The Marathon!!

The alarm goes off at 4:45 AM. I check my knee. It feels almost normal! No significant swelling. No stiffness. I can finally walk normally! I'll have a chance to run the marathon today! I'm excited. I strap on the IT band and patella band as precautionary measures.

It's 6:30 AM, it's time to head off to the starting corrals. I can feel the adrenaline. Maybe I'll have a great run. I'm thinking "I want to get under 4 hours and 30 minutes." The gun goes off and everyone gives a loud cheer. Within seconds, I pass the starting gate. I can hear the chirps of everyone's stopwatch. I look to my right and I can see the sun come up. "Here we go again" I think to myself with a smile. Miles one through nine melt away. They're over in no time and I'm feeling fresh as a daisy. This is where the Half Marathon turn round point is. Beyond this point is completely new territory for me. This is the side of the race I have never seen. The crowd of runners thins out as well as the number of spectators. It gets a lot quieter. It starts to feel more like my weekly training runs. I'm well ahead of the 4:15 pace group. At this rate I'll finish around 4 hours and 10 minutes. I'm excited about my chances. Another few miles melt away and I find myself at mile 15. I'm expecting to see my wonderful wife soon. I just know seeing her and my family will give me some inspiration. I've got to make sure to look cool when I pass them. I have to let her know my knee is doing just fine. The mile 16 marker passes and I'm constantly scanning the crowds for her yellow sweater. My eyes are grabbed by any flash of yellow along the sidelines. I still haven't spotted her yet. All of the sudden I see a familar face. It's my cousin Frances! She yells "They're close! They're just two bus stops down!" My eyes light up and I push on. I spot the first bus stop about 300 hundred feet away. I see the second just after that. And then I see them waving. It's my wife and brother! It looks like she's asking me something. I figure she's wondering where my cousin is. I use my thumb and point backwards. Now it looks like she's asking if I want to take off my skull cap and gloves. I gesture as to say no and I run off. The next couple of miles go by and I start thinking that I should grab for some fruit. I grab a banana and an orange slice. Things are going dandy. I'm on my 20th mile and I'm starting to feel some lactic acid building up in my quads. They're starting to twitch. I worry that a cramp may be setting in. At mile 21, the cramps are setting in. I try to run through it but it is becoming difficult. I'll have to stop and stretch it out. I don't want to lose too much time, but the cramps are taking longer than expected to work out. I get back into the stream and continue running. I run for a few hundred feet and the cramps come back. I start becoming really concerned. I'm so close to the end. Only a few more miles to go. I have to fight through it. I run some more. I'm forced to stop again to stretch and massage. I continue this pattern until I get back to downtown. At this point, the 4:15 pace group and the 4:30 pace group have caught up with me and have passed me. I feel frustrated and disappointed. A part of me feels miserable. I hear the cheers of encouragement. "C'mon Phil! (yeah, many spectators misread my bib and called me 'Phil') You're almost there!" I try to push on but my quads feel like solid marble. I stagger into downtown and see my cousin Frances again. I see her aiming her fancy SLR camera at me and I think "I've gotta look cool for the shot." I start moving my feet and run. She says "they're just up ahead." I decide that I must run the last stretch no matter what. If my quads explode, I have to keep running. So I do exactly that. All of the sudden I see them. It's like a breath of fresh air. I see my wife, brother, and some good friends on the sidelines. I hear them cheer. "GOOO PHI!" The moment is incredibly touching. It's the beautifully pleasant sound of familiarity. I give the last few hundred feet my all. I'm amazed that my legs are still even able to move in their solid state. I see the big timer on the finish line gate. The pain is excruciating. I close my eyes for a moment and keep pushing. A moment later I find myself crossing the last timing strip. Almost immediately, a man comes to me and congratulates me as though he knows me. I'm almost startled by it. He grabs my shoulder and says "You did it! Even through all the pain, you did it! You did it!" I appreciate the camaraderie. I smile and reach out to his hand to say thank you. I notice he's got the finisher's medal already on. He must have come back out to support the other runners. I love that about the running community. Several other volunteers are also there to congratulate me. I limp forward into the convention center. Volunteers are lined up to pass out medals. I'm not sure which line to get into. I know there are some for the half marathoners and some for the full marathoners. I look around almost lost. And I see this lady rush up to me to congratulate me. She puts the medal around my neck and I finally know it's time to rest.

I finished at 4 hours 41 minutes 14 seconds (10 minutes after gun time). Not exactly what I was hoping for, but at least I've got something to beat next year.

I'd like to send out a very heartfelt "thank you" to my wife, my family, and my friends who supported me out there. Your support meant the world to me. You see, the thing about running is it makes you feel like you're somewhere else. It feels like living an entire lifetime in the span of a few hours. And when you finally see a familiar face in crowd? Well, that's like finding home again.

-phi

Check out the last 30 seconds of my race. I show up around the 16th second. I'm wearing grey.