Just like the MVP of the winning super bowl team, I finished the half marathon and then we took off for the trip of a lifetime. Okay maybe it wasn't like that. While I'm definitely not any sort of MVP, I can tell you it was the trip of a lifetime. More to come on that in a day or so!
Race morning started bright and early (at 4:50 am), enough time to eat breakfast, let it settle, stretch out a few nervous butterflies and arrive at the course early enough to get ready.
With over 11,000 people running the half plus the runners participating in the 10K (which also started in the same place), I asked Dad to drop me off. So we loaded up the family a few minutes before 6 and headed to Tempe.
Dad dropped me off and I walked toward the starting line. I admit, I was quite nervous but strangely calm at the same time. I sat down on the curb next to the coral (#9) that I was assigned to and tried to visualize the race, especially the hills. Photographers passed me on the left and right taking pictures of groups of runners, all pumped with excitement and dressed in fun costumes. I was there by myself on the curb, taking it all in. And I was completely comfortable with it.
With the sun barely rising in the far off distance, I moved to a grassy area and started to stretch. It reminded me of my high school track days. I definitely don't feel though like I'm 17. I warmed up, stretched, drank my last bottle of water and decided I'd better go to the bathroom before the race started. Me and about 5,000 of my closest friends waited together in line for 35 minutes to take our turn in one of about 15 port-a-potties. It's a funny thing about runners, no one is embarrassed or thinks twice about bathroom visits. In fact, I find it to be one of the best places to start up conversations and chat with complete strangers about race strategies. This experience was no different. The man in front of me was completing his second P.F. Changs, he shared with me that last year he had completed the full marathon and weighed 100 pounds more, (he weighed over 300 when he finished the full). After crossing the finish line on the full he caught the running bug and has been participating in many races since. I told him it was my first half marathon and he reassured me I'd be fine. I'll never know his name or remember what he looked like, but that conversation, gave me reassurance and motivation that if you set your mind to something, you can accomplish it.
It was soon time to line up and I squeezed into the coral. To say it felt like we were crammed in was an understatement. I tried to make my way into the coral further and realized there was no other space. We were jammed in like sardines and the only good thing was that everyone still had their nice pre-race smell. We (meaning me and the people sharing shoulder space with me) counted down the minutes and seconds until the gun went off and then.... we waited.
Yep, we waited almost a whole 15 minutes until it was our turn to start. They wanted to space out the runners and even after waiting that whole time, the course still felt continuously crowded. With the countdown from 10, I heard the blow horn and finally took off. Immediately I felt excited. Gone were the nerves and simply calm and excitement took over. I told myself over and over not to start out too fast, a common mistake made. I didn't want to be the one at the end with nothing left to give. My goal was to complete the race in less than 2 hours. I knew I had to stay around 9 minute miles to get there, my hope was to be able to go a little bit faster.
My running coach said to break up the race into three parts. The first 5 miles run it at 1/2 marathon pace, the second 5 miles, run it at 10k pace and the final 5k (3.1 miles) run it like you run track work outs. While I'm pretty sure, I didn't do those paces, breaking up the race made it seem so much more manageable.
As I passed mile one, I saw a young man, about the age of my future brother-in-law Aaron, who was "running" the race in his wheelchair. In a standard wheelchair (unlike the racing wheelchairs in their own race), he was using his arm strength and "running" it with us. I couldn't help but think about Aaron and how he'd probably in an instant sign up to run that race if it means he could walk again. With watery eyes and motivation to run my best in his honor, I continued on, motivated and moved by what I had just observed.
That was not the last of the water works filling my eyes. I think that's part of the experience of an endurance event, the stories, the amazing individuals, and the quotes along the way. I saw a man who had to have been in his 80's running at a pace way too fast for me. I thought, God, please let me be like him when I'm in my 80's. I saw one of our finest soldiers dressed in his complete uniform carrying his heavy backpack and running in his army issued boots. If that wasn't inspiring enough, seeing him receive the pats on the back, the handshakes and the cheers from other runners, made me realize just how great this country is and that there really are a lot of people who realize our freedom doesn't come with a heavy price tag. I also saw a man, without legs running in blades. He ran with such grace and smooth stride, I wondered how long it had take him to run with his new "feet" and if he was a runner before. In my mind I wondered if he had been a soldier and lost his legs when an AED exploded along some road-side in some hostile country.
