Before today, the longest I've ever run was 15 miles; and that was nearly 6 months ago, on March 27. So, let's just say I went into today's 18 mile timed ING Marathon Tune-up race with a sense of adventure. I was going to try my best, and take it one mile at a time, but it would be a serious challenge. Would my foot injury flare up en route? Had my lack of sufficient training set me back significantly? Or would I find a way to harness my top-of-class stubbornness for good?
I used a little negative reinforcement. I told myself that I if I couldn't run 18 miles today, there really was no hope of finishing the marathon. (True.) It was do or die. And - barring blood spurting out of my leg stumps - I was not allowed to drop out.
I told myself I had prepared as well as I could have, considering my injury, but that less training meant more rested legs, so that was no excuse. (Sort of true.) With every passing mile, instead of saying "one down," I'd say, "17 to go; and I may not have run 17 miles before but I've run 15, and I survived; so there's no reason I can't run 15, plus a few more." And so on...
I had one major crisis during the run and that was after mile 10. I'd wrapped both my feet in compression bandages before I started, and the bandage on my left foot (which isn't injured, but always blisters badly) was cutting into my foot. I stopped on a bench, took both of my shoes off, and removed one of the bandages. I aired the socks out. 8 more miles? I just kept telling myself, "I've run 8 miles before. Piece of cake. The pain in my feet is nothing new. It's not an emergency. It's just pain. Keep going."
By mile 12, all I could think of was the ice bath I was going to soak in at my house. I'd prepared Tupperware filled with giant ice blocks to drop into the tub. It was going to be sweet! And then I'd sleep. I shut my eyes a few times while I was running; always awful opening them up again. *Yes, this is really happening. You are running 18 miles today. But it will be over soon and you can take a taxi to the ice bath, pretty princess!*
One of the worst surprises at today's run was that they didn't have enough power gels to go around. By the time I made it to the stations, they were out. I'd brought one with me just in case... and I had that after about an hour and a half of running, but I really could have used 2 or 3 more along the way. I hydrated a lot before the race, and took tablespoons full of Himalayan rock salt Friday and Saturday, which worked great. Very little salt on my skin and very little swelling. But there's nothing quite like a power gel to replenish all the electrolytes you lose running on a hot day.
Once I had looped the Park twice, I changed my attitude from "We'll see how far I get," to. "It is done." Short of having a heart attack or slipping and breaking my leg, nothing would have kept me from the finish. My pace got much slower but I could afford the time, so I didn't fret. All I needed to do was finish in under 4 hours. I thought I had that in the bag!
Not so much. In the end, I finished a few minutes over the target; but that's OK. The last few miles were just sheer torture. I tried to notice the "runner's high" I was feeling, and appreciate that; but by mile 16 I felt like I had cement blocks tied to my legs, which kinda ruined the buzz. I told myself to relax, and calm down, that that feeling would pass. (You get so panicked when you're running and something changes in your body that you aren't expecting!) But it didn't really pass. I just had to cope, slog on, and feel the breeze as clusters of early morning walkers passed me. Yes, walkers passed me... while I was running.
The finish line was my favorite finish line of all time!! I took my iPod off completely to enjoy the moment and, for the first time in my running career, I heard the announcer actually call my name as I crossed! Since there were very few people finishing when I did, I turned to him and called out, "Did I win?" He burst out laughing. It was good to hear the sound of my own voice. I am funny. And I just ran 18 fucking miles! And then I burst out crying because, well, I just ran 18 miles.
If I can be honest with you, I have never really been impressed with myself before. I'm always hard on myself. Whatever I do, whatever compliments I get, I say thank you but inside I'm thinking of how I could have done it better. But today, I did enough. And with 18 in my pocket, what's 26.2? I've done 18. And I've done 8. That's just 18 and 8, and a little blip. I can do that. Piece of cake! Marathon, here I come! I am really doing this.
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