There is an old saying says something about the hardest fought victories being the sweetest. Well yes and no.
This picture is of me doing the death march through EPCOT. What went wrong? Well many things, but mostly my pride. You see I trained for this marathon for about 6 months. In my first marathon I had to walk the last 2 miles turning probably a 3:45 finish into a 4:02. It was a bitter end to a great start in my mind. Although it was not bad for my first time, I was unhappy about having to walk the finish. So I vowed that I would finish the next one strong. I started a Pfitzinger marathon training program that upped my mileage and build up my speed. It built my speed up so much that I turned in a 1:44 half marathon and felt so strong at the finish that I knew I could have turned in a much better time. So I started dreaming of a 3:36 and trained for an 8:15 per min. pace. Everything was going well, all my training runs went great and were on pace...then came race day.
On Race Day it was HOT. 85 F with 98% humidity. I knew it was going to be hot the day before and I even played lip service to adjusting my pace accordingly. But it was just that, lip service. When the start sounded I felt great, the first mile was a little slow due to the crowd but I quickly got on my 8:15 pace and felt great. I was cruising, but somewhere around mile 14 I began to feel weaker. My legs were getting tired, something that had never happened to me before. At this point I made the decision to reduce my speed to an 8:30, but it was too little too late. By mile 18 I knew I wasn't going to make it but I continued to delay the inevitable. I knew I was going to have to walk, but I didn't want to walk 7 miles. I made deals with myself to try to make it to 22 then to 20, but finally my body made the decision for me. My legs cramped up beyond hope and just short of mile 20, I hobbled to the med tent and crumpled to the grass. I was so cramped up even my tongue hurt. I sat there on the ground convincing the medical people that I was fine. I was not. I made the decision to wait for the bus because I knew I couldn't walk 6 miles.
But a funny thing happened while trying to stop my legs from cramping, I got pissed. Pissed that all my training ended up this way. Pissed that I didn't start out slower. Pissed that after all my talk about a sub 3:40 I was going to DNF. So I grabbed a Poweraid and a banana from the med tent and walked away. It was more like a hobble. That first mile was really painfully and I felt like it took me an hour and I stopped at one point to stretch and again crumpled to the ground. It was at this point I met the nicest medical worker. He sprinted over to me to make sure I was alright and I assured him it was just cramps. He brought me to the med tent (my second stop) and said, "I'll have a cute girl rub some bio freeze on you and you'll be as good as new." Well the girl was cute and the bio freeze worked for about 10 min., but I did learn one lesson, stopping was BAD. So I kept going. It was slow and painful and I talked to a few people in a similar state as me which helped pass the time. Every now and then I would cramp up bad, but I just kept walking. I tried to drink constantly, but I was full. I had asked at both med tents for salt (that worked for me last time) but they didn't have any and I didn't think to bring my salt tablets from home.
Eventually I was closer to the finish and I could feel it's gravity pulling me. I wanted to finish, I wanted to be able to wear the shirt with pride, because even though this was not going to be a great finish by any means at least I didn't quit. I saw Sheryl and the Barbee's at EPCOT and I felt bad that they had waited for 2 hours past when they expected to see me. Then it was just a blur to the finish where I saw my parents and sister and I told them, "I can't stop." I got my medal and stopped again at the med tent on my quest for salt...again no luck.
Things after that were just a mess, when I finally sat down in the car I cramped up beyond belief, then we took a wrong turn, then the car broke down, then I was throwing up from dehydration. That story in itself makes for a bad day. But at least I finished. I. Finished.
Am I capable of running a 3:36, I think so, but I need ideal conditions. Right now I want to finish one marathon running strong. I still don't know what time I am going to try to run ING Georgia in, but I do know it will be slow with lots of hills and I am going to finish.
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