So once we slogged our way out of the start, it was very tight. There were half marathoners, marathoners, 5k'rs and relay teams. All of us crammed in very tight spaces, and most of us wearing garbage bags. And it was raining.

I just found a nice pace and decided to have at it. I didn't hit laps for my mile times because I thought it would fake me out if I happened to get behind. I was aiming for a sub 4:29 finish to make my PR, but I realized that with the weather being what it was (high winds, cold, rain...) it wasn't likely.

Around mile 4 I was finally warmed up and feeling OK, despite it raining. And then, miraculously, the 4:15 pacer appeared at my arm. And I decided to go with him, and the groupies around him. And it was raining.

Now, there was a problem. I had to pee. Badly. In Columbus, this had cost me a big chunk of time and made me lose my pace. So I held it. And held it. And held it. All the while, slogging through puddles, there's water everywhere, so all I can think about is how full my bladder is. And then there's the thought..."I could just pee myself." And somehow, this seemed like viable option because, well, I'm already soaked literally to the bone and I'm going to just keep getting wet so what's a little pee? But then my brain kicked in and said, "hang on, you JUST washed that brand new car that you have to drive home to Norman...." So I held it. And it was raining. Finally around mile 15 or so, I see an empty port-a-loo and go for it. Relief! Sweet relief!

The turn onto Lake Hefner was welcome. The wind was finally at our backs, and we could see the field spread out ahead and behind. This was a huge boost for me too because this is where I had done most of my long runs. I knew this place like the back of my hand. Plus, it looked like the sun was going to come out, and for a moment, I thought it had stopped raining.

I got some peanuts (and nearly choked on them) from the Southwest ladies running the aid station, took some fluids and settled in.

We came out of the park and headed back towards town, and then the skies just opened up again. The rain came down. The thunder clapped. ANNNNND the lightning got a little close for my comfort. It was like you could feel the electricity afterwards. Scary! And I was getting cold. Really cold.

At this point, the remembrance banners were out. Each victim had a banner somewhere on the course, and to help me in my hard miles, I did something like, "This is for ____, may they rest in peace and may their family have comfort" and then the next one, "This is for ____, may they rest in peace..." It helped me focus on something other than the pain in my hip flexors and the rain. It was therapeutic.

Mile 20 was alright. I told myself that there was only a 10k left, and celebrated that fact gratuitously! Mile 21 was tougher...made even tougher by the hail that started to come down, and on some seriously cold skin, it felt like tacks being thrown from the sky. Mile 22, I started to get the weepies because my husband wasn't going to be at the finish line. Mile 23 I started to go downhill rapidly. My quads were screaming at me, my hands were frozen into little claws, and my hopes of a PR were gone. And then this guy passes me in a 2010 Finisher shirt. And I thought, "Dammit, I want that shirt!" so I hunkered down, took some fluids and some food and stepped on it. I let myself walk the aid stations and rain in between. I was motivating myself (outloud...sorry folks) with thoughts of warm sheets, dry socks, and hooded sweatshirts.

I rounded the bend for home and saw the firefighters in full turnout waiting to finish (bad a$$). I decided to sprint that last bit, to make it hurt. And it did. Oh yes it did. But I crossed the line, and was so happy!



When in doubt, wear long sleeves!

Well, by this point, I was having some pretty crazy thoughts and couldn't find the gear tent, so I stumbled into the med tent to get my blood sugar checked. The RN and volunteers sat me down, got the name age etc stuff out of the way...and then she touched me and said that I was freezing.

*shiver shiver shiver* what *shiver* do*shiver* you *shiver* mean *shiver*.

So she wrapped me up like a baked potato while she went to fetch a glucometer. As none could be found, she came back with a rather large needle that I could only assume was borrowed from the zoo, and she drew blood (annnd I bled all over the blankets and I'm pretty sure both volunteers...what can I say, I bleed well). Meanwhile, I was getting colder, and colder, and colder. Much like everyone else in the tent...it seemed like everyone was being treated for hypothermia. The volunteers wrapped me up tight and layered on the blankets, took off my shoes and completely soaked socks, and had me take my shirt off.

Blood results came back A+ for having just run a marathon. After the wonderful volunteers and RN's and Drs got me warmed up, changed into my dry finisher's shirt and into my dry jacket, I got a hug from the RN (aww!) and another volunteer drove me to my car (which was less than 2 blocks away...yeah happy accidents!)


Rain. Cold. Winds. Thunder. Lightning.


This race has THE best volunteers of any race I've ever done. It seemed like every time you started to think, "Hm, water would be nice!" there was a water station. And, you have to be seriously dedicated to go and stand out there in weather like that. The medical staff were tremendous and wonderful and they made my day by not making me feel daft for asking for help, because I probably would not have made good choices had I not stopped there. I would definitely do this race again.