Let me start by saying, this marathon has been in the works for a long time. I officially started training for it way back in July when the temperatures were in the 90's and 100's and the humidity was right up there with it. Even before that I was running about 20 miles a week, mostly to keep my weight down without starving myself. Marathon training consisted of running three or four short runs during the week (up early around 5 AM when the temperatures hadn't reached sweltering heights yet) and a long run each Saturday. My goal was a total of 30-40 miles a week. I needed that time on my feet to get my legs, my joints and tendons used to that kind of abuse over and over again. I was toughening them up. I definitely had plenty of "bad runs" but the more I trained the more "good runs" I had. My final long run was a 21-miler and it went really well. I remember thinking around mile 20.5, "I could do another couple miles if I needed to". So looking ahead to the Houston Marathon, I thought it would be tough, but doable.
In preparation for the marathon, my running group and I had cute matching shirts made and planned out all the fun we were going to have. We all drove up together to the George R. Brown Convention Center to pick up our bibs. We strolled around the expo checking out all the fun running gear. We had fun photobooth pictures taken. We bought each other marathon charms. We even had a tasty carb-up lunch at Chipotle. If there is one thing we know how to do, it is make the running thing fun!
The night before my race I set out all my clothes like it was my first day of school. I pinned my bib to my shiny new shirt. I checked the weather 642 times trying to decide what to wear. Do I wear a throw-away sweatshirt? Do I wear a long-sleeved shirt underneath my shiny new running shirt? Do I suffer the cold temperatures at the start so I am not hot later on? Do I wear shorts? Do I wear long tights? Like I said, 642 times. I was definitely starting to obsess. So I tucked myself into bed at a very early hour and tried my very best to go to sleep. Sleep did not come easy. I tossed and turned much of the night worrying about the race.
Despite my lack of peaceful sleep, 4:20 AM came quickly. We left early to make sure we got there before the race road closures began (and because I am a bit OCD about getting everywhere early). We made it there on time after getting a bit lost and circling around the freeway twice (despite the fact we had driven there twice before in the two days previous). We dropped off our bags, but I couldn't find my running partner, Carrie. I tried calling her at least 15 times and texted her many times, but still I could not get a hold of her. I finally walked to the start line with Jenny and Lyn hoping she would meet us there. Then I waited, and waited and waited. And I panicked and panicked and panicked! What if I didn't find her? Could I make it without her? How mad at me would she be? Finally, at 6:55 (just five mintues before the start time) I found her in the crowd of thousands. Phew.
As we made our way to the start line (we started around 7:15 after all the fast runners cleared out of the start area), the excitement of it all started to take over. The sheer number of runners was overwhelming. Over 11000 people were running the marathon, not to mention the 9000 who were running the half marathon. It was a sea of people, all ages, all shapes, tons of people.
The first eleven miles were awesome. We were high-fiving spectators, heeing and hawing about jokes, reading all the signs along the way (my favorite was "Hope you run a better race than Rick Perry",) and enjoying the scenery along the way. In fact, around mile seven I made the comment, "We are doing great! I don't see any reason we won't be able to finish this." Jennifer Brenner just looked at me with an all knowing grin and warned me not to get ahead of myself.
Around mile eleven as we entered the West University area, my knees started nagging me, my IT band was getting tight. This wasn't supposed to happen so early, remember all that time on my feet...toughening them up. I hadn't even run a half marathon distance yet. This couldn't be happening. I tried to put it out of my mind and focus on the short stretch of road just in front of me.
By mile 15 the sun was high in the sky and the temperatures were heating up. I had shed my sweatshirt and gloves long ago but I was still sweltering. I fought with myself about whether or not I had the self esteem to strip down to my sports bra in order to take my long-sleeved undershirt off and then put my shiny new running shirt (which was gratefully short-sleeved) back on. It soon became clear that I had to shed a layer, so I showed my three-child-bearing, stretch mark and flab encrusted belly to all those in eye sight. Hopefully they could see the apology in my eyes. Within minutes, Carrie did the same thing. She threw her sweaty Nike shirt (the one she had just bought the day before) somewhere near the underpass of the 610 loop and Post Oak.
By miles 17 and 18, delerium and exhaustion were starting to settle in. The amazing homes of Tanglewood couldn't even keep my mind off my dire state. Carrie and I then entered the "bargaining phase". It went something like this..."let's try running 5 minutes and then walking a minute...let's try running half a mile and then running half a mile...let's try walking a quarter mile and then hobble-jogging a quarter mile. Everyone around us was bargaining as well. Trying to mentally figure out how they were going to make it another 8.2 miles.
