By special request, here is my blog about my adventure in the inaugural Vancouver USA Marathon, June 19, 2011.
After completing the 2010 Helvetia Half-Marathon in June 2010, having a better time and a better timing than I expected, I began to see that a full marathon was within my potential. I spent most of last summer being overwhelmed by work, and got back to more serious physical training in the fall and winter. After a set-back with the flu and several weeks of mostly down time in January and February, I began to wonder if I had spent my registration money in vain - marathons are on the spendier end of the registration fee scale.
Through a lot of the winter and cool, rainy spring months, I struggled with what I thought were leg cramps or shin splints - turns out these were the common, garden variety IT band problems. In the last weeks leading up to June 19, I was seeing my massage therapist (Casey) for hour-long massages on just my legs, getting stretching exercises from both my trainer (Rey) and the internet, and using a foam roller to roll out my IT bands morning and night.
I prayed fervently regarding the weather for race day - I have never been a hot weather person. One of my fears was that after having trained through the cool, rainy spring, we would suddenly have a hot sunny, barbecue worthy Father's Day, and my running would be doomed! The Lord answered my prayers, and race day was cool, overcast, with just a slight mist or drizzle at the outset of the race. My kind of weather!
The race was very well organized and there were pace leaders - individuals carrying signs (I don't know how they do this, but they do it well!), and I got in with the 5:00 hour group. The race started and we were off (this is the photo on page 1 of The Columbian). Using the Jeff Galloway run-walk-run method, I stayed with the group until the half-marathon point. Whenever the sun broke through the clouds, I felt as if my energy was sapped. I fell behind the group, and for a while, coming back into town on west Mill Plain, I felt really alone - it was a bit disheartening.
Throughout the run, although there were plenty of familiar sights, I realized I had lived in this town for 25 years, and yet was seeing things and places I had never seen before. We had never been out to Frenchman's Bar park. There were volunteers in the park who said, "Water's just around the corner." There was a bend in the path in the park, and when we went around that bend, the Columbia River was right there! I thought, wow, she was right - water right around the corner! Actually, about another 100 yards ahead was a water station. The water stations were frequent enough even for me and there were many volunteers. In this race - maybe most marathons? - bib numbers come with your first name pre-printed. This made it easy for the volunteers at aid stations to call out and encourage you by name - I loved this!
Back into downtown Vancouver, the route was twisting and turny, and I began to wonder if I was still on course - I was running not quite alone by this time, but certainly not in a pack of people. On McLoughlin Boulevard, approaching mile 16, a familiar face and voice beckoned to me, and my good friend Maryann Velez, from work, jumped off the sideline with her bicycle and came to cheer me on. She had a couple of friends in the Half-Marathon and had been cheering them on as well. She rode with me down to Fort Vancouver, and then headed back to cheer her other friends at the finish line.
After the familiarity of Fort Vancouver, I once again was in unfamiliar territory, feeling fatigued, and wondering if I was still in the right race - maybe there was a run in Camas on the same day and I had accidentally run too far east and was now continuing in a different race?
Eventually I could see how we were going to get across Highway 14, down to the waterfront, so we could run back in along the Renaissance Trail and get to the land bridge. At the bottom of a hill, I thought I was going to get a rest - I could see a freight train blocking the crossing while a guy in a kilt played a bag pipe to entertain passing runners. But the train backed up, and we stragglers made it across.
At about mile 22, Maryann showed up again, and from there until the finish line, we continued together. To have a friendly face, an encouraging word, and even a bit of a distraction - I can't say enough what a difference she made when I was pretty fatigued. She was with me when at about mile 24, all of a sudden it felt like the end of my little toe had exploded off my foot. I stopped dead in my tracks.
As this happened, a young man, Scott Collier, from Mt. Hood Ski Patrol (volunteering on bikes), road by and asked if I needed help. Scott bandaged my toe and expressed his hope that I could hobble in to the finish line. He is a veteran of about 10 marathons, himself.
I did walk about a mile and a half or so - my foot really hurt and I didn't think I had the pain tolerance to run on it.
I was still walking when Maryann asked me, "Do you see that sign?" It was the 26 mile marker. "Yes, I see that beautiful sign!" "Do you see that number?" "Yes, I see that beautiful number!" At that point, I knew I had only 385 yards to go - if my foot hurt too bad, I would stop - and if not, I would be done! I kissed my hand and tapped the mile marker sign and said, "I'm going in." I took off running and hit it just a little harder when I saw I would be finishing in just under 5 and a half hours.
It took longer than I had hoped, but still a respectable finish for a 54-year-old gramma of 8, running her first marathon.
I cannot describe the feeling when I crossed the finish line - I just kept waving my finisher's medal in the air and saying, "I did it! I did it!" Part ridiculous smile, part brink of tears.
Next - part 2 - lessons learned.