First few miles:
Went out gently, turned on the ipod after we got away from the race music, and tried to run comfortably and easily. Checked my heart rate- all good. 120’s, it will come up. 135, 8:30 pace- all good. Actually, I was expecting to be at a 9:30 pace, but 8:30 seemed about right. Perfect. 1st mile down. Legs feeling a little heavy, but that’s fine, typical when I’m not really warmed up yet. But what’s this? My right shin is hurting. But wait- it was my LEFT shin that had the shin-splints. Uh-oh. I taped the left shin, and it’s pain free- but my right shin is starting to really hurt. 1.5 miles. 2 miles and the pain was already at a 4 or 5. Damn! I’m not going to make 8 miles today. WTF?! Everything else is feeling fine, but that damn shin. My pace is where I want it to be, a little slower than my intended average. People are passing me left and right. The 3:40 pace group- which was just really a ‘hopeful’ time, is pulling away, that’s OK. But it’s all about the shin at this point. Shin shin shin shin. Change my stride. Stretch it while running. All I can think about is what’s going to happen to my shin. For now, it’s still working and I’m holding 8:20-8:30. Hurting, but functioning, so I keep running- trying to find the right stride that minimizes the pain. Calves are feeling good- run more on my toes. Use my calves to stretch out my shin with each step. People are already stopping to stretch, pee. More people are easing past me. The 3:40 sign is getting further away. Made a mental note- if I have to stop and pee, stop on the far side of a building, not on the side that’s visible to all of the oncoming runners.

Miles 3-6:
Holding my pace under 8:30. OK, don’t forget nutrition. Each water stop I drink a cup of Cytomax, and then take stock of my thirst level often taking some water as well. The shin is still bugging me, but it’s not getting any worse. Trying to keep my HR below 151- that was the plan, but whenever I do anything- such as reach for my pouch and get out a shot block, or slap the hands of the cheerleaders lining the sides of the road, I look down and see my HR at 153. Ease up, watch your pace. HR 148. Good. Keep on truckin. Fewer people passing me. I can still see the 3:40 sign way up ahead. I know I can catch him- but now’s not the time. I see a guy in an orange shirt up ahead. I catch him, and in small letters on the back it says “your body is stronger than you think it is”. I make it a point to remember that quote, and use it later in the race… I’ll need it.

Miles 7-10.
People watching. Girl with two braided pig tails. Guy in what looks like a full body one piece lycra suit. People with names and sayings on their shirts. So many people wearing headsets and in their own world- it’s hard to talk to anyone. Tall chick up ahead with way too skinny legs. Dude with shorts that seem way too long. Another guy stepping really high- seems like a lot of wasted energy. I’m just shuffling along and then notice, my right shin has finally warmed up. Yes! I’m feeling good at this point. Yeah, I wanted to keep my HR below 151 until mile 10, but given HR drift and that I’m pretty warmed up, I’m allowing it to climb above that every now and then. But no more than 153… ok 154, but when I see it that high, I relax and bring it down. Cher’s “Gypsys, Tramps and Thieves” comes on the ipod- and the tempo works surprisingly well. I’ve downed 2 or 3 shot blocks already and 5 cups of Cytomax, plus some water. So glad I brought 10oz water bottle with me, that way I’ve got something to wash the Cliff bloks down with. I’ve downed more than half of it, so I call out to a water volunteer that I want her to pour the cup in, as I hold out the bottle. She’s an older woman, not too quick on the draw and gets about half of it in, but close enough. I do this a few more times in the race- with better success as I learned to spot the more alert volunteers. The 2 young guys at the 22mi water stop double teamed my bottle and filled it up in 2 seconds- I thanked them big time, said “great job” and moved on.

