I rode the metro with a group of other NMA runners. It was packed...I mean, like farm factory, animal kind of packed. After a trip to the bag drop and the restroom we set off for our corrals. Funny enough I was in corral 17, the same one I was placed in for my half marathon. This one was a little lonelier though since my sister wasn't able to make it and since I didn't have a friend with me like I did for my half. It was a cool morning but considering I was in shorts and a short sleeve shirt, it was a lot warmer than I would have liked it. I eventually worked my way up to the start line and was off.
I remember thinking that I was starting pretty slow, most people were passing me. This was completely ok. I remember being very aware of my body, focusing on any small pain or breathing inconsistencies. After all, this was the first time I'd run in over 2 weeks after I'd messed up my calf back on some trail in San Antonio. My calf hurt, it twinged every time I stepped on it. I sincerely hoped that pain would eventually stop and I wouldn't make it worse. Still I'd traveled all this way... I had to at least try. Even though I felt like I was hobbling along every time I looked at my Garmin I was going too fast, and I had trouble getting myself to slow down. I knew this was going to screw me over. No way in hell I should be running a 10:30 after not running for 2 weeks and missing my last long run.
Realizing that I had such a long way to go I just paid attention to things we passed. Within the first 5k we were running straight up a road with the Capitol building at the end. We curved off at some point and ran past Union Station and then along side the washington monument a little further on. There were so many buildings that I can't remember them all...Department of Labor, Department of the Interior, and my personal favorite, the Environmental Protection Agency. I know we passed the national mall at one point but I never recognized which building it was.
Further in, around miles 7-11 we went through mostly residential areas. One street, Harvard Street, was really pretty in the beginning but tended to get a little shady later on. As we neared a turn further down there was this bright purple and gray building which would have been kind of cool had it not had a huge "Funeral Home" sign on the side. I mean, really? Thats not encouraging!
Right about mile 12 was the split. Full marathoners on the right, half on the left. Thoughts of having a beer and running on into the finish lingered in my mind for only a second or two before I curved sharply right and let out a string of verbal curses as I glanced at the remarkably thinner crowd. I could only see about 10 people in my vicinity. Jeez, not many people doing the full...hope thats not a bad sign. I thought of Kelly and how cool it would have been to run most of the race with her...I could have paced her up until mile 12...she would have loved it...everyone dressed up in St. Pattys day costumes. Made me a little sad to think about how I could have cheered her to the finish as I drifted off to the right.
Still the miles passed smoothly. After the 25k marker the course ran down to a pathway along the river that was lined with cherry blossom trees. Quite beautiful. Though the course was marked, the people were so spread out that for a split second I didn't think I was on the right path. One of the best things though was a young interracial couple standing at a turn when we began traveling away from the river and they were peeling little tangerines and handing out slices to runners! I don't think a tangerine has ever tasted so freaking amazing in my life. I wanted to hug them and cry. Small things like that make a huge difference! To make it all better, the photographer was there to take my picture right as I shoved that tangerine slice into my mouth...oh yum...
This middle section, or third quarter of the race was really the most exciting point for me. I really felt like I was going to do this and that it was a really awesome thing to be running an actual full marathon. Its possible I felt more excited at this point than I did when I finished. I kept thinking about my family and how they were following me online. While I can't say I've ever experienced someone cheering for me during the race, this was definitely the closest feeling. I felt so happy and proud to know that people were cheering for me, thousands of miles away.
Next thing you know I was trotting up a hill when I came upon the 18 mile marker. Truth be told, I would have been ok not ever seeing this one. It was just a reminder about how that was the longest I'd run prior to showing up to this race and knowing that I still had a solid 8 miles left. I put every effort into not counting the miles after this point. I also realized that my leg stopped hurting...cool. But I'd also begun noticing that my abs were aching and my feet hurt, I mean, really hurt.
The scenery from this point forward was severely lacking and it was no longer shady. Can't believe I was stupid enough not to bring sunscreen. I could feel my skin burning and it was getting quite hot out. When I saw the mile 20 marker I made sure to jump on it with both feet on that timing pad just to make sure it got me. It all pretty much went downhill from there though.
I'd been told by multiple people on multiple occasions that the last 6.2 miles are the worst. I expected this so I did my best to not look at my watch at all and just focus on anything else I could think of. With nothing to look at and the temperature rising I could feel things start to go wrong. I think I did a good job of not counting down the miles...I'd catch myself doing it and then tell myself to chill out. Problem was, I was feeling really awful. At about mile 22 I began having a really hard time breathing...and I was hardly moving at all (we're talking 12:30-13min miles). So, I began to take walking breaks and then when I could breather easier again, I'd jog.
It was awful. Not because I had to walk, trust me, I had no pride this time around, it was awful because every time I had to walk my feet hurt. They didn't hurt when I ran but when I walked...oh gosh. Its an awkward position to be in. Walk to breathe, but run so my feet don't hurt...hmmm.
I just kept feeling off though..like something wasn't right. I stopped and tried to take my heart rate (2nd stupid thing I did - I forgot to wear my hr monitor). It was hard with my Garmin screens changing but I was counting about 19 - 20 beats in 10/11 seconds. I remember thinking "holy shit...my hr is near 200, frick frick frick...I'm so screwed, I'm hardly moving! That can't be right!" So I walked most of the way to the next aid station and then stopped at the Medical tent. I asked them to take my heart rate and tell me if I was ok to continue. They approved me at a 140 hr after I'd been standing there for a few mins.
In retrospect, I think it was dehydration. Stupid, really. I didn't want to drink a lot of water so I wouldn't have to stop to use the port-a-potty. Yeah...that was smart. I was so thirsty by the time I got to the last water stop that I actually stopped and chugged 3 full cups of water before I began walking away with my fourth. I'm an idiot, never again...it took me an hour and a half to finish the last 6 miles...thats just humiliating. Ugh.
Cool...so off I went, going slow and walking on any hills. While it was challenging, I didn't doubt that I could finish...I knew I'd get there. Frankly, after mile 23, it was quite easy. Sooner than I thought I found mile 24, then 25. Then I saw the stadium and was in some disbelief; I just didn't think it could be that close so I kept plugging along until I saw the finish line.
Thats when it kind of hit me, like, wow, cool, I'm about to finish this thing. Erin, Matt's wife from NMA was still on the sidelines and cheered me on as I finished the last few feet.
Then I finished. Thats it. It was almost anti-climatic for me. I guess, I knew I could do it so when I did, just felt happy relief. Ok, a lot of relief. Don't get me wrong, I felt like a rockstar...I mean, I just ran 26 miles. I felt really accomplished and happy that I completed it. I accepted my finishers medal, took a few photos and went straight to the medical booth for some ice on my calf. I did what I had to do to finish and it felt great. But now that my first one is behind me and I've learned a few lessons, its time for me to focus on another race.
I kind of feel like that race was just to do it, just to get my first out of the way so I can go on to better things. My time didn't matter to me as much as it did for my first half. For my half I felt like I could have been faster or done better. This time I was ok with whatever I got. I mean, sure, of course I would like to have done better but I certainly don't care about the time I got.... for now ;) I was just happy to do it. And, you know, it wasn't as hard as I'd imagined it to be.
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