I’ve been waiting around trying to come off of Cloud 9 before writing this report, but I don’t think it’s going to happen soon enough, so please excuse my childish excitement and elation for accomplishing a silly, little, worldly goal that really doesn’t mean a whole lot in the grand scheme of things.
However childish, silly, and worldly the goal might have been, though, it still served as a big ol’ monkey on my back.
A constant voice in the back of my head.
A nagging “but you still haven’t…” attached to anything I have accomplished.
I’d like to say I’ve been able to ignore those things, but I can’t honestly deny their unwanted presence.
It has something to do with the way I am wired.
For better or worse, like it or not, it’s just the way I am.
2008 - a brand new year. But it didn’t seem so brand new to me as the clock struck midnight and the ball dropped on Times Square on Jan 1st. I had intended on breaking 4 hours at the Rocket City Marathon 3 weeks earlier, but failed miserably. It was hot and humid, I puked at mile 19, and I shuffled/walked the last 7 miles dehydrated and miserable to finish with a 4:45. I was supposed be starting my 20 week Half Iron training plan for the Gulf Coast Half Ironman (a precursor to Ironman Florida in November), but the Rocket City debacle was weighing too heavily on my mind. So I kept running and signed up for the Rock-N-Roll Arizona marathon. A rematch. Not necessarily a balls-to-the-wall-gotta-get-under-4-hours-kinda-thing, but a let’s-remember-how-to-run-strong-and-have-fun without-being-buried-in-the-numbers-kinda-thing. I ran when I felt like it, about 3 times a week, and scaled the taper mileage back even further. I got a cheap plane ticket to Phoenix and set out to have some fun.
I stayed with the awesome Trimama (RNR sherpa this time) and Lora (who ran was running the half). We met up with Commodore (and his beautiful wife and cool Mighty Mo), IronJenny, IronGirlNyhus, Greg, Erin and Sarah for dinner Friday night. Saturday morning at the expo we all met up with even more bloggers, including TriDummy, TriShannon, Momo, MarathonerInTraining, Pat and Jumper. The expo was a mad house, but Trimama, Lora and I managed to stay together and do some shopping. Dinner was at the Macaroni Grill, where I also got to the pleasure of meeting none other than the beautiful Frankie (little Momo), JavaMom, and Taryn (My Life And Running) for the first time. A good carbo-loading time was had by all.
TriShannon, Momo,TriDummy, Jumper, Trimama, and me
Frankie and Momo
TriDummy and Aime
Eric(MarathonerInTraining), IronJenny, and Erin
Pat and his wife, Amy
Frankie eating a lemon! Did I mention how cute she is?
Me and Taryn
Me and Trimama
I talked to Erin (IronJenny’s friend) several times and we decided to run together. I was a little concerned because
Erin had originally been going for a
3:45, but some injuries had hindered her training and now she just wanted around
3:55. I wasn’t sure I could keep up with her, but I figured I could give it a shot.
Lora, Trimama, and myself pre-race
Trimama, Lora, TriDummy, Me, Hugo, IronJenny and Sarah I got up on Sunday morning and carried out my usual pre-race rituals – shower, shave, a touch of makeup because they have cameras out there ya know, body-glide all over, etc. I ate a Zone Bar 2.5 hours before race start and drank a Gatorade. I also took 2 Immodium to keep my stomach tame throughout the race. This was a piece of advice from Jenny, which proved to be AWESOME. The benefits of having these veterans around are wonderful! Trimama, in all her sherpa goodness, chauffeured Lora and I down to the race start. At the start, we found Jenny, Erin, Robert, Sarah, and TriDummy. We got into Coral 4 and somehow lost Tridummy.
I wore the Garmin.
I know I said I wasn’t going to, but when it came right down to it, I strapped it on. Not the HR monitor, though. The gun went off, and Erin and I took off together. I immediately noticed that my legs felt great! The temp was probably mid 40s, no wind, no humidity, and the sun was coming up nicely. I had taken a Gu about 20 minutes before start time, and had planned on re-Gu’ing every 6 miles. Erin and I chatted about everything under the sun, we ooo’d and aaahhh’d over the beautiful desert and mountains, and we sang with the bands when we knew the songs! In other words, we were having fun. I peeked at my Garmin every now and then, and noticed that except for the 1st mile, which was congested and slow (9:20, I think), we were easily hitting sub 9’s. And a lot of 8:45s and 8:50s. It didn’t worry me that it might be too fast, because it felt very easy and we were having fun. Around mile 7 I thought “I am in no hurry to get this over with. I could go on all day!” We got water at every water stop, but we took it and ran, no walking. I took my scheduled Gu at mile 6, then again at mile 12. I was happy to cross the 13.1 mile mat well under 2 hours, and I knew that my family would be happy to see that if they were tracking me at home. We ran through tons of cheering spectators at mile 14, and could hear Trimama screaming above them all! By mile 17 I started to feel a little bit of fatigue, and decided to go ahead with another Gu. It helped, but I was aware that it wasn’t going to get much easier from here on out. I thought about how strong I had run so far. I thought about the time I already had in the bank. Erin was going for 3:55, and we were right on target. I didn’t want to slow her down. We got to mile 18 and I made note that I was getting a little tired, but I had never felt this good at mile 18 of a marathon before. I started to believe that I was capable of sub-4, I just wanted to get to mile 20.
