I am two days removed from my third marathon and as I type, I am beginning to feel human once again. It took about 48 hours to be able to sufficiently disguise my limp as not to invoke pity or head shaking smirks that say, "You're an IDIOT for running when you don't have to. LOL
Of the three races in my life (Akron & Chicago are the other) this one is the sweetest of the three. The most obvious reason I place this at the top of my list is because I attain a personal best of 3:56.49 which surpassed my next best by more than a minute per mile pace. Only a few close friends and family knew that secretly I was hoping to break the 4 hour mark. It was private because I have not had the greatest confidence as a runner over the past few years. But this year, it all came together. Adding weight lifting, steadfastness to the training schedule and a more intentional diet all paid off this time around.
The bittersweet of the moment was the reality that Andy and I would be unable to enter together due to a significant leg injury. Still, I was inspired by the knowledge that he would be there at the finish to greet me instead of being thousands of miles away in a war zone in Afghanistan. I definitely ran as one whose inspiration cup runneth over.
I am not a good sleeper the night before a race and yet I've learned, that Adrenalin is the runners caffeine that overcomes such inconveniences. Wide awake, we were on the road by 5:45 am. to beat the traffic. About 20 runners were there at that point with about 18,000 more in route. I don't mind getting there before the crowd as it helps me drink deeper in the experience I paid good money for. The winds were light and the 50 degree temps were perfect to start out the big day ahead of us.
Sardiened in starting corral D, I waiting anxiously for the start of the race. Beside me were a lady who was running her first half marathon and a Marine who wore a "Marathon Maniacs" shirt which shouted hard core Marine corp! We talked of his 4 deployments and I talked proud of my two sons in service. I asked a guy who stood about 6'6" to help look around for a guy holding an Ascics Pace sign for those who wanted to break 4 hours. He spotted them and I drifted to the sign guy whose hopes I pinned on breaking 4 hours.
Finally the gun went off and we shuffled as cattle off to the slaughter house of sorts. It took 5 minutes from my point to cross the start line and soon we were off. I tucked in close to the pace guide like a shy kid tucked behind his momma. I knew that if I stayed close and felt good, I had an outside shot. I was checking my times as I followed mother goose. I know the benefit of a pace guy is not starting out too fast, caught in the excitement of the crowds and noise. For most of this early stage, I played smooth jazz on my I-pod. This is a good way to stay calm and cool when you need to stay settled.
At the first quarter of my marathon my time was 59:21. The highlight of the first 6.5 was getting scolded by some guy who came up beside me and told me to watch my forearm as I hit him pretty hard. I didn't realize that I did that and apologized. I thought to myself, man, this weight lifting must be making me one mean dude, you know? Well I was much more conscious of my arms from that point on, of course.
The second quarter was run at a 58:08 clip and was the most amazing stretch of the race. One minute I was running through residential streets and at the next moment, on our right stood the magnificent home of the Kentucky Derby. Churchill Downs infield was part of the plotted course for all runners and they way through was a tunnel that burrowed under the track. In moments thousands of runners emerged in awe of the splendor, knowing full well that throngs we tune into next week to watch the first of three crowns of the very best horses in the world. Many of us could not help but slow a bit in awe of the sight of swift thoroughbreds gliding at blazing speeds down the back stretch. The moment was both majestic and the stuff of dreams! For a moment, I felt a deep connection to my late grandfather "Abuelo," who had such fondness for the sport and art of horse racing. For a few minutes of this race, he was center stage in my heart.
