Although rehashing any running event is probably incredibly
boring to most, I’ve decided to jot down a few things about my most recent
adventure. It’s good to keep a little
bit of a record just in case I ever am crazy and/or stupid enough to ever sign
up for this type of self-torture ever again.
Why would anyone run a full marathon and then decide to do
it again a couple of years later? I honestly
have no idea. I registered for this bad
boy way back in December with just a little intention to actually go for the
full. My training seemed to go pretty
well with one exception. My last of
three 20-milers was an utter disaster thanks to an odd medication
reaction. Note to self: Never, I repeat NEVER, take Bactrim
again.
My confidence took quite a hit due to an extra long taper,
so I wasn’t sure what to do. “Half or
full?” was the question constantly running through my mind for weeks. I had already put a lot (A LOT) of time and
energy into my training (40 miles a week + a slow poke of a runner = A LOT of time),
and I didn’t want all of those preparatory miles to be done in vain. I decided about a week ahead of time that I
was going for it unless the weather was unfavorable. I knew I could do it and I’m no elite runner
aiming to break any records, so a slower race wasn’t that big of a deal for
me. However, an unreasonably hot race
was a big deal because there are only a few things more miserable to me than
running in the heat. I didn’t really define “unfavorable” or “too
hot” though, so I told my husband I’d just decide that morning once I started.
For the first time in my life, I was really interested in
the weather forecast. I checked the
extended forecast on many different sites several times daily. And I prayed and prayed and prayed. Finally, I stopped praying for favorable
weather and started praying that God would be with me every step of the way no
matter what route he lead me to. I do
believe that nothing is impossible with God, but that didn’t ease my
nerves. My two biggest concerns that
were making me incredibly anxious: not
knowing for sure what distance I was going for and the horrible aftermath that
goes along with running 26 miles. This
time around, it wasn’t fear of the unknown, but rather fear of the known.
An excerpt of an email exchange with one of my greatest and
loyal fans before the race:
can't
believe i'm going to attempt this again. the nervous anticipation is worse for
a 2nd marathon than a 2nd vaginal delivery. at least i got a baby and narcotics
out of that deal.
To make a 26.2 mile-long story a little shorter…
After a fine
start, I gave the thumbs up to my loyal followers. At mile 13, I met the winner of the full
heading in for the finish. At mile 14, I
was regretting my decision to attempt the full.
By mile 15, I wanted to step into oncoming traffic and end it all. That is seriously no joke. I was feeling that terrible. The sun came out full blast during the second
half, and with no shade in sight, it got hot and unbearably humid. ..pretty
much the worst running conditions for me and everyone else stupid enough to not
turn off and call it a day after 13.1 miles.
In fact, the winner (the really, really fast winner) was quoted in the
paper saying he lost six pounds during the race. Yikes!
Back to me…I hated myself and wanted to quit. It came down to either walking or dying, so I
started to walk and then run and then walk and then run for the next eleven or
twelve miles. I really perked up a lot
by the 16-17 mile mark and actually felt more like a human being after
that. Tough stuff, but only through
God’s strength, I finished in 4 hours, 17 minutes, and 50-something seconds…
only three minutes slower than my first marathon. That was a victory in itself considering all
of the walking and a bathroom break.
As expected, my feet took a beating and I was sore,
however, my recovery was a breeze compared to the first time. I went for a nice swim a few days after the
race. I allowed my torn up skin and bare
nail bed a nine day break before lacing up my shoes for a run. And except for a few sore spots on my feet and
the high outdoor temperature, it really did feel good to move again.
Pre-race
The finish
Post-race
I had the best and most loyal fans following me around and cheering me on. Thanks E, J, Steve, and J! I could not have done it without you and the extra water you provided. I love you all!
I have let my hair grow out, but it's not that long. E is standing behind me...
My Facebook post following the race...
Well, that was far and HOT! God, thank you for being undeniably present this morning. It was only by your strength that I overcame the powerful urge to step out into oncoming traffic. Thanks for blessing me with great supporters, especially Steve, J, E, and J. Although sore, I am blessed beyond measure. Through You I can do anything!
I was scared to even look at my feet because of this bloody sock.
The damage
Left foot,
left foot,
right foot,
right.
Please excuse my chipped up polish. I wasn't about to waist my time prettying up these beasts before the big race.
The only thing holding the nail on at the base was the blister at the nailbed.
A few days after the race, this guy said (a freaking painful) goodbye.
Like a badge of honor, the departed nail (it's actually two nails on top of each other...bizarre!) is still in our house. However, after a week of sitting on our coffee table, it did find another more appropriate place to stay (as if there's any appropriate place for a toenail keepsake).
Notes to self:
a deep tissue massage 1.5-2 weeks before the race is a really good idea;
occasional visits to the sports chiropractor during training is also a really good
idea; Compeed blister patches didn’t do much for that long of a race…likely
added additional irritation to big toe blisters; use Glide or Vaseline under
bra straps more than once; Bactrim is not for me; music helped me a little during the dark, dark miles; never attempt a full marathon again if it is
even questionably warm; 26.2 miles is really far; training for this takes a
whole lot of time; God is good...really, really good.