For some reason I decided at mile 18 that we had 6.2 miles left, and looking at our time I thought Erin could BQ with a 3:45…but she corrected me and reminded me that a marathon was twenty-SIX point two miles, not twenty-four. Ha! Math doesn’t make a whole lot of sense for me beyond 15 miles or so.
We reached mile 20, and I ran up behind a man with a picture of his son on the back of his shirt – he was running in his memory. A cute little boy. “What I am feeling right now is not pain, that is pain” I told myself. H.J., who had called me before I left for Phoenix, talked to me about some things to think about when it started getting hard. That was one of them. Another one is just to tell myself “There is no wall.” I said that over and over. And Erin and I talked about the fact that “Pain doesn’t hurt as much as regret.” It started hurting, though, around mile 22. My pace slowed a little, and I saw that my splits were coming in around 9:10 – 9:20. I had enough time, but I had to stay focused. I couldn’t really talk anymore, other than trying to tell Erin to go on and get her 3:55, which she refused to do. I am confident that she could have done that – she was stronger than I was in those last miles. If she wasn’t going to go on, though, I felt the least I could do was give it all I had. By this time, I stopped taking in the scenery and just focused on the road in front of me. It was warming up, the Gu's weren't lasting as long, and the fatigue was setting in. I knew that this was coming. I had been here before; it's just usually several miles earlier than this. Holly had posted about this sort of thing a while back from a book she was reading, and I took her advice and welcomed the pain.
I said “There you are. I knew you would be here. You’re not my enemy, you’re my friend. I love this pain. You’re what makes the marathon special. If it weren’t for you, everyone would do this. I want to get to know you really well, because we’re going to spend a lot of time together training for Ironman. Believe it or not, I like you. C’mon and run 4 miles with me.”
I knew I could run 4 miles, and I envisioned running from my house to the stoplight and back (4 miles) like I do all the time. Mile 23 seemed to come quicker than I expected, and I took my last Gu. I’ve never been able to handle a Gu after mile 20 before, so this was another success. Mile 24 came, and I realized that there really was not going to be a wall today. I had 2 more miles. Yes, I was VERY uncomfortable, and I was moving as fast as I could go and barely hitting 9:15 a mile, but there was no way I was quitting now. I took a cup of water at the mile 25 water stop, and they were yelling “Just over the bridge and down into the city and you’re there!!” That sounded so good. About 9 minutes later the 26 mile sign came into view and the clock said 3:36:XX. We were about 2 minutes behind the start clock. I looked at Erin and we smiled and nodded at each other. I pushed the last .2 in hard as hard as I could push, knowing that I had finally done it. I threw my arms up in victory, and felt the monkey fall off my back as we crossed the finish line in 3:56:20.
I wanted to jump up and down, but that was not physically possible, so when I saw Trimama and Lora I yelled “I DID IT! I DID IT! 3:56!!!” I was ecstatic.
I did my first marathon in April ’06 in 4:17:17. In August of ’06 I started training for a sub-4 marathon and was confident that I could do it, but came up short in Vegas with a 4:08. The Rocket City Marathon, in December ’07, was horrific, and before Jan 13th I was no longer sure that I was capable of a sub-4. Getting up at 3:30 a.m. to run 16 or 20 miles in 20 degrees is not all that fun all the time. Passing on the margaritas and late nights is annoying sometimes. But there was NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING that was overrated about crossing that mat and hearing the beeeeeeep with a clock up above my head that still had a “3” on it. Not that it’s some great feat or makes me special or anything, but because it didn’t come easy. Because it took more than following a plan; it took more than just putting in the miles. It took time. It took persistence, and it took risk. It took 2 failed attempts. It took getting back up after being knocked on my ass at Rocket City. It took family, friends, luck, and it definitely took help from up above. It took a whole lot of everything inside me.
They say nothing good comes easy. They are right.
Running a sub-4 marathon doesn’t make me much more of a runner than I was when I clocked a 4:08 over a year ago. It doesn’t put me into a class of fast runners or anything. I didn’t win any money, and I didn’t come anywhere close to being at the top of my age group. But the taste of victory – personal victory – in the face of adversity, in spite of obstacles, and notwithstanding your pride is one of the sweetest tastes there is in this world.
Pick your goal, whatever it might be, and set out to get it. Don't give up. Do not EVER give up. Embrace the adversity you might face, the obstacles you will encounter, and the probable fall of your pride. They will make your victory that much sweeter.
Splits, numbers (ofcourse!), and detailed analysis coming soon…