This is the blog I meant to write last year post-race, but all that full-time work nonsense precluded such activity. But, heck - I took today off and I kept my notes from last year! Although I write this from the wisdom of 2 marathons under my belt (the conditions this year being far worse), these are the main thoughts I took away from my first marathon:
Respect the Distance: It's 26.2 miles on your feet. And you're supposed to finish by 3 or 4pm the afternoon of. So what if you can hike for 18 miles - this really was the logic that told me I was prepared for the marathon. You're not 20 any more. You're body will remind you of that from mile 8 on. Train like they tell you to - long runs and all. There's a reason those training plans work.
You're Tougher Than You Think: I feel I have the metal strength of Silly Putty. I'm told otherwise. I'm told I've proven otherwise. I just didn't buy it until I crossed the finish line. You will get haunted by every mental demon of yours from mile 16 on. You know the one that says you're too fat and unprepared to be out there; the one that says you have the mental strength of Silly Putty. Those demons will abuse you and make you want to stop that running nonsense. But something amazing happens as those demons ramp up their attacks. You just put one swollen, blistered, toenail-challenged foot in front of the other and repeat. For another 2 hours or more. And when those blistered feet hit the finishing timing mat, you realize that the Silly Putty was really steel all this time.
"Today You Are My Hero": A lady was holding up this poster for her Team in Training running buddies (not for me) at mile 17 when I was fighting, fading and failing. I don't know if it was sheer arrogance, the hand of God or what, but I saw that sign and read it as if she had written that for ME. That lady, whoever she was, saved my ass out there! Everything was hurting so bad; I ran out of water; I wanted to cry. But I saw her sign, gave her the thumbs up and ran strong until I ran to the dark side (mile 20) at the VA Center.
The Race Really Does Start at Mile 20: All this time, I thought a bunch of elite, runner douchebags spouted off this expression just to show off and make us mere mortals feel inferior. Turns out that they are right. But for different reasons. Bad, uncool things start happening around mile 16 and get worse through mile 20. Bonking, mental demons, aches, pains, other gastro-intestinal indignities...You become this close to quitting and wanting to die when you see that Mile 21 marker at the end of the VA Center and you experience a literal 2nd wind that moves your exhausted, depleted body to speeds you thought your body had long since abandoned. You actually become giddy when you realize that you have 5 more miles (3 of which is downhill) and the 5 miles are a cakewalk. It's almost a miraculous experience when you come from the brink of all things dark and nasty and come out the other side energized and happy!
You Need A Good Pit Crew: I don't know how I could have finished this race without Gary and Susan. My non-runner hubby has patiently tolerated the horrifically early race morning wake up times; stood at countless finish lines weighted down by all my pre and post race gear while trying to get a shot of my crossing the finish; negotiated street closures and resolve-testing traffic just to humor me and my athletic whims. And Susan, with the cute See You at the Finish Line sign that greeted me at 4am race morning, helped saved me during my dark mile 20 with her texts of encouragement that continued at each mile marker from there. She also saved the day with the humor of Susan just being Susan - near the finish line, I spotted her chatting away with some really cute guy. When I asked her who he was, she said that she didn't even know his name, that they just started talking. You go, girl!
Other quick observations:
LA is a really cool course: Olvera Street, Silverlake, Sunset Blvd., The Museum of Death, all those cool bars, Brentwood, Santa Monica - I gotta get outta OC more often!
Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies" makes you run faster: That song and her reedy voice are so annoying you will run faster just to get away from it quickly. No matter how many toe nails have popped off!
People are awesome: You really do experience the kindness of the human spirit out there. A smile, a fist bump, a high five from a stranger...it's truly heartwarming to experience to see total strangers just being out there for other total strangers. Maybe we're not so bad after all.
I have no idea what "the miracle of childbirth" feels like. And never will I am happy to say. But crossing the marathon finish line struck me as something pretty damn close to what women say they feel when they give birth. I felt amazing; strong and powerful. I felt invincible for days. I can respect that marathoning is not for everyone. But if you even have a tiny inkling that you may want to try it, then do it. You won't regret it (after everything stops hurting and your toenails grow back!).
