I never dreamed I would ever utter those words - not in a million years! So here I sit, still in a fair amount of pain, but blissfully happy and proud. Here's a recap of how it all went down:
After a pretty terrible night's sleep we awoke at 5:00 to the sound of pouring rain. After my friends Julie and Jen checked their phone's weather reports, we breathed a sigh of relief that the rain was supposed to end right around the 7AM start time. We planned to eat, leave the hotel by 6AM, and arrive in plenty of time to find the "All Cheese Coral" for the start (we all had our cheese apparel on!). Our plan began to unravel when we hit the lobby. Waiting by the door, affixing her race number to her shirt, was a much older woman wearing a glittery racing skirt. She was with her son and we began to make small talk about the rain. We soon learned that she was no ordinary grandma. She was the famous "Grammy" - a 68 year old woman who decided she was going to raise money for autism (her grandson is on the spectrum) by doing something daring. Although she had only started running a year earlier, she pledged to run 50 Half Marathons in all 50 states by the time she was 70 years old. The Wisconsin race was 1/2 marathon #30 for her.
Grammy was so interesting we ended up chatting and taking all kinds of picture, thus leaving VERY late for the start line. We rushed to the lakefront and frantically searched for parking, poking head holes in our garbage bags to prepare for the rain. We hurried to the start and only had a few minutes to spare. Everyone else ran to the port a potties - except me. I have a fear of port a potties. This would come back to haunt me later. Within minutes the race began - it took us 3 minutes to reach the start line. As if by divine intervention, the rain stopped just as I crossed the timing mat - we were off!!
The first 8 miles or so of the race was pretty fun. The scenery was beautiful along the lake, and the crowds were a hoot. Some spectators had set up "high five stations" and others were dressed up as Wisconsin symbols (a cheese man, a giant beer hop, etc.). My only complaint in the first third of the race were the hills. I have never trained on hills and I thought they had 4 pretty good sized ones for a course that was supposed to be flat. I was a little worried about how those hills were going to affect my knees and hips later in the race. By mile 8 my friend Jen began talking bathroom break (she has the bladder the size of a pea). It was here I made a small error in judgement - I decided to take a break with her. I didn't really have to go, but the bathrooms were REAL bathrooms (not port o potties), and I worried that I might have to use the bathroom at mile 20. I knew later in the race if I sat down, I would probably be unable to get back up. So I hurried off the course to use the facilities. The entire stop took about 4-5 minutes. This ended up costing me my sub-five dream, but oh well.
Jen and I continued on our way but I knew it was almost time to say goodbye to her. She was going to be turning around to finish her half marathon and I was going to be on my own. I wished her good luck and steeled myself for what was to come. At mile 11 1/2 the half marathoners broke left and the marathoners continued straight ahead. I went from being surrounded by hundreds of people to being almost completely on my own. Thank goodness my friend Jeanette had stopped to use the bathroom around mile 12 because I soon caught up with her and ran with her for a few miles. For the first part of the race, we all ran an interval of walking 1 minute for every 15 minutes of running. As the miles add up, it gets harder for your body to start back up again after stopping to walk, so by mile 14 Jeanette was done with the interval. We decided to run our own races from there. I was starting to worry because my hips were hurting pretty bad and we were only at mile 14, but I kept on, laughing at a spectator sign that said "Congratulations! You have been running longer than a Kardashian has been married!"
By mile 18 I knew I was in trouble. My hip continued to hurt and my mental toughness began to break down. That nagging voice of doubt began to whisper, "you aren't going to make it!", A little after mile 19 I stopped to walk and completely lost it. My hip was screaming and my mind was panicking. I told myself I was just going to have to walk the rest of the way. I can't tell you how demoralized I felt. I now realize I had hit my wall - at the time I didn't think that was the case. I always thought "the wall" was when your legs turned to jelly and you simply couldn't go any further. But there are mental walls too, and I had just hit mine. I had walked about 1/4 mile when an older gentleman passed me. He was probably in his 70's and he was wearing a shirt that said "50 Marathons in 50 States X 3" Well, heck, what was I whining about? So I said a small prayer and started running again.
At mile 21, I knew I had to take drastic measures to take my mind off my pain. I turned up the volume on my iPod as loud as it could go, closed my eyes, and started singing - out loud. Because all outside stimulus was blocked, my brain began focusing on moving my body forward, and I started to gain speed. I can't imagine what a lunatic I must have looked like. My iPod had a very strange selection of songs - from Wham, to Rick Springfield, to Rush, and Glee - and I sang them all as I continued on my way. But it worked. I cruised the next 5 miles at my fastest pace of the entire race, and passed a boatload of runners along the way (every one of whom looked at me with a mixture of horror and pity - I think I scared them). Twice I had the bike medics ask if I needed assistance since it looked as if I had gone off the rails. Little did they know I had gotten my second wind.
As I neared mile 26 I turned off the music since I wanted to fully experience the finish line. I was concentrating pretty hard on not throwing up (16 energy chews sitting in your stomach is not a pleasant thing) when I saw a familiar face standing at the mile 26 sign - my friend Scott (who had finished the race an hour earlier) and some little girl. I was so out of it I didn't realize that girl was my daughter! She ran onto the course to run me in the last .2 miles. "The finish line is really close, Mama!" she said. "How close?" I pleaded. "Really close". We turned around a bend and I saw it: FINISH. I gave cry of joy and took off on a full sprint, crossing the line with Katy beside me at 5:04:09. I had done it. I couldn't believe it!
All of my friends and family were waiting for me and we all celebrated. My friend Julie blew her 1/2 marathon time goal out of the water, my friend Jen ran her first 1/2 marathon after swearing only a few months before that she never would, my friend Scott put in a killer marathon time, and my friends Christy and Jeanette successfully completed their first marathons (under the 5 hour mark, no less!). We all were overjoyed. And tired.
I'm still processing it all - perhaps I'll be able to write a future blog entry on how this has changed me. Right now I"m still in a bit of a haze (and, to be honest, still in a bit of pain). But I know I'll keep running. In fact, just 1 hour after the race I was already thinking about when I could get back on the road. And last night I signed up for another race - the Quad Cities Half Marathon in September. I'm going to spend the summer getting faster and blow my half marathon time out of the water. And you can bet your life I'm going to do another marathon. Next Spring, I'm going to face this race again and beat it - this time, in under 5 hours. Bring it on!!!
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