Marathon Recap

Preface: This is a recap of marathon weekend with some of its ups and downs, at least those I remember. It's already become a little vague. It is a long blog with a few pictures. For actual marathon pictures, you'll have to check out the ones Frank posted on the right. Browse if you want, read it all in detail, it’s up to you. The first picture is of a tired me with race t-shirt and the ugliest, but sweetest, medal ever!

FRIDAY: Our flight left at an early 7 am so I got up at 5 so Steve could drive me and Kristina to the airport. That crazy gal, she got up early to RUN! We hit the Starbucks in the airport, made it through security with thoughts of relaxing on the flight. Of course, I ended up meeting an interesting consultant on the way, spent the flight talking (a little of dad in me?), and got off the plane realizing that, as a social worker, I’m really at the bottom of the pay scale.

The AIDS Marathon reps met us at baggage and transported us to our hotel – I swear in the hood of Miami Beach. I’m not sure what happened here. Hurricane destruction, maybe? Our room was mint green, the bed looked like it had collapsed in the middle, and the hotel itself was a long way from anything of importance, such as restaurants, shopping, the race expo, etc. We ended up paying a whole lot of money to eat brunch in the hotel where I almost ate moldy grapes. We were on the beach, however, so took a walk along the boardwalk and enjoyed the scenery.

Heads up, Jill! Red and purple flags on the beach. Know what they mean? Riptides and DANGEROUS MARINE LIFE!!!! You thought you were kidding about the sharks. At some point, Kristina did brave the water. Luckily, no run-ins with things with fins or tentacles.

We also ventured out to the race expo using the AIDS Marathon shuttle which did not run all that often. We got free stuff, checked out the merchandise, watched a video of the race course, and then missed the bus back to the hotel. We had to take a cab, got back to the hotel where various discussions concerning dinner took place. Try figuring out where a large group of anxious runners are going to eat. We finally split up, found a table in South Beach, ordered the most expensive lasagna I’ve ever eaten, and ate on East Coast time (meaning several hours after 5 for you Midwesterners.)

SATURDAY: Dannie, Sam, Amy, Kristina and I decided to jog a little in the morning to loosen up. We started out at 9am on the boardwalk, heading in the direction of South Beach and Starbucks, quickly realizing that it was a little warmer than we were used to in good ol’ DC. I also had a major freak out moment when I realized that it was humid, I couldn’t breathe, and that it could be a very long 26.2 miles. I was also kicking myself for choosing yet again to run near a beach! You’d think I would have learned the first time that me and tropical life don’t mix. Now, for those with asthma, you can relate to the feelings of pure panic which accompany an asthma attack. This was the moment when I completely missed Steve, and felt totally alone. I definitely didn’t mean to be negative, but I think that’s how I came across to other people. I made it back to the hotel, got some great support by phone from Steve, and moved on.

Saturday evening, the AIDS Marathon staff put on a pasta party with some kooky, fun entertainment.


These are pictures of me with various members of my running group.

Afterwards, we all figured out how to secure the timing chips to our shoes, race number to our singlets, and gecko/AIDS Marathon tattoos to our arms and legs. We also wrote our names and those we were running for on the singlets. Then came supportive phone calls from family and friends and finally an early sleep.


SUNDAY: The alarm went off at 3:15 am so we could catch the shuttle to the start. We checked the Weather Channel before leaving and saw (to our dismay) that it was already 70 degrees.

We made it to the start area, took a last trip to the port-o-potties, and got in our corral. The first miles were in the dark, and it was really warm. I shed the extra t-shirt quickly, and focused on the view of cruise ships, water and palm trees. The first miles felt good and we picked up the pace. At mile 5.5, the AIDS Marathon family/friends crew was waiting along with Frank, Melissa and her parents. I was so happy to see them, and so grateful that they had gone to all the effort to be there. We slowed long enough to take pictures and were off again. By mile 10, I realized that I was not going to be able to keep up with the girls and finish OK. I was doing fine, but had some tightness in my chest. We saw the cheering group again at mile 11, and then I told the girls to go on ahead. There was no way I was going to end up in a medic tent!

