I’m a marathoner!

I ran my first race, a 10k, 6 years ago. At the time I told my friends and myself, “I never need to run a marathon. This is good enough.” Over time the overuse injuries added up, hard lessons were learned, and a year ago, I ran my first half-marathon. Again I said to myself, “I never need to run a marathon. This is good enough.” But all the while, deep down I always knew I would run a marathon. I think I was scared to say it aloud because then I would be accountable to run it. I knew the truth.

On 10/10/10 in the wonderful city of Chicago, I did it; I ran my first marathon! It wasn’t easy. I made mistakes – some rookie, some just plain dumb. But I now know what it feels like to be in that 1/10 of 1% of the population. And it’s amazing.

GOALS:

They say that for your first marathon you shouldn’t focus on time, just finishing. And that was my first goal. Of course, my competitive nature wouldn’t allow me to do completely do that. Based on the flat course, the stories I’d heard, my training pace, half-marathon times and a great weather report of a high of 65, I calculated that I could run a 3:45–3:50. No pressure, but it would be nice.

FRIDAY:

I woke up early and dragged my father to the expo. Previously I’d only been to small expos so this blew my mind. I picked up my bib and stepped into runner’s heaven - lots of free swag and samples. I ate my fill of Clif products and cherry juice. I got my father to buy me a foam roller from the Trigger Point booth. I bought myself some Superfeet insoles and an awesome race t-shirt from Nike. I chatted up a rep at the EFX booth (I chatted, my father formed a crush), AND I discovered that new balance used the work I developed as the backdrop for their entire expo display! Very cool.

My father, sister and I wandered Chicago for the rest of the day, picking up little things I needed for the race: Gatorade and Smartwater, Clif bars, bananas, and some bread and peanut butter for race day morning. We headed to Francesca’s on Chestnut for night one of carb-loading with my amazing photographer friend Paul Elledge and his lovely wife Leasha. (Paul’s work adorns the walls of ALL Francesca restaurants!) Made it to bed nice and early.

SATURDAY:

Mom arrived on a flight late Friday, so Saturday morning I introduced her to Chicago. We wandered along Lake Michigan, Navy Pier, and Millenium Park. I dragged everyone to the Art Institute where we relived a few Ferris Beuller moments, then went back out to the park to check out The Bean. My legs were starting to get tired from walking around and we headed back to the hotel for some rest.

My best friend Elyse met us at the hotel after arriving in Chicago a few hours earlier from a business trip in Rome. (She flew in just for me – now that is a GREAT friend!) She has marathon experience so she gave me a few tips and went over my gear with me. We then headed to dinner at Rosebud Trattoria for carb-loading night two.

MISTAKE ONE – I left my blackberry in a cab on the way to dinner. I chased after the cab for a block but realized I needed to save my legs. I eventually got it back (thank you random guy), but not before dealing with a ton of anxiety and a couple of embarrassing conversations about my horrible pink phone cover (don’t ask). This might not have really affected my race, but ideally, I would have liked marathon eve to be drama free.

At dinner I made what I believe was MISTAKE TWO – I drank lots of Gatorade. I have never drunk Gatorade the night before a run, yet I decided to change my routine after reading it as a tip online earlier during the day. Turns out not everything on the internet is true. I woke up the following morning feeling dehydrated and I believe it was due to the high sugar and sodium content of the drink. I’ll never know, but I’ll never risk it again.

I chased down my pink phone after dinner and then sat with Elyse and my family to plot where they’d cheer me on throughout the course. I felt myself getting nervous, but wouldn’t let it detract from my excitement. I triple checked my gear, prepped my hydration belt, painted my name on my shirt with a Sharpie and was ready for bed. I fell asleep rather quickly, despite a mini panic attack, after reminding myself that after all the hard work and training, I was more than prepared.

RACE DAY MORNING:

My alarm went off at 5:03. I always wake up at 3s or 7s. I made some coffee, ate a peanut butter sandwich and chugged some diluted Gatorade. I got myself prepped and headed out to catch the train to the starting line. I arrived downstairs to find a slew of other runners. Everyone decided to share cabs and save time - definitely NOT a mistake. We got to the park quickly where I checked my bag, ate a banana and continued to hydrate. MISTAKE THREE – I definitely overdid the hydration. I peed for what felt like ten minutes about 20 minutes before the start. As I walked to the starting corral, I peed again with about five minutes till gun time.

THE RACE:

I started in a seeded corral and immediately spotted the 3:45 pace group – with whom I intended to run. The temperature was around 60 degrees – perfect for noon, horrible for 7 a.m. race day morning. The weather report had risen all week and the high temperature for the race was expected to be in the mid-80s! I chatted nervously with those around me and before I knew it, we were moving!

Shortly after the starting line, we passed through a tunnel. My Garmin’s accuracy was shot, but I knew from experience it would fix itself. For the first mile, I’d just have to gauge myself by the pacers which leads me to MISTAKE FOUR – I should not have started with a pace group. I like to ease into my runs on that first mile, but the pace group caused me to shoot out of the gate at full speed. And I like to pace myself by feel. I know what’s comfortable to me, when I like to push, and when I like to hold back. Running with a pace group caused me to focus more on the group than myself.

Back to the race – From the moment I crossed that starting line my adrenaline was through the roof. And if I wasn’t amped enough on my own, the crowds were out of control and REALLY got me excited. So excited, I made MISTAKE FIVE – rather than just letting the cheers motivate me, I cheered back. Maybe I did the best job of writing my name on my shirt because I swear, no one got cheered on as much as I did. And Chicago, I love you for it. Unfortunately, I got a little too caught up in the crowds. I was throwing my arms on the air and running while imitating Rocky and simulating sparring moves. As one woman yelled, “You’re looking good, Ben!” I yelled back, “No baby, you’re looking good!” Yeah, I was excited.