The quarter/quarter method got us all the way to mile 19.25. As we rounded the corner Carrie yelled out, "President Bush, it's President Bush!" Sure enough, there sat President George H. W. Bush Sr. in a wheelchair surrounded by a slew of secret servicemen (clearly Carrie was in a clearer mental state than I was at this point). Poor President Bush looked a lot like I felt at that point, tired and frazzled. The pink socks he had on didn't do anything to help his case. But it sure was sweet of him to sit outside to cheer on the runners. It sure picked up my spirits. It got me to at least mile 22.
Around mile 22.5, Carrie's thigh was cramping more and more often and I had to leave her behind if I was going to be able to finish. I ran for a bit, but quickly realized I was only running a tiny bit faster than I was walking. So I decided to walk it in. I tried to do the math in my head over and over to figure out if I would make it under the six hour cut off, but I couldn't make sense of it. At that point, it was what it was.
At mile 25, I saw Eric (Carrie's husband who had finished the race ages ago at a time of 3:18) waiting under the overpass. He had walked out to check on us. I almost burst into tears when I saw him, but I knew I had to keep my emotions in check if I wanted to make it another 1.2 miles (which felt like another 500 miles at the time).
At mile 25.5 I came upon a woman laying on the feet of a medic. She had thrown up all over herself and was wailing and screaming the likes of which I have only heard on the delivery floor of a hospital. It was a bit traumatizing and did not help my altered mental state.
I fast-walked it all the way to mile 26, checking my watch every 10 seconds hoping it didn't say 6:00:00. At the 1/4 mile marker, I mustered all my remaining energy and jogged it in. As the finish line came into sight, I saw Helmut screaming and cheering for me on the side. I really had to work hard to fight back the tears at that point (He had made a comment about how silly it was to cry when you finish just days before, so I was trying not to appear weak as I passed him). Luckily, he shouted out a comment that took my mind off my tears, "You can make it, you are almost there." All I could think was, "Of course I am going to make it. The finish line is only 200 feet away, duh." He was just trying to be supportive, but I was sort of in a mood.
At that point, I looked forward and did my best to sprint across that finish line (although to those watching I may have looked like I was running in slow motion). Once I crossed the line, despite all my efforts to the contrary, I burst into tears. I was crying because my body and my mind were totally exhausted. I was crying because I was finally done. I was crying because it had gone much worse than I had planned. I was crying because I had set a goal and reached it. I was crying because I couldn't hold it back for one more minute.
Many people in the last couple days have asked me if I would run a marathon again. As of now, the answer is no. The half marathon distance seems to be more my speed. But I do look back on this as a good learning experience. I learned that if you set a goal and steadily work towards it, you can accomplish things you never thought possible. I learned that despite planning and planning and more planning, things don't always happen according to plan. I learned that when the chips are down and I am all by myself, I can pick myself up, devise a new plan and carry on.
In hindsight (which is always 20/20, or in this case 26.2/26.2) we probably started out too fast. We should have started slower and sped up in the second half if we still had the energy. Perhaps, just perhaps, I will remember that the next time I set out for a 26.2 mile run.
All of these photos are taken with my iPhone.
This is the race pace tattoo that was supposed to help us stay on track. We were with it or ahead of it for the first 13 or 14 miles. After that it mocked me from my forearm as we got further and further behind.
The is me and all my running girls. We affectionately call ourselves, The Marathon Muthas.
Me and Helmut. He had a much better run than me and finished in 3:42.
My precious finisher's medal. This is the only thing that got me through miles 23-26.2.
Congratulations! This was quite an experience...it almost made me cry just reading it. Definitely what memories are made of.
Posted by: Big Momma | January 17, 2012 at 07:39 PM
I did tear up as I read it. What an accomplishment!
Love,
Mom
Posted by: Jana Miner | January 18, 2012 at 06:33 AM
Nice work! I felt the same emotions at the end of a half but I bet it is twice as strong after 26.2. Display that medal proudly!
Posted by: Kendall | January 18, 2012 at 03:41 PM
CONGRATULATIONS DEBBIE!!!!!!! I am so impressed with your training both physically and mentally. I know that Helmut and especially your children admire this accomplishment. Making a goal and achieving it says more than all the lectures and little talks made at "tuck in time." Nice job Mom!!!!!
Posted by: rebecca ellis | January 18, 2012 at 04:24 PM