Marathon Day

Sunday, May 25, 2008 - It's finally here!

I woke up that Sunday morning feeling well-rested and oddly calm and peaceful. Normally, I have tons of nervous energy, even for the shortest of races. Perhaps it was that I knew I was going into this marathon with no expectations, short of finishing. Or perhaps I was just too stupid to know what loomed ahead of me. I had layed out my clothes the night before to ensure that nothing was overlooked. I put on my favorite Mizuno runnning skirt (it has a deep zippered pocket), my Saucony tank top, my Mizuno Wave Rider shoes, Balega socks (which actually came before the shoes), and put my hair up in a ponytail. I had purchased a Bondi Band at the Expo on Saturday in the hopes that it would hold any hair back from getting in my face, keep sweat from pouring into my eyes, and be cooler than a hat. It did not let me down. I ate my 1/2 PowerBar and 1/2 banana and took the bagel for the shuttle ride. Jeff and I did a last minute check and readied to leave the room. I looked at him and asked, "Are you ready to go change our lives?" He responded with a resounding "Yes" and down to the lobby we went to wait on the shuttle that would take us near the Start Line. We were both impatient as we waited, but not nearly as impatient as a woman who walked up to us as we went outside. Keep in mind there was a large, yellow sign that said, "Shuttle Bus for Marathon Boards Here" right outside our hotel. There were no other large yellow signs in the parking lot at all. This lady walks from the parking lot to the sidewalk with a surgical mask hanging from her ears. Since she didn't have a scapel in one hand, I figured she probably wasn't there for surgery. However, as she got closer and I noticed the snot running out of her nose, I wished that she had put the mask in place. She was so freakin' worried about the bus and if it was going to be late that she kept walking out to the parking lot to look for it. On time, it pulled up and we didn't offer to share a seat with runny-nose lady. The shuttle ride was relatively short, there were many conversations taking place and it reminded me of my middle school bus ride, minus the bullies and someone taking my lunch money. The shuttle stopped and off we walked, following the sounds of music and announcements. We must have looked like a line of lemmings heading toward the cliff.

We found The Cathedral of St. Paul, where a short, ecumenical service was being held for the runners. We found seats and turned ourselves over for a few short minutes. I do have to admit that I found it peaceful and calming to be in the Lord's house before taking on such a daunting task. While blessings from various cultures were being offered up, I said my own prayers for safety for us and the other runners; for Jeff's achilles which I knew had been bothering him; and for strength to persevere. We left the 15-minute service and went to Battery Park to check our bag and use a last-minute Port-a-Potty. The line to check the bag was short and the line to use the restroom was long. But, there were plenty of facilities so we knew the lines would move quickly. While standing in line, I realized that I had made a HUGE error! I had put my iPod in the pocket of the jacket I had on. I had initially intended to discard the jacket at the Start Line once the event started, but at the last minute, I put it in the bag without removing my iPod. I stepped out of line and went over the truck where bags were being loaded. I explained to the woman who was loading what happened and asked if she could find my bag. While she was looking, a gentleman came running over saying over and over again, "I've messed up so bad, I've messed up so bad". Turns out he had left his gels and nutrition in his bag. Luckily, she was able to find both of our bags relatively quick and back in line for the potty I went. As soon as Jeff and I exited potty area, they were announcing for everyone to line up. Yikes!! IT WAS TIME!!

I approached the pacing areas. This was the first race I had done with pace signs and I was remiss to see that the slowest pace time was 5 hours. Jeff and I stood together in the front of that pace group while the National Anthem was played and it was then time for me to move to the very back. I kissed him and wished him luck. It seemed like only seconds before the gun went off and away we went.

The first 3 miles were through the downtown and surrounding neighborhood. The crowds were large and loud and easy to draw energy from. I was "running my race" and struggled to not go out too fast as I had in previous races. I felt comfortable, in control, and my breathing was not labored. I did not wear my heart rate monitor because for long runs, it tends to press too hard in the areas my hernias were repaired and cause me discomfort. I passed kids with their hands outstretched and made sure to give them high fives. I thanked police officers and volunteers. I saw a man in a Speedo playing an accordian. Where else are you going to see that? I told myself that I was there to enjoy myself and not compete. After mile 3, we went into a highway area, known as the Beltline. The area was closed to traffic and on the way, I got to see some of the wheelchair racers coming the opposite direction. Once on the Beltline, the leaders were coming. They looked fast and strong. I often wonder if I don't have it better being slow. I at least get to enjoy my surroundings, while I imagine that they only have one goal in mind - finish fast without throwing up or passing out. I knew that an acquaintance from Greenville, Justin, was attempting to do it in 3 hours or less so he should be in this group. I didn't know how I would recognized him, but then I zoned in on the Fleet Feet Greenville shirt. I yelled out, "Way to go, Justin, you've got this!" A few seconds later, I heard, "Gerri, is that you?" I turned and gave him a wave. Justin would finish in 3:05. I enjoyed the Beltline and got into a good rhythm. I was listening to my book at this point and realizing that it did keep my mind occupied. I made sure to walk through every water stop and beginning at the third one, I took in Gatorade at every other one. This made me nervous as I had not used Gatorade on any other run and it tends to upset my stomach. But, it was painfully clear that the temperature was going to be higher than forecasted and I would need to replace my electrolytes.

