Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon - RunMarathon

Several months ago, I told Mary, I didn't think I would do THE PIG again. There was no reason. I had done it 3 times before, and I wanted to do more exciting marathons around the world. A few months ago, my friend, MIKE, at work asked me to pace him for THE PIG. It was an interesting question. I had never paced anyone before, PLUS, the race was only 2 weeks after my BOSTON marathon. Several questions loomed in my little brain. Could I recover fast enough? Would I be "burned out" from a race so close? Could I PACE someone properly? Ya never know until you try I guess. I agreed. A few days prior to the race, another guy I work with said he had a friend who wanted to join our little group...why not? However, I made it clear to her....MIKE was my primary goal...for several reasons, but also, cause he PAID my way for this race. SO, the gun went off. We positioned ourselves around the 3:50 group. Mike wanted to break 4 hours. THAT was his goal. Rebecca wanted to do the same. The weather had been threatening rain for the last few days, and as we started the race, a spitting rain began to soak our lycra as the rising sun tried to break in the East. The crowd was large, and trying to set a pace the first mile was crazy. We hit a 9:48, which was about 42 seconds slow. My goal was to get them on pace and keep them there, but now we had to make up time. Great. I told them we would make it up slowly over the next few miles, so we didn't sprint the next one. Over the bridge into Kentucky land we went, through Newport, through Covington and by mile 4, we were dead on our needed pace. Down the road we trotted, beginning to head out of down town Cincy and into the suburbs. We began to hit the miles a few seconds fast for the next few, putting some time in the bank...a BANK we cashed in later. The next few miles were UP hill, as we made our way through the parks and some very scenic veiws. Rebecca was starting to get tired. Mike still looked fresh. I was having fun. Around mile 14, Mike said he was getting tight, and we were loosing Rebecca at the water stops, as she grabbed a drink, she took the next 3 or 4 minutes to catch back up. By mile 16, I dropped back to talk to her. She said she was hurting a little and her face was drenched in sweat. I told her I had to stick with MIKE, since he paid my way THIS time. I told her to keep with the liquids and we'd see her a the finish. I caught back up to Mike, and off we went. Around mile 20ish, Mike started to get some leg problems. Cramps. He had to spot to walk it out. Here is where I know I helped him, but at the same time probably pissed him off. It was time to earn my keep. I became the nag. He was hurting now and his legs were seizing up....A LOT! I KNEW the feeling....I KNEW the pain, but he had a goal...and he was going to be very pissed if he missed it by just a little bit....so I began the NAG process. We continued on. At every mile, he would tell me our "clock" time and I would recalculate our pace and figure what we had to do. Our BANK time began to slip away. By mile 23, it was getting VERY thin....and soon the 4 HOUR pacers passed us. OPPS. I made sure Mike saw this. THAT was our goal, visually set before us. BEAT THEM OR FAIL. And it began. We stopped to walk again, and that group gained distance on us. I knew it. He knew it. I said it out loud. He ran. Now, it was run, or fail. We came to the 24 mile mark, and we began to catch the pacer....I let him know...JUST 2 MILES! We ever so slowly began to catch the pacer. He was hurting, but there was no stopping. RUN....WIN....WALK...FAIL. We ran, and slowly the pacer got closer. We climbed the final hill, topped it, and Mike picked up his pace. PERFECT! We passed the pacer. Now we turned a corner and we could see the finish line. Mike found his last, extra gear, and I pushed him on. LESS THAN 1 MINUTE OF PAIN TO GO!. We picked it up...WAY UP. Faster....faster...faster we passed people. There was no stopping now...The finish line loomed before us. The crowds were roaring. I was having a blast seeing someone reach their goal and I keep pushing him....not letting him think he could slow down until we crossed THAT line. And then we did. 3:58:48. Time to spare.

As a first time pacer...I'm not sure yet...stuff to ponder.

Walk to beer house.


Nuttin.


Always a pleasure. My family supported me when they KNEW this wasn't MY race, and THAT felt great!