I knew when I started this run that I was not where I should be in my training. I had a number of injuries that I was still trying to recover from. But, I had entered and I wanted to participate in this run, so my plan was to just run as far as I felt I could and call it a day.
The run started
out jut fine. I started at the back of the pack, slowly built up my pace until
I was holding a steady 6:45 per K. I was very happy with this but knew I would
not be able to keep it up for very long. As I thought, by about the 18K mark my
injuries got the better of me and I was forced to back way off. By this time I
couldn't help but notice how busy all the aid stations were getting. People
were pulling out as early as the 12K mark. Now in my mind, this had become a challenge.
Now I was in it to the bitter end. I wanted that medal!
During this
blind-eyed adventure, I think I experienced every emotion there was to experience.
Determination. I
was going to finish this thing, one way or another.
Compassion. At
around the 25K mark I came up on a young woman who was walking and crying. She
was clearly in a lot of pain. I could relate to this. I came up beside her and
asked if she was all right. She looked at me and told me through her
tear-filled eyes that her knees really hurt. I asked her if she would like me
to send back a first aid person for her. She sobbed and said no and then
resumed running and sped off. Just a couple of minutes later I came upon her again,
walking across the very narrow Alexandra bridge, oblivious to all the runners
doing their best not to run into her. I came up behind her and gently guided
her over to the side where she would be less likely to be run into. I stayed
with her most of the way across the bridge and then got on my way again. I
didn't see her again.
Sadness and loneliness.
At somewhere around the 32K mark, the best I could manage was speed walking. I
was no longer in any kind of group. I had fallen behind most runners but well
out in front of the walkers. So there I was, working my way down this long
empty stretch of road, not able to run anymore and in a lot of pain. I don't
remember ever feeling so lonely. There was nothing I could do but quit when I
came to the next aid station. This just made me feel very sad and defeated. I
stopped and looked around behind me to see if I could spot the young woman with
the bad knees. No one in sight but a couple of slower runners working their way
toward me. Where the hell was I? over 7,000 participants started this event.
Now I was almost completely alone!
Anger and shame.
Here I was, walking!! what the hell!!! In the back of my mind I knew I
shouldn't have even started this run. I knew I would end up in trouble if I was
silly enough to try and finish it. So the next best thing my head could do was
to get angry at my body. I was just a raw emotion. I couldn't rationalize it
and at that moment, I couldn't stop it. I was just angry. And at the same time,
I was ashamed of myself. When I first entered this run, I had grand plans of
not just beating last year's time, I was going to smash it! Now look at me.
Reduced to speed walking, and getting slower.
Pain and disappointment.
At about the 41K mark I was hit with such a terrible pain in my left calf, it
felt like a knife thrust into the side of my calf and then quickly drawn
downward toward the ankle. I have never experienced anything even close to that
before in my life and hope I never do again. I stumbled and almost fell to the
ground. I was able to make my way over to a hand rail that I grabbed on to. NOT
NOW! I am just too close! All this suffering and work was going to end within
less than 2 kilometers of the finish line. I tried my best to stretch the calf
and much to my relief, the pain started to subside. Someone had pulled that
knife back out. I was able to start moving again. What a relief. I was going to
cross that finish line now, no matter what!
Happiness. I was
within 800 meters of the finish line and a volunteer known as a Running Angel
came up to me. She could see I was in an incredible amount of pain. She started
walking along with me just talking to me, trying to encourage me along. It
worked. With her support and encouragement I was actually able to get up to a
slow but sloppy run. Style and form counted for nothing now. I could see the
finish line. The two of us crossed it together. I MADE IT!! I just about
collapsed the moment I crossed the finish line but I was across. Now, where is
that stupid medal! I have never worked so hard for anything in my life.
It took me about
20 minutes or so but I was eventually able to move slowly around the recovery
area. Sara was there to help and support me. It was over. My second marathon.
When I started
running back in 2011, I had set a goal for myself to run one marathon, just to experience
it. It seemed like a lofty goal at that time. Now I have done it a second time.
I don't know why I signed up for a second marathon. I have climbed my Mount
Everest, twice. I must be crazy.
Anyway, I have
now run several half marathons, half a dozen 10K runs and I don't know how many
other shorter runs. I do think that this is it for me for marathons. So what
now? I have already thinking about that one. I want to try trail running. I hear
there is a run near Milton this summer that I think I can get in. It is only
about 14K long and is 100% on a trail in the woods.
I love a challenge!
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