By mile three I gave up on the pace group. My Garmin was back on track and I’d fallen into my proper pace on my own. The temperature was still pretty good and I was running perfectly. I made a friend, Katie from Ohio, who asked if she could pace with me because her gps died. We chatted for a bit but mainly focused on running for our seven miles together.

My family was waiting at Mile 8 and I’m not sure who was more excited, me or them. They snapped a few photos shots but I had no time for pictures. I was racing! Unfortunately, I had a feeling I was going to have to make a stop soon anyway. I was feeling the effects of drinking all that water and Gatorade and knew a pit stop was in my near future. I just wanted to hold off as long as possible.

I finally caved to a bathroom break at mile 10. I’ve never stopped during a race before, but despite my two bathroom trips before the start, this was not optional. Oh well, I’d lose two minutes. What I really didn’t bank on was twisting my ankle stepping onto the sidewalk. Took an extra minute to stretch it out and fortunately, it didn’t feel too bad when I started running again.

At the13.1 mile marker, I knew I ran a solid first half. My pace was averaging in the 8:30–8:40 range (excluding bathroom / ankle twist) and typically I hold a steady pace throughout the entire distance of my long runs. The temperature was beginning to rise but figured I could combat it with a little extra water and Gatorade.

By mile 14, trouble began. My ankle started aching a bit and though it ultimately didn’t affect me physically, it definitely became part of the mental game. The heat became a serious issue at this point as well. The temperature was now in the 80s and I could feel my body beginning to break down. I upped my intake of Gatorade and water and poured water over my head (and squeezed sponges over my head and back – thank you volunteers!). Nothing could satisfy me. It was at this point that I first modified my expectations. Goodbye 3:45, hello sub-four! I figured I could compensate for the heat by slowing down my pace and walking the water stations – and still hit that goal no problem.

Somewhere between mile 18 and 19 I saw my family again and wow, did I need them. The temperature was now 85 and the conditions were changed to “dangerous.” The course suddenly felt less like a race and more like a battlefield of down-trodden, sickly soldiers. Everyone was slowing down and many were walking. As I reached my family, I stopped to chat. I needed the cool down! I had given them extra Gatorade / Smartwater mix and quickly refilled my fuel belt. I took a few bites of a banana. I looked at my family and Elyse for a moment and knew that despite the horrible conditions and the pains that were beginning to appear, I had no choice but to finish. I couldn’t let them down.

I continued on my way, knowing that hitting sub-four would be tight but I could do it. Unfortunately, the fates had other plans. The temperature remained high and the pains continued to grow. The heat was causing my muscle fatigue to accelerate and I could feel the muscles in my feet and thighs starting to go.

Mile 22 was a big deal. I’d run 21 miles before but 22 was a new record. And it felt like death. And had 4.2 more to go! I looked at my watch and realized that the only way to finish sub-four would be to continue on without any more walking breaks. I knew it wouldn’t happen. I now had toe pain, knee pain, and was starting to feel a little nauseous. I opted to switch to a deliberate run / walk system with the sole goal of finishing in as good a time as I could without actually dying along the way. I had seen a couple of people carted off to medical tents and a few others puking and had come to terms with the fact that these racing conditions were not normal.

Those last few miles were painful. And slow. The Chicago crowds continued to holler my name but now they were only reciprocated with a weak smile and half a head nod. I sucked down ice cubes and continued pouring water over my head, running when I could and walking when I felt like I needed to collapse. The 800 meters sign appeared before me. I never questioned that I would finish (even when I questioned my sanity) but now it was getting close to being real. I had to fight the urge to start sprinting. I knew that despite the end being so close, it was still really far. As I closed in on the finish line I felt my body reach the brink of collapse. I slowed down to a walk again with about 400 meters to go, knowing I wanted to reserve what little bit of energy I had left for the finish line. No matter what, I was running across that finish line.

And I did it! As the finish line approached, I picked up my weary legs and ran. Though I looked like I lacked the gusto of my typical race finishes, my mind was more intense than it’s ever been before. I’ve heard that nothing feels as amazing as crossing that finish line for the first time. Well, I crossed that line and to be honest, I don’t remember what I felt! I was completely, utterly drained!

POST RACE:

I meandered the finisher’s area and somehow found a girl who put a medal around my neck. I remember thinking to myself “I hope this fabric doesn’t rip” and then wandering around to find some sort of sustenance.

I made it back to bag check after finisher’s photos and attempted to stretch. No dice. Just straightening my legs cause my quads to cramp up into painful balls. I laid down for a few minutes, then called my family to meet up.

The rest of the day was filled with food, rest, an ice bath, and the awkwardness of having my father roll out my muscles. And sleep. Ahhh. Sleep.

MONDAY:

It hit me. I ran a marathon! While I couldn’t fully enjoy it on Sunday after the race, Monday was another story. I wandered Chicago, proudly displaying my medal and my marathon limp. Everywhere I went I was greeted with “Congratulations!” and “Great job!” and you know what? I earned it! Though I might not have reached my dream goal, I obtained the most important goal of all: finishing the marathon. I realized that I was part of an elite club and I was proud. And now I just need to figure out my next one. =)

OFFICIAL TIME: 4:16:48   ||   Official pace: 9:47

THANK YOU AGAIN everyone who helped get me to the finish. I could not have done it without you! You have kept my ass motivated, and you better believe that I will do my best to MOTIVATE YOUR ASS!

Motivating Track of the Week: “You’re the Best” by Joe Esposito (from the Karate Kid!)