Today I ran my ninth marathon, and thers's so much to process, as always, but I think the biggest part of it that I'm trying to wrap my head around is the fact that the next marathon that I do in just a few weeks will launch me into the double digits. I cannot believe how far I've come with this. I started marathoning in 2007 purely by dumb luck when I won the NYC Marathon lottery and haven't looked back since I finished my first one in 4:45.
The Providence Marathon was the marathon that almost didn't happen. I was supposed to run this beast a year ago, but due to purchasing my home and having gone through one of the darkest and roughest periods of mu life, I deferred. This year, it was my second marathon of 2011, and my training ended up being quite short also due to an emotional upheaval and work stress and other overlydramaticadultthingsthatadultsdo. As a result, I was almost forced to show up at this race and either treat it like a training run, or to not show up at all.
I arrived in Providence yesterday afternoon later than expected after missing my train. However, I made it to the Expo just as they were starting to break things down so thankfully I was able to get my number and tech shirt just in time (thanks Acela!). Then I checked into my fancy schmancy room at the host hotel, where my cheapskate vein was pulsing off my forehead. It was a very last minute decision to stay over and the only rooms left were far more than I wanted to pay, but I told myself to keep quiet, relax, and enjoy a weekend away. Once checked in and settled, I did my usual routine of running last minute errands and getting everything sorted for race day, then scouted out a local restaurant for dinner and the Bruins game. I was in bed by 9pm and then lights out at 10pm. I slept soundly, which has never happened before a marathon before.
This morning I woke up, got breakfast and coffee and cursed myself out for not packing a sweatshirt. It was 38 degrees at the start line and I stood shivering in shorts and a t-shirt, and my stomach decided to throw itself a nice little tantrum. I had been feeling better since this entire Paleo-diet business ended, but I'm not sure what happened this morning. Nerves perhaps?
CANNON BOOM.
The first two miles of this race were stressful and claustrophobic. The total field of marathoners and half marathoners was approximately 7,000 with only about 1,500 or so being the marathoners. There was a lot of weaving and I just gingerly took my time with the crowd down the narrow streets. Finally at mile two, the half marathon course split off and the full field of zoo animals went charging straight while the marathoners took a right turn. Finally, we could breathe and focus on not tripping into the potholes on Providence's finest pavement. And then my stomach staged a protest. I was forced to make a porta-potty stop and I was REALLY not happy about it. I haven't stopped on a course since my first marathon four years ago! Grr.
Once sorted and back in action, I could feel myself relaxing and falling into a comfortable rhythm. Around mile six or so, some short guy started chatting with me. One of the the things that I love most about marathoning is the chatty banter that some runners adopt, myself included. Sure, music is great and concentration is nice, but chatting and joking and talking with fellow marathoners during a race is so much fun. No topic is sacred! What is discussed on the course, stays on the course, but for the time spent on the course, we are all intimately related. I didn't even catch his name, but it was his third marathon and he's only lived in the States for the past two or so years having moved from India. We paced off each other and at times there were long stretches of silence, and then we snapped back awake and continued with our chatter. The miles flew by. In fact, if you were to tell me that miles 11 through 18 never happened, I'd probably believe you. They are blank to me. They never existed and cease to exist in my mind. And then we hit mile 20!
At this point, we were running on this very pleasant bike path which wasn't very scenic and in the direct sun, but it was quiet. I was mildly worried becuase I was gulping water whenever it was offered; it was so hot in the direct sunlight. I didn't want to subject my already cranky stomach to gatorade, and water was making me worried due to electrolyte dilution which I started experiencing, but I was so incredibly parched. Then we all learned a nasty little secret: they put this course on the bike path to cut corners by not closing it to bike traffic via hired police. There were suddenly dozens of cyclists headed down the bike path at high speeds in the opposite direction in which we were running, which to me, is the reason why I will never do this race again, even though I liked the course immensely. It was an extremely dangerous situation. At this point in the race, most runners were digging deep within their heads to keep moving, and having cyclists coming head on at us at high speeds could have resulted in some major injuries. Thankfully, this did not happen. Mile 23 was painted in multiple colors of profanity due to a very steep and long hill. Mile 24 was spent running in single file along a bridge tressle, which caused me to snap back into life and get angry. I hated feeling restricted to the pace of the person in front of me because it was so narrow that passing was impossible. Once we were off the bridge, I was fuming, dug deeply and charged the last 1.5 miles to the finish.
The finish line clock read 3:58:10 and my watch read 3:56:59. Not my best, not my worst, but happily, happily under 4 hours, and I'm feeling great! Number nine! Number nine came and went and it's only into the double digits from here on out! As usual, I'm filled with so many thoughts and emotions right now after this race. It was a beautiful day, a beautiful race, and my first marathon flying solo; just me and the open, endless, happy road.
No comments:
Post a Comment