At mile 10, I started slowing down. My breathing still felt good, but I was beginning to have terrible cramps in my calves. I tried to walk and stretch them out, but they were so tight and painful. I tried to run some and they felt better when running, but as soon as I stopped to walk for a few seconds, they tightened right back up. I truly began to wonder if I could do this. Could I go on 16 more miles feeling this way? The negative voices in my head began to scream at me. I knew I was in way over my head. I also knew that an aid station was approaching at mile 11.1. I thought that I could go ahead and turn in my chip there and make it to Waterfront Park to wait on Jeff to finish. I battled this for what seemed like an eternity. I walked mainly by myself, being passed by people that looked like they were much less fit, much older, or weighed much more. I was on a part of the bike path that had railroad tracks to my right and there was a train going. I though briefly about hopping it just to have it take me away. I approached the aid station at 11.1 and realized that everyone there had their back to the runners. It appeared that they were packing everything up and so, I just kept going. I knew that I would get to Waterfront Park at around 14-15 miles and I could just stop there. So, for the next 3 miles, I listened to my book, walked as fast as I could, ran in brief spurts, and thought, "My day will be over soon." But then a funny thing happened as I neared the park. I could hear the music blaring and the announcer calling out results. I saw the large hill on Battery in front of me. I had a decision to make....

While not the most sane thing I've ever done, I reached in deep and decided that I had not come that far to quit. Quitting was a word that I despise. I was not injured, puking, or dehydrated. I wasn't running, but I could walk and if I had to walk the next 11.2 miles, dammit, I was going to do just that. I don't remember ascending the hill, but I do know the Tyco drummers were gone at that point, packed up figuring they had helped out all of those who would finish. I jogged when I could on the downhills and my calves were finally beginning to release a bit. In a neighborhood, I saw a very welcome site - other people! yay!! I rushed my steps and caught up with some of them. I walked/jogged for a bit with a girl from California. This was her second marathon. She was very nice and offered me a snack if I needed it. I then came upon a mother and daughter. The daughter was encouraging her mom to keep on going. They were awesome! I remember at Mile 20, thinking and saying, "Only a 10K left". I knew long ago that I would not meet the 6 hour time limit. But I knew that I was going to meet my goal and finish this marathon. For the next 6 miles, we were on a narrow bike path. I kept looking for views of the lake, but all I saw were trees, weeds, grass and the backs on homes. By this time, many of the residents who had waited so patiently to use the path which had been closed during the marathon began to zoom past me on their bicycles. I started to try to barter my Garmin for a Schwinn. By this time, my feet were burning and I felt that I had blisters on my small toes. Since mile 4, I had some pain in the first metatarsals each time I raised my foot off the ground. I could feel that my back, shoulders and neck were getting sunburned. I could see the mother-daughter up ahead and California and I continued to play cat and mouse. I could also see two of the members of the "End Stroke" team. RELENTLESS FORWARD MOTION, RELENTLESS FORWARD MOTION, I CAN DO THIS, I AM STRONG, were some of the mantras I used. However, the book did help give me an escape. If I felt my mind wandering to the pain my body was feeling, I simply said, "let's go back to Grafton" and concentrated hard on the words coming through my earbuds. At Mile 25, I noticed that California kept stopping to run something on her hamstrings and glutes. She was cramping up. I asked her as I went past if I could help and encouraged her to keep moving, we were almost there. As bad as I wanted to stop and help her, if I had I knew that I too would cramp up and it would be oh so difficult to get started again. As I got closer to the end of the bike path, more and more people passed me in the opposite direction, their medals shining in the afternoon sun, their arms full of bagels, bananas, apples and water. Ahhh, water... the aid stations were gone for us after Mile 22, so I had now gone over 3 miles with no water. I was chewing a piece of gum like a champ, just trying to keep my mouth moist. As I came off the bike path, I saw the most wonderful site. No, it wasn't the Ben & Jerry's truck. It was my wonderful husband Jeff, cheering for me, telling me I could do this. His medal was proudly hanging from his neck. I was SO proud of him and so happy to see him. All that I could get out was, "I didn't quit". I heard him say that there was only about .3 of a mile left. I turned and confirmed that he said 3 tenths, he had and said he'd meet me at the finish line. I knew that I had made a promise to myself to finish this thing running. Never had I crossed a finish line walking and I knew that I had it in me. I picked up my pace. I started running. Now, it was not a sprint, nor was it really a run, but more like a slow jog, but at that moment to me, it felt like I was flying. I turned one corner, I could hear the announcers telling us that they would stay and announce until the last person crossed, so not to sprint and risk injury. I turned another corner and was closing the distance on the Stroke team. As I approached them, I told them that I had been behind them all day. They told me to go ahead and go around them and that I was awesome. Me? Awesome? No way! We were all awesome! There were still a few people left in the park and they enthusiastically cheered me to the finish line. I heard the announcers say, "And here comes 1261, that's Gerri Plain from Easley, SC." Holy crow! That's ME!!!! They then said they were from Bluffton and I gave them a thumb's up for SC. And there, in the sun is the Finish Line. And there I go - crossing it. Jeff rushed out and hugged me and we both cried. I still kept saying, "I didn't quit, I didn't quit". My time was 6:22:24. Not stellar by any means. But the time doesn't matter because no matter how long it took me, I went the distance and I am a marathoner!