Though inspired by the special mile on the marathon route, I must confess a bit of distraction. I had to find a portajohn so I could become more focused on this goal. When one became available I jumped in happy to know that I could be more laser like in my focus the rest of the way. I lost about 90 seconds but erased it quickly as I caught up with the pace guy once again. At about 10.5 miles the route takes runners through Iroquois Park, which would involve many climbs and descent over the next 3 miles. Feeling strong at this point, I opted to veer ahead of the pacer a little, feeling confident in my own pace and in what my body was saying. All the climbs and drops in the park were welcomed by my once apprehensive mind. The reason it did not make me feel timid was because of the significant hill training I did back home that adequately prepared me for the 3 mile run through this park. I have learned to love hills and not loathe them which provided a more positive mindset for this first set of hills on the course. As I approached the halfway point of my journey, everything was sound and I felt strong. I was starting to think that my goal was attainable barring unforeseen problems ahead.
The third quarter was the best of the four with a time of 57:53. By now I had started to get separation form the pace runner. When I reached mile 16 I was beginning to think of how the distance ahead was now measured by miles in the single digits. There are many ways runners think through the mental barriers ahead. For me it was "just 3 5ks left." The thing that surprised me about this race was the fact that at no time did my mind struggle to stay focused. Where doing mental math had been rough in the last two races, this one did not seem to drain my head of thinking faculties. In this part of the races, the mile signs seemed to pop up with good frequency and I found that I could do a few conservative surges at times on this flat part of the course. I was not really feeling the fatigue over miles 13-20. Now I was not just hoping to beat the goal but started believing it was about to happen.
When I got to the final quarter of the race which covered 1:00.02, I knew if there was any threat to the dream it would be found on this stretch. I had rounded mile 21 and spotted Kelly & Andy cheering and taking pictures. I told them, I was going to make it now, that I felt great and I threw out a thumbs up. AS I said that, a little fear kicked in but what if something happens now. Did I mess up declaring it openly? Sure enough as I turned the corner beyond them I was greeted by two miles of climb ahead. Though your mind and cardio may feel strong at this point there is a threat that lurks in legs that have been taxed for over 3 hours, the dreaded muscle cramps. I felt a familiar tinge hinting of trouble ahead, just as I started at the base of the elevation. I knew that I'd have to approach this climb with shortened stride and slow steady cadence. At mile 22 it flared for a moment but then eased off. I felt like a tight rope walker at this point. If I tipped too much my leg would convulse uncontrollably. I had reached the summit, or so I thought, when I took a sharp left to see one more hill just hoping to steal my dream. My tender climb had brought me this far and so I convinced myself that I had just one more climb over thin ice and I'd be home. And so it was on mile 23 that my leg rebelled against the rest of me, just as it did in Akron and in Chicago. There was a man standing there on the side of the road, as if sadistically positioned there to watch the suffering climbers who were trying to will their legs to do what they refused to do. I looked at him and shouted, "This happens every time at mile 23!" I hated losing control but I stopped a second to rub it down, beat on it and stomp it to do what it didn't want to do. The previous two races, it refused to go away until the finish but today, was different. By mile 24 I began my last descent into the city and the cramps subsided. I caught up with 2 other runners and we talked of the joy of soon reaching our goals. We were 3 euphoric kids who had come to believe the battle was behind us as we heard the cheering crowds down the streets accompanied by the sounds of a marching band. Those final two miles were both covered with sub nine minute mile pace and the end was in sight.
I have always tried to finish strong and today, I wanted to try to do this again. I was looking for motivation when I spotted a runner ahead playing it up to the crowd, while looking behind to see if anyone was coming. I knew right away if pressed, he was just as competitive as me for the finish. Though our placings in the race were not remarkable, spectators were still eager to see a race to the finish, so we joined in the theatrics of the last 0.2 miles of the race in an all out sprint to the finish. And yest with 100 yards left, I made my pass and shouted with joy of breaking 4 hours at the finish. When we crossed the line we shared a laugh and congratulated each other and shared in the greater victory of finishing another marathon. I cried at the last two marathons but this time I didn't, maybe because I started talking with this guy in the footrace. But as I staggered ahead to the finisher's medal, I felt contented that all the hard work paid off. I learned that even as I start this new decade of my life, the best is still to come!