And then I saw a woman about my age, running at the same pace I was. I tried to follow right behind her to avoid the continuous dodging of runner traffic. I had been watching the back of her head when I glanced down at the saying on the back of her shirt. It read, "In memory of my husband. I run to remember how much he loved to be here." I cried. Five years ago I participated in my first marathon in honor of my husband and the battle he was fighting against cancer and here I was running again with a fairytale life. A healthy husband, three healthy and wonderful children... what more could I ask? And yet in the same strides next to me, was a woman living my greatest fear. How blessed I have truly been.
Seeing those sites along the way continued to give me strength and pushed me to continue maintaining my steady pace. At mile 5, I was re-energized again when I saw Jarrett and the kids. They came out and had made signs cheering me on.
I was the first one to see them and by the time I got their attention I had already passed them, so it was a really quick exchange of hellos and back to the course I went. By this point I was averaging a pace of just a few seconds under 9 minute miles, I knew my goal was attainable.
I kept on and pictured in my mind where I'd see them all again. Mile 6 passed, Mile 7 passed and as we hit mile 8, I knew the challenge was just about to begin. The course involves a few hills (actually a lot I think) and starting around mile 8 I didn't know I was in for hills for the next 4 miles. It was NOT fun. It was NOT easy. I would NOT like to do it again, but I did it. And I kept a strong pace. Sadly I missed Dad and the kids at the second stop, I guess I was mentally into focusing on the task in front of me and the music in my ears was turned up too loudly.
I also found support in the text messages I got along the way. My family back in Iowa was following me along the course and sending me texts along the way. While I couldn't respond at the time, they really did help.
As I crossed over mile 12, I knew I had to give it everything I had left and I didn't know if there was much left to give. I feared I had left it all back on those hills behind me. I created my own manta and repeated it over and over with every step I took.
I put in the miles. I put in the time. I trained for this. I will finish. I will finish strong.
Silly I know, but when you it feels like every step is like climbing up the entire Sears Tower, a silly mantra got me through.
Finally I got to the Mill Ave bridge and picked up my pace. All of a sudden, over top of my music that was turned all the way up, I heard someone screaming my name and shouting, "RUN RUN RUN RUN FASTER FASTER FASTER!" It was my friend and running partner Michele. She had come out to help bring me home. Seeing her took away all the exhaustion and just like a sprinter finishes an 800M race, I dug down deep and pushed through the last of the race. I crossed the finished line, waiving like a maniac, smiling for the cameras and taking in every moment. It was just as magical as I remember my first marathon being.
Finally I looked down at my phone and tapped "finished" on my running app. It read 1 hour and 57 minutes. Three minutes earlier than my 2 hour goal. I had done it and crazy enough still had a smile on my face.
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| My official race day results. |
I walked through the finish line area, took my picture with my medal and walked out to try and find Jarrett and the kids. Thankfully I found them quite quickly and received congratulatory hugs, kisses and cheers. I could see the kids were excited to see I had done it. They held up their signs and said, "You did it Mom!" While Isabelle cheered, "Go Mom Go!" I don't think she knew I was actually done.
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| We asked a spectator to take a family picture of us and after four separate times we gave up. I guess he didn't think that little girl standing at my feet was in family... he kept cutting her out of the picture. SO... |
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| We decided to take a group shot at home! Isabelle's included in this one! |
It's something I talk about often with the kids, and I figured it was time I started walking the talk.
I don't know what race is next for me, but I can tell you I can't wait to get back out there and run again. I know I'll have to sign up for something soon, its too easy to put oneself on the back burner when there are many other time obligations.
As I walked with my family to the car, hand in hand with each boy, I thought again about the lady running in memory of her husband and I couldn't help but thank God for the blessings in my life. And I asked him to bless her. Everyone is deserving of blessings.
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| Post race family selfie |
Until next time,
Angie