Miles 11 – 21 were probably the best miles of the marathon for many reasons. First, I really liked running alone with my own thoughts. Second, I met some great people from New York, Florida, England. I liked hearing their stories, and the way complete strangers can motivate each other, even if only to the next aid or medic stop. Our coach and program rep made appearances during this time too, just to check on us. Third, it was during this time that I ran through some quiet residential streets where I could just enjoy the surroundings. The residents there brought out oranges, ice, water, and positive energy. Fourth, I finally remembered the reason I run. It seems that I lost some motivation to run during the last weeks of the training program. It could be due to the fundraising stressors, the irritating nuisance injuries, the constant “group mentality,” the training schedule or a combination of all. I just remember during these miles enjoying the simplicity of running, knowing it was just one foot in front of the other to the finish. It could also be the phone call I made to Steve at mile 19, knowing that he could offer support, encouragement and absolute, unconditional love regardless of what happened that day.

At mile 21, Melissa and Frank reappeared to run with me for awhile. I felt like I had my own crew. Frank filling my water bottle, Melissa offered sunglasses, both telling me stories, taking pictures and just motivating me onward. By this time, I was starting to hurt – everywhere. The nuisance foot injury was now screaming, my shins were starting to cramp, my stomach was not handling the Gatorade or GU anymore, and all I wanted was to be done.

Miles 22-24 were the worst. I walked a lot. I thought a lot about my sister, her battle with RSD and chronic pain, and I started to cry. I knew I could get through a few more miles when other people live with so much worse every day. Somewhere during this time, the San Francisco coach appeared with words of motivation. At mile 24, Coach Fred showed up again telling me I could run the last two miles. I decided he was right. It hurt just as much to walk, so why not run it? At mile 25, the two blisters that had developed on my big toes must have popped because I felt a searing pain. There was a hill at the end, and somehow I made it over the top, then I was at the finish. I saw Amy (another runner in my group) cheering me on like crazy, and then Frank and Melissa. Someone took the timing chip off my shoe, put a medal around my neck and told me to get some food. My thoughts? “I’m done; I’m ready to go home; don’t puke in front of all these people.” My final time was much slower than I had hoped – 5:21, but I learned so much during those 26.2 miles. The best part? There was never a moment where I thought I was going to quit. I’m really proud of that.

Lessons learned:
1. Run your own race.
2. For me, it’s all about the experience along the way.
3. If you can’t have your own family, definitely bring a surrogate (thanks Melissa and family)!
4. No more fuel belt at races. The events have what you need and it left a huge bruise on my hip.
5. DO NOT REGISTER FOR ONE MORE EVENT NEAR A BEACH!!!!! Been there, done that; I’m ready for cold, northern temperatures and very few people.

After the race, Melissa’s parents took me to lunch. They all walked with me on the beach and kept me company for the afternoon. That evening, there was a brief get together/sign off from the AIDS marathon staff. Some of us ate really good pizza, napped, and packed. Some went out for a drink and dancing on South Beach, but I stayed at the hotel, took cold medicine and called Steve, happy that I would be going home the next morning.

These are flowers from my amazing co-workers the day I got back.


A FEW DAYS LATER: I've run a couple of times this week, thinking about the past 6 months. I’m so glad I had the experience of running for Whitman Walker Clinic. We raised a lot of money, met interesting people, and finished a marathon. Again, thank you for the donations, emails and phone calls. I could have run this without you, but it was far more fun and meaningful with you. I am, however, glad to be moving on to new adventures. I loved getting to know my fellow pace group members, but continue to think of myself as a solitary runner. Today was my first trip back to quiet, soft trails, where I got to run with my thoughts and a group of white tailed deer. You can't beat that!

I’ll probably enter a few smaller races and am registered for the Cherry Blossom 10 miler in April. Yes, I’ll run another marathon (I’ve set my sights on the 2007 Fargo Marathon – my home state, family close by, cheap hotels, and cooler weather), but I think I need a break from a specific training schedule for awhile. I haven’t decided about the blog yet. Maybe I’ll continue it, maybe not…check back in a few weeks, and we’ll both know! Until then...