at 5:00am. Even though I know it sounds dumb, and might be just that, I always shower before a race. Yes, I’m about to go get sweaty, but there’s something said for getting really clean before getting really gross. Once we were all done getting ready, it was time to hop on the metro and head to Pentagon station to start the trek over to the starting line.
Beth Ann and I checked our bags, moved over towards the starting line, and found our group from the night before to grab a few morning pictures. Before walking to our corral, we got to witness one of the coolest and most emotional race start celebrations I’ve ever seen. Looking up to the sky, there were nearly a dozen skydivers falling from the sky, parachutes open, with American flags hanging down. Then the crowd stopped moving forward, got quiet, and we stood in silence while the national anthem was sung. A truly patriotic moment. It was made even more special knowing that many of those skydivers were wounded warriors.
After the anthem was over, we said our goodbyes to our friends and moved up to find our coral.
The Race
As
we stand in line, it’s finally hitting me that we’re running a marathon
today. I tried not to let myself get too excited or emotional about
this thing because I didn’t want to get too hyped too soon. But now it’s
time. I’m allowed to feel it. It feels exciting and horrifying at the
same time. Last year was so hard. So painful. But so much fun!The howitzer blast signifies the start of the race for the hand bikes and wheelchair racers. We’ll get our turn soon enough. I’m wearing sweatpants and a fleece top over my race clothes. I decide to take off my sweatpants so I don’t have to stop running later on to take them off. Beth Ann does the same. We’re standing here talking, planning our race, anticipating the next howitzer blast to let us know it’s time for us to run.
BOOM! The shot echoes through the chilly morning air. Our turn. The crowd slowly lurches forward. About ten minutes after the blast, we’re finally walking towards the starting line. As we cross the line, we start to run. It feels great. It’s been days since I’ve allowed myself to really run. The crowd is still thick so it’s difficult to run our pace.
I’m wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and arm sleeves right now, but it’s getting warm. I pull down my arm sleeves, but I quickly realize that it’s incredibly inconvenient to see my watch and hard to see my pace band on the other arm. The sleeves must go. We’re implementing a run/walk strategy after last year’s early meltdown (10 minutes of running followed by 2 minutes of walking). It’s been half an hour now, so it’s time to walk. I hand Beth Ann my water bottle so I can get my sleeves off. I ball them up together and toss them aside. Beth Ann hands me back my water bottle and we walk a little more before it’s time to run again.
My main goal is to beat 5 hours. That’s an 11:27 pace. We cross the first 10k mark and we’re averaging 11:06. It feels easy. I’m excited. I ask Beth Ann if we can skip a few of our planned walks to gain more time. She says no.
We’re running up a road where we can see the runners ahead of us coming back from an out and back part of the course. Man they’re fast. As we make our way up to the turn, it gets cramped. Everyone slows down to make the turn, and then we’re back on pace. Now we’re seeing the people behind us. Some of our runner friends are running as a group. Two of them are Marines. They’re carrying a Lima 3/3 Guidon (don’t call it a flag!) so they’re easy to spot. We see them coming up the road and shout to them. They look great. I feel great. Let’s do this.
As we cross the 20k timing mat, I’m still feeling great. The pace is right where it needs to be. We’re averaging 11:09 and still well on our way to a sub 5 hour finish. I’m ecstatic. Almost halfway there. This part of the course is incredibly difficult. Last year, this is when the meltdown happened. Not this time. Not now. The course through this park is lined with pictures and names of marine’s killed in action. There’s very little crowd support here, but there’s plenty to look at. I make it a point to try to read the names of every marine whose picture is posted along the course. I get a little choked up but I’m so thankful to have such brave men and women who fight for us every day.
It’s mile 16 now. My stomach is growling. I’m hungry. But I’m full of water. I’m averaging about 20oz of water per 5k. I’ve eaten a bagel and three gels. I have a snickers bar waiting for me at mile 19. No big deal. I’ll make it. WAIT! God bless these crowds. There’s a mom and her daughter handing out mini snickers bars. That will get me through to 19 without a problem. I grab one, scarf it, and keep running.
Ouch! What the hell was that? My quad twitched. I’ve felt this before during long bike rides, but not during a run. It was quick, though, so hopefully it’s an isolated incident. Great! Here’s Brian, Sarah, and Lisa. Brian hands me my snickers and Beth Ann gets here peanut M&Ms. He offers us lube too, but we’re doing ok. Our fans tell us we’re looking great, so we must be. We crossed the 30k mark averaging 11:21. We’ve lost some time, but it’s not a big deal. We’re still way ahead of where we need to be to make the 5 hour finish.
As we run down towards the “Beat the Bridge” (You must make it to the bridge at mile 20 by the 5 hour mark of the marathon start in order to continue. If you don’t make it, you’re not allowed to finish), we can hear the drummers. I wish I could take them with me. The beat is so strong and deep. I can feel it in my chest and it energizes me.
I’m so excited that we’ve only got 6 miles left. This is our strongest run of the year. Not even during training did we feel this good.
Oh no. There’s that quad twitch again. Yikes. I need a stretch. We pull over and I stretch my quads, but they’re not really tight. My back hurts so I take the opportunity to quickly stretch my hamstrings. I don’t want to take too much time stretching because every second I stand on the side of the road is one more second added to our finish time. We start running again. Crap. My other quad now. They’re both cramping. I’m not dehydrated, I know it. I’ve been drinking like a camel. I just had my snickers about 15 minutes ago. Maybe I just need to give my body time to digest some of the sugars and give me some more energy.