Miles 10-14.
Following my plan, I’m now allowed to let my HR rise to the mid 150’s, and run at my goal pace. Actually- I think I started this at mile 9, but who cares. I start inching up on people and passing them, recognizing so many that passed me in the beginning. The 3:40 pacer is up ahead. It will take me until mile 12 to catch him, but I keep getting closer and closer. I’m feeling good at this point, warmed up and running fine. I take an extra water cup at each stop and pour it down my back for extra cooling. The Achilles hurt, but not too much for now, the shin is at bay, my right knee hurts too, but I think I’ll just ignore it. I shut my ipod off whenever I see a band coming up so I can take in the tunes. Some are good, some aren’t. Course is still lined with people. Whenever I see a younger group, I yell out ‘how about some cheering’… they always oblige. We need the help- and it does help. Group after group of costumed young cheerleaders line the roads; I hold out my hand to high five them as I go by. Seems to make them feel appreciated. One’s wearing black gloves… good idea. I catch the 3:40 pacer who is surrounded by a throng of runners. He’s running about an 8:20 and I’ve been laying down 8 flats for a couple miles now. I end up crossing the cones into oncoming traffic to pass the mob, by mile 14 they’re in my taillights. This was a good stretch for me.

Miles 14-18
Keeping up the pace, I think between 8 and 8:15 or so. Passing people left and right- this is a fun stretch. Chick wearing an XOOD shirt- talked to her about wishing that they were serving XOOD instead of Cytomax. She said she didn’t like XOOD. “Then why are you wearing the shirt?” “They sponsor me.” Well, that chick got ‘duded’ at 15. At 15.5 I’m passing a guy yelling “where’s the water?” (according to the map there was supposed to be a water stop right at 15.5, but it was another ½ mile ahead). I see that he’s got an amphipod belt on with two full bottles on his back. He was looking a little out of it, so I mentioned to him that he had water with him. Funny stuff. He admitted that he was feeling a little delirious. “have a good run” and I kept moving on. I’m feeling the miles in my legs. Everything is starting to hurt a little, the knee, the Achilles and my hips- the shin is fine though. Maintaining pace, HR is right on target in the mid 150’s to low 160’s. Taking in Cytomax, water and eating a few more shot blocks. Garmin is pretty far off at this point, not clicking off the miles until hundreds of feet passed the mile markers. So, perhaps some of those miles were even faster than were registered. I’ll never really know how much. Miles 18, 19 and 20 were solid for me at near 8min/mi pace.

Miles 19-23
Runners are dropping left and right. Good looking shirtless guy ahead of my sees a cute blond with a pony tail walking on the right. He goes over to her, gives her a little push and she starts jogging alongside him and they chat. I catch up to them and see that he’s got an M-dot (ironman) tattoo on his right calf. I ask him which is harder. He starts giving me a long description, but then says that this is his first marathon. “oh, so you don’t know yet”. I pass him, but he looks strong and I say, “you’ll pass me later”. Tall girl in a pink shirt that reads- ‘you’ve been chicked’ on the back. Damn, I gotta’ catch her. Between here and mile 25ish, I think only 3 people pass me. I grab two gels at the 19 mile station, jet blackberry ugh. One for now, and one for mile 22. Stomach isn’t feeling great- I’ve taken in more calories than I can digest already, but I do a gel and drink some of the water I’ve got with me. It’s feeling good to be reeling in the crowd, everything is hurting, but I’ve still got a little spunk left. I pass the 21 mile point and see the clock, it’s says 2:53:40. I do some quick math. I need to hit 3:31 for BQ 5 miles x 8 min mile is 40min, but if I can take 2 min off of that, I can be close. That’s 4 miles at a 7:30. I don’t really think I can do it, but there’s no time like the present, this is what I’m here for- I’ve gotta’ give it my all, then who knows what I’ll be able to lay in for the last mile if I’m close enough. Of course, I’m aware at the time that I didn’t account for the last 0.2 mi which will add another 1.5 to 2 min, but I decide to ignore that fact. I pick up the pace and look down at my watch. I see 7:15, then 7:25, I’m holding it..for a while. But, I hit every water stop, walk for a few seconds, fill up my bottle and keep going. That hurts my pace a bit but I have a couple of strong miles, sub-8, but still not fast enough for a BQ. I check out the 23mi clock and it says almost 3:10. 3.2 mi; that’s over a 5K in 20 minutes. Not happening.

