"Ho! Congrats on your half-marathon!"
"Excuse me?" I stammered, truly ruffled, "Half-marathon? I ran a full marathon!"
"Oh, you did?" he asked,"Well, I read the Team Apex forum and it didn't say anything about a full marathon."
His point was well taken. It has been nearly a month since my marathon and, up to now, I have written nothing of it on this forum. I guess it's about time I did.
My marathon was a fabulous experience. Not only was the weather cool and breezy and the scenery pretty, but both my parents and three of my friends came to see me at the finish line. It was their presence which truly made the experience special.
I woke up early on the morning of the marathon, ate two oranges and a Clif bar, and drank 1.5 liters of Cytomax. At the starting line an hour later, I discovered that I had been beaten to the 30+ port-a-potties by several hundred runners, who had organized themselves in sprawling lines. I considered waiting for my chance, but instead had to make it to my wave (or do they call them "heat"s?) on "full" in order to leave with the 4:15 pacer. (At this point, I was still harboring fantasies about running the race with this time. If only I knew what was in store.)
The first mile was great. The pacer was running slowly and I became prematurely convinced that the whole race was going to be this easy. This was especially true since I had naively believed a clueless runner who had told me that the entire course was flat after the 13-mile point.
As soon as the first mile was over, the pacer suddenly announced that we were going too slow and he sped way up. I knew that this new pace would be too fast to maintain. I dropped back to a slower pace.
After using the facilities at mile 3, I met the course's first hill. It really wasn't bad, and somewhere between mile 3 and mile 9 I discovered that, while San Francisco is really hilly, the hills there generally are shorter and not as steep as those we run in Idaho. This was comforting in one way, since I knew that any one of these hills would not be too difficult for me.
From mile 7 to mile 9, we ran across the Golden Gate bridge and back. This should have been the best part of the run, since it was the "prettiest". The myriad of runners around me, though, and the fact that I naturally pushed left (and, therefore, stayed pretty much in the middle of the bridge) kept me from noticing the bay below. That's too bad. Next time, I'll have to pay more attention.
After the Golden Gate Bridge, the hills kept coming and they got steeper. It was at mile 10 that I had my first mental crack. My body felt way too tired to only be 10 miles into this, and the hills kept coming. I started to panic. Could I keep this up for 16 more miles? I reminded myself that the road would be flat after mile 13, and this "knowledge" kept me going.
It was at mile 12 or so that life started to get tough. I felt much more tired than I thought I should at this point in the run, and I started to panic. This panic only got worse from mile 13-14 when, I discovered, my "informant" hadn't known what he was talking about: the course was less hilly than it had been but was hardly flat. I wondered how many more miles of hills I had to endure. I had serious doubts. Could my body do this? Why hadn't I worked harder on hills back in Idaho? Liz, what were you thinking?
Miles 13-18 were mentally challenging. I continued my self-shaming about not having trained harder on hills at home and I carried on an inner temper tantrum protesting my fatigue and my informant's ineptitude. There were spurts of walking. My left calf was starting to get sore, and the stupid people at the water stations didn't know exactly how far it was to the next mile marker, though I asked at every single one. I hid two packets of cytomax gel in my bra so I wouldn't keel over. On my training runs, eating a little gel had given me the mental pick-me-up I needed to keep going. It didn't work here, and the hills just kept coming.
It was, finally, at mile 19, that my temper tantrum gave way.
To hell with time! I decided, I don't care what anyone says. This marathon is tough and, if I finish it, I have been successful.
I reminded myself that I had only seven miles left before I got to see my dad (always a motivator), and that I only had to run these next seven miles once, so I may as well relax and enjoy it. Mile 19-20 were great: I had broken through my tantrum and was still in the beautiful park. I spent this mile enjoying my run, looking around, and enjoying the cool breeze that had strengthened me through this entire experience.
Miles 13-19 had been all in Golden Gate park, a lovely, green place covered with trees. A gentle zephyr flowed through the trees and strengthened me. Even though it's hilly, Golden Gate Park would normally be a pleasant place to run. I had not enjoyed it though, since I had spent this whole section of the course feeling betrayed and mad at myself. Even so, I think I needed to experience this frustration in order to move on.
Around mile 20, the course emerged from the park and went down into Haight-Ashbury. Frankly, I couldn't have cared less about where we were: San Francisco had again become a land of asphalt and I didn't like it. This section of the course was still hilly and it didn't take too many trips up and down before my optimism again gave way to frustration. My left calf and ankle were hurting, the distance between mile markers seemed like forever, and walking felt SO MUCH better than running. Once again, there were spurts of walking. My goal now was to finish the race, and counseling myself into continuing at a decent pace had become VERY difficult. I never walked for too long, but I never ran for too long either.
Where are the cheerleading squads, the bands, the entertainment?I asked myself. I was exhausted and everything felt like an affront, even the fact that the 80's cover band that had been promised in the brochure was actually a dorky looking guy with a boom box and speakers. What a rip off! I wanted Def Lepard impersonators!
At mile 24, the course finally became flat but I was beyond caring. I hobbled along, feeling some mix of frustration and anger at the fact that I had to keep going and my body SO didn't want to! I tried picturing Mike running with me and encouraging me, since his presence and his encouragement had kept me going so many times before. I tried to summon the imagination to create an image of Mike next to me, but the best I could do were only flashes of an image. Before I could talk to him, Mike would disappear and I was alone again on a hard road doing a task that was hurting me and pissing me off. This awful race seemed like it would never end.
I spent the last 3-4 miles jogging, walking, and cursing. It wasn't until I could actually see the 26-mile marker that I got the hootzpah to drag myself along at a little quicker pace. And finally, I saw the finish line. I picked up speed toward it. From the side, I heard someone call, "Elisabeth!" Looking, I saw my parents and my friends: Tony, Kevin, and Ram. Since I knew they were watching (yes , it was a will to perform that did it) I managed to pick it up and actually run across the finish line. This made my finish line pictures look better than if I had, say, crawled over the finish line.
Caption for the following photos: Approaching the finish line, crossing it, and then complaining that the race had been harder than I had anticipated.
Being done was awesome! I immediately went to my family and friends. I had been alone through a rough experience and I just wanted to be with them. As I started to climb over the fence separating the runners from the spectators, a spectator stopped me and informed me that I had to keep going because I hadn't gone far enough to get my finisher gear. Although swag didn't particularly interest me, I did what I was told, collected a bunch of shiny objects, stretched, and joined my family. We had a wonderful lunch and picture-taking session, and enjoyed the afternoon.
I discovered soon after the race that, even though I had not achieved near the time I wanted (4:54 versus 4:15), I had crossed the finish line before 51% of the women who ran the race. This added a little sweetness to my day. I still don't know whether that other 51% actually finished the race at all, but I don't really want to know. I finished it, and I'm happy.
Caption: My folks really were incredibly proud, which was really nice.
Caption: Lunch and photo session
I'm definitely going to run the San Francisco marathon again in a few years but, next time, I intend to do a whole bunch more hill training and see how much better I can do! I look forward to kicking my own butt!
Love you all!
Liz
Posts
