Did first mile in 10:20! YEEESH. OUCH! Sooo many runners. I knew my first mile would be slow, but not THAT slow. By mile five I had chipped my avg down to 9 minutes, even. At mile 6, the course took us over the Ambassador Bridge, and into Canada. Saw Gov. Jen Granholm with a small posse, at bridge enterance. Neat!

By mile 10, I had dropped avg down to 8:45. I felt good. Seeing the Detroit skyline from the Canada side in the early morning was a highlight. Met my Sister at the half-way point (1:55.08). My race goal had been 3:45, so I was right on target.

I continued to bang out the miles at good paces but I could tell that they were becoming more *forced* as opposed to natural. At mile 17, the course took us onto Belle Isle (a small island on the Detroit river). Right about now I started to labor...miles were definitely becoming *hard* and LONG. As we were about to cross the bridge back into Detroit I saw a guy literally "drop" from exhaustion. Several spectators and runners ran to help him...by the time I crested the bridge police and an ambulance had whizzed by.

What was neat about the course was once we exited off the bridge (THANK GOD) we had exactly a 10K left. At this point I was STILL right on pace for 3:45 finish. Then. Things started to fall apart. Not only did the miles seem forced, but aches emerged: Hamstrings, quads, calfs. I had hoped to be able to finish strong, and even though up till now I was tiring, I still felt I had an extra gear in me for a fast finish. BUT. Once the pains emerged...well. No extra gear.

I knew I was in trouble when I couldn't suck on a jollyrancher (I had to spit it out). Mile 21. Gosh. The impulse to walk began to hit me. Fellow runners were dropping left and right. Somehow, I mustered the energy and refused the OVERWHELMING urge to walk. Miles now seemed SOOOOOOOOOOOOO LOOOOOOOOOONG. Sadly, my splits began to suffer. I'm not sure exactly what they were - as I was too busy trying to keep myself together at this point - but one mile was 9:15. At mile 22 beer was offered. I grabbed one, took a swallow and promptly spit it out again. GOD. The urge to walk was SOOO strong. I was becoming distraught. Not only was my goal time slipping away, but now I was struggling with just "finishing." This marathon was so much different from my Spring marathon where I took it out in two hours but finished hard (1:55).

More and more people were walking...I didn't feel the urge to cry, but I definitely was overcome by emotion as I soldiered on. The last .2 miles took us into Ford Field (home of the 4-2 Detroit Lions!). What SUCKED was we had run down a steep, clay incline (for which I skipped).

I crossed the finish line. NEVER had I felt so exhausted. I was disappointed in my time, but I was bouyed by the fact that I still PB'ed by 5 minutes, and I did finish without walking. I must've looked bad, since I was approached by several volunteers. All around me people were sprawled out on the turf; some were sitting, others, well...

I made my way up several flights of stairs out of the stadium bowl, but couldn't find my sister. I HAD to find her. Damn, I was in such a mess. Eventually I just "dropped" under a pillar and wrapped my tin foil cape around my body and tried not to pass out. Several kind people approached and asked if I needed help, etc.

After sitting maybe 20 minutes a fellow marathoner saw me trying to get up and offered his hand...I began looking for her again. Eventually I saw her outside the stadium. All marathoners upon finishing the race were funneled out of the stadium admist a HUNDREDS of spectators. So somehow when I exited the stadium she had missed me, and I her. I felt like salmon going up stream trying to get by all these people outside...Honestly, if I had saw earlier, I might HAVE cried. By now though, my body and mind had stablized.




Not sure. Train harder? Take it out even faster?

The finish was sooo CRAZY. Finding people was near impossible.