This isn’t happening. Both of my quads are cramping. Badly. I can’t figure out what to do. I’ve told myself that this race is it for me. I’m taking time off once I’m done. I don’t need to do anything for the rest of the week. I can push through any pain I have and deal with it later. This isn’t just pain, though. This is muscle fatigue. There’s no other explanation. We’ve got 5 miles left, and I’m not going to make it.
DON’T THINK LIKE THAT. You’re fine. It hurts. You’ve already beaten the bridge. You’re going to finish this if you have to crawl.
Here comes the guilt. I’ve trained for two marathons with Beth Ann. I love her so much. I can’t hold her back. She’s feeling fine. I know she can do this. She can go ahead and still beat our time from last year if not the 5 hours we wanted from the start. We talk about it but she says she’s not leaving me. I need to stretch again. We pull over and I stretch. I’m still not tight. My quads are just tired, but stretching makes them feel better, I guess. I can’t do this to her. Run. Just run.
Nope. Not happening. If I keep going, I’m going to fall. I tell Beth Ann that I’m seriously ok with her leaving me behind, and I mean it. We plan our meeting spot for when I finish. I give her a kiss and watch her run ahead. I don’t mean it anymore. I don’t want to be alone. I’m already on a death march. I suck it up and run. She’s only been gone for about 15 seconds. I can see her right there. My eyes well up. I can’t let her get away. I catch her and tap her on the shoulder. I tell her that I changed my mind. I tell her I’ll try my best. I haven’t given up, but I can’t do it without her. We keep running. Together.
My legs are only allowing me to run for about 3-4 minutes at a time now. If that’s what I can do, that’s what I can do. I know Beth Ann is disappointed, but she might love me more than I love her… if that’s possible. She’s sincerely ok with staying back with me and helping me along. We run and walk, off and on. The walks get progressively longer. The runs get progressively shorter. I’m picking out signs, banners, people… anything I can do give me a target to run to. I point out the spot to Beth Ann and we run there. I have a fleeting moment where I think we can PR (get a new Personal Record), but then the realization of my quads comes flying back with a flash of pain. We’re on a highway overpass. We’re about to go down towards where the starting corrals were. Our pace is getting worse and worse. I saw a 14+ minute mile pop up on my watch. Yikes. It’s almost over, though.
We’ve got a mile left. One. Mile. I care about two things right now. I want to finish holding my wife’s hand and I want to run up the hill to the Marine Corps War Memorial. Now it’s about managing my muscle fatigue so that I can run the hill. We do a lot of walking this mile. As soon as I see the turn towards the hill. It’s on. Beth Ann and I start to run again. My legs feel ok. Go figure. The course is now lined with cheering fans and Marines. There’s a hand cyclist ahead of us. This hill is steep. A marine jumps out from the side of the course and starts pushing the bike up the hill. I wish I had a camera on me. What an image.
We cross the finish line after “running” for 5 hours, 22 minutes, and 51 seconds. We’ve missed our goal. But we’ve accomplished something great. We had a great time. We ran together. And damnit, we finished another marathon.
We get in line for our medals. This is the best part. I get a medal put around my neck by a marine. You’d think that would be enough… but no. I get saluted! I don’t remember if they did that last year or not. It doesn’t matter. This marine salutes ME. Who am I to them? Nobody. That’s who. But I took my salute, I shook their hand, thanked them for my medal and for their service, and then joined Beth Ann for our victory picture in front of the War Memorial.
Post Race
Beth
Ann and I got our bags from the UPS baggage pickup, took off what
sweaty clothes we could, changed shoes, went to CVS to get chips, sat on
the curb, and ate. While sitting, we saw our friend Sarah who had
cheered for us at mile 19 but joined our group with the Lima 3/3 Guidon
for the last 7 miles of their marathon. She filled us in on some stories
and then went to find some food of her own.We found a porta botty (after drinking about 8 full 20oz water bottles… even with the sweating… it’s time to pee) and then “walked” over to the metro line. It was too long so we sat down for a little bit for some more snacks. Eventually we just mustered up the strength to get in line. Once we got on the metro, we stood for the three stops it took to get to our stop. Sitting down wasn’t an option… not because we weren’t offered a seat, but because I’m not sure either of us could have stood up again. Once back at the hotel, we showered and then made plans to meet up with our friends again for dinner and drinks.
Around 6 o’clock, we went to a restaurant just two blocks from our hotel. We met up with Brian, Jen, Benny, Sarah, Jen’s brother Matt, and two friends Jess and Janet. We stayed for a few hours, rehashed our marathon experiences, and imbibed a little bit. It was great to spend more time with these folks.
Once we were too tired to stay any longer, we started back to the hotel. We got about half a block from the restaurant and had to stop to stretch. We were in bed by 9:30.
Despite the pain and disappointment, I’m holding my head high today. I have finished two marathons. Will I do another? I don’t know yet. Maybe some day. I’m realizing that my legs don’t like marathons. My mind does, though. I’m not content with my time and I’d like to improve. But for now, I’m just going to be happy with what I’ve accomplished to date.
Thank you for your support and encouragement throughout this whole thing. Also, thank you for reading.