Respect the Distance: It's 26.2 miles on your feet. And you're supposed to finish by 3 or 4pm the afternoon of. So what if you can hike for 18 miles - this really was the logic that told me I was prepared for the marathon. You're not 20 any more. You're body will remind you of that from mile 8 on. Train like they tell you to - long runs and all. There's a reason those training plans work.
You're Tougher Than You Think: I feel I have the metal strength of Silly Putty. I'm told otherwise. I'm told I've proven otherwise. I just didn't buy it until I crossed the finish line. You will get haunted by every mental demon of yours from mile 16 on. You know the one that says you're too fat and unprepared to be out there; the one that says you have the mental strength of Silly Putty. Those demons will abuse you and make you want to stop that running nonsense. But something amazing happens as those demons ramp up their attacks. You just put one swollen, blistered, toenail-challenged foot in front of the other and repeat. For another 2 hours or more. And when those blistered feet hit the finishing timing mat, you realize that the Silly Putty was really steel all this time.
"Today You Are My Hero": A lady was holding up this poster for her Team in Training running buddies (not for me) at mile 17 when I was fighting, fading and failing. I don't know if it was sheer arrogance, the hand of God or what, but I saw that sign and read it as if she had written that for ME. That lady, whoever she was, saved my ass out there! Everything was hurting so bad; I ran out of water; I wanted to cry. But I saw her sign, gave her the thumbs up and ran strong until I ran to the dark side (mile 20) at the VA Center.
The Race Really Does Start at Mile 20: All this time, I thought a bunch of elite, runner douchebags spouted off this expression just to show off and make us mere mortals feel inferior. Turns out that they are right. But for different reasons. Bad, uncool things start happening around mile 16 and get worse through mile 20. Bonking, mental demons, aches, pains, other gastro-intestinal indignities...You become this close to quitting and wanting to die when you see that Mile 21 marker at the end of the VA Center and you experience a literal 2nd wind that moves your exhausted, depleted body to speeds you thought your body had long since abandoned. You actually become giddy when you realize that you have 5 more miles (3 of which is downhill) and the 5 miles are a cakewalk. It's almost a miraculous experience when you come from the brink of all things dark and nasty and come out the other side energized and happy!
You Need A Good Pit Crew: I don't know how I could have finished this race without Gary and Susan. My non-runner hubby has patiently tolerated the horrifically early race morning wake up times; stood at countless finish lines weighted down by all my pre and post race gear while trying to get a shot of my crossing the finish; negotiated street closures and resolve-testing traffic just to humor me and my athletic whims. And Susan, with the cute See You at the Finish Line sign that greeted me at 4am race morning, helped saved me during my dark mile 20 with her texts of encouragement that continued at each mile marker from there. She also saved the day with the humor of Susan just being Susan - near the finish line, I spotted her chatting away with some really cute guy. When I asked her who he was, she said that she didn't even know his name, that they just started talking. You go, girl!
Other quick observations:
LA is a really cool course: Olvera Street, Silverlake, Sunset Blvd., The Museum of Death, all those cool bars, Brentwood, Santa Monica - I gotta get outta OC more often!
Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies" makes you run faster: That song and her reedy voice are so annoying you will run faster just to get away from it quickly. No matter how many toe nails have popped off!
People are awesome: You really do experience the kindness of the human spirit out there. A smile, a fist bump, a high five from a stranger...it's truly heartwarming to experience to see total strangers just being out there for other total strangers. Maybe we're not so bad after all.
I have no idea what "the miracle of childbirth" feels like. And never will I am happy to say. But crossing the marathon finish line struck me as something pretty damn close to what women say they feel when they give birth. I felt amazing; strong and powerful. I felt invincible for days. I can respect that marathoning is not for everyone. But if you even have a tiny inkling that you may want to try it, then do it. You won't regret it (after everything stops hurting and your toenails grow back!).
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