Miles 23+
I down the second gel and more water. That extra kick really added to the pain, and now I’m in agony with each step. I know that there’s no way to BQ, so I allow myself to ease up a bit and cruise at 8:30ish. Shirtless ironman guy passes me, we chat a bit and he share’s how much he’s hurtin’. I agree- “yeah, it really hurts, doesn’t it”. Misery loves company, and he eases past me. The pain at this point is pyrotechnic. Every step includes a sharp reminder of the miles behind me that shoots through my Achilles, knee, quads right up into my hips. There are moments when I can’t feel that I’m controlling my feet at all- like they are detached from my body- but still moving. I check my HR- 158-160. I’ve still got room to let it rise through the 160’s at this point, but not enough energy in my legs to get it there. Every 3rd step or so, I feel muscles on the verge of cramping. The quads are giving out- I hope they don’t seize up before the finish. Keep moving, keep running. All that nutrition and water that I downed early in the race is keeping me going. My calorie intake I calculate to be over 800; that should be enough to get me there; I don’t feel like I’m going to ‘hit the wall. My stomach doesn’t feel all that good, so it’s only water from here on in. There’s a bridge over the 202 at 23.5mi ahead that looks like a vertical wall, even though it’s just a little hump. I pass shirtless ironman on the way up the little hill and don’t see him again until we talk after the race.

Mile 24, Mile 25.
Steady pain contrasted with the glorious feeling that I was definitely going to make it. Motivational quotes are going through my mind. “It’s a marathon goddamit, it’s supposed to hurt.” “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” “Your body is stronger than you think it is.” “Pain is temporary, quitting lasts forever.” I didn’t know what was going to be left of me when I crossed that finish line, but I knew that I was going to give it my all to get there. Still passing most people, but by mile 26 there were a few with some solid kicks at the end. Two tall young athletic looking girls run by me. Impossibly cute tight little black shorts on a girl ahead of me serve as a carrot. I pass her just shy of 26.

The finish:
The last 0.2 is a dream. I had a little left to give and gave it. Rounded the final tight corners- one short girl that I had passed earlier came flying by me at an impressive speed “nice kick” I say to her, as I pass a few myself hitting a 7min/mi. I let myself get emotional for a few moments as tears begin to fill my eyes, from joy or pain, I’m not sure. I see the finish line, but then a chip mat caught my attention about 100 yards short of the finish. The girl next to me says’ that’s the finish, and I shut off my garmin but don’t slow down. Then I look up and see the real finish and turn it back on again 3 seconds later. A big yellow arch and the photographers lay before me. There was a small crowd right in front of me, so I couldn’t get a clear spot between people for a good finish photo- we’ll see how good those photographers are. As I promised myself, I wanted to finish with my arms held high. I raised one as I crossed, then the other, with a teary-eyed smile filled with passion and anguish on my face.


tape both shins.
Other than that- I did everything I set out to do.

Just as I’m crossing the line, I hear them calling out the names of the other finishers. I hear “Brian Glasco”, Hey, I know him. Then a few more names and “Morey Brown”. OK- that means that the chip got recorded. Yes! I can barely walk. I’m handed a finisher’s medal from a line of volunteers left and right- it’s heavy. I step wobbly over to the left and grab a space blanket. I was still overheated from the race, but knew I would need it soon (I did). Took off my hat and put my stuff down for the quick race photo. Wasn’t sure exactly how to smile. Wobbled over to the maze of bananas, energy bars, cytomax and water. My stomach wasn’t feeling ready, but got down as much as I could. Saw Brian and congratulated him. Chatted with a few others everyone congratulating everyone else. Saw shirtless ironman sitting on the ground- I guess he came in not far behind me and we chatted. He said that the marathon at the end of the ironman wasn’t as painful, but he didn’t do it nearly as fast.

I could walk slowly… barely. Of course, my bag pick-up was at the far end of the line, then I hobbled all the way back to the other side at the family area to meet the other fleet feet folk. Hung out and chilled for a while and shared race stories with Alison, Morgan, Rich, Pam, Dave, Carrie. Damn, what an experience.



me