The Twenty Six Point Two Miles

OK, I know I've kept you all waiting for this.  The day itself was so overwhelming that it has taken a few days to recover and to revisit.  It all started very early on Saturday morning...

My alarm went off at 3:15am.  Yes, that's right.  I wrote THREE AM.  Very early.  I got dressed and made some oatmeal and a cup of coffee.  We met the team downstairs at 4am.  Everyone had made such an effort with names on their shirts, purple ribbon in their hair and temporary tattoos on their cheeks. My Mum and Dad got up at that time too and came downstairs with their signs to cheer. 

We got on the bus at 4:15am and I wasn't feeling that great.  All the excitement and lack of sleep had me feeling nauseous and in general I'm not a great traveler so I laid my head back and closed my eyes trying to calm down.  As such, I wasn't really aware that the bus driver got lost and we did 2 U-turns before finally arriving at the start line!

When we arrived we saw stands with bananas, bagels and water and a long line of port-a-potties.  We were extremely early and spent the next 2 hours shivering on the sidewalk while everyone else showed up. The weather would be perfect for the race but was a bit chilly while we waited. Eventually the minutes crawled by and we made our way to our corral to line up for the start. We had learned that there were 28,000 entrants in the race, but only 7,000 of those were marathoners.  

The race began at 7am, but it was another 30 minutes before we would cross the start line.  NP, Laura and I noticed that the lines for the port-a-potties were now non-existent and took the chance to hop out of line and visit them one more time only to find our way back into the starting lines blocked.  Yikes! We jumped over the barriers despite the officials yelling at us not to.  Getting to the starting line of this marathon really was proving to be quite difficult.

But, eventually, about 7:35am, we jogged through the start and off we went.  The first 4 miles were through some pretty neighbourhoods before we ran by Lake Washington for another 4.  We joked about dropping in on an open house and enjoyed the cheering families on the side lines.  NP was off to a flying start and Laura and I had to work to keep up with her. 

Before we knew it,  we met up with Sean and Mum and Dad for the first time.  They were impossible to miss, standing on the side lines waving signs and shouting, "Come on Claire!" at the top of their voices.  They put a huge smile on my face.

Next up were a couple of miles over Lake Washington bridge.  That bridge seemed to go on foreeeeever, but the view was great and the extra breeze had a nice cooling effect.

It was shortly after we left the bridge and approached the finish line for the first time (only to run right on by, leaving the half marathoners behind) that I started to feel tired.  We were close to the 14 mile point at this stage and with much shorter lines it was time for a bathroom break.  Right after that we bumped into the greatest supporters ever and Dad even ran with me for a little bit.  They really put the bounce back in my step and off we headed north towards Aurora St bridge.

From here, the route led us up onto a highway and then down into a tunnel.  It was a weird break from all the cheering and noise of the city.  I felt like I had gone under water because everything went quiet and I could hear myself breathing.  I realized the legs were beginning to feel heavy.  The next 3 miles north were nearly all uphill.  I dug deep and kept the legs moving.  At Mile 18 (soon after this photo) we turned around and headed back towards the finish again.  Luckily we got to run down that loooong hill we had just run up, but even with that after Mile 20 everything got slower.

At mile 22 I looked up and once again found a big grin on my face when I heard the cheers (though Sean tells me that this time it looked more like a grimace)! I had lost the girls and alone, I was really finding the going tough. By now, I was also consciously ignoring a shooting pain up the front of my right shin.

Mum, Dad and Sean were shouting from an overlook rather than by the street. I was about 4 hours 15 minutes or so in at this point and I really didn't know how much more I had in me. 

Luckily soon after this, I bumped into the 5 hour pacer.  Pacers hold signs with the time in which they intend to run the race.  If you stick with them you're guaranteed to cross the finish line close to that time.  I asked if she would mind if I joined their little group and kept with them to the end.  

The next 4 miles are a blur.  I kept thinking that I wouldn't be able to go any farther and somehow kept managing to keep going.  It was really everything I had, absolutely every little piece of energy and will power and determination I could wrench from my body that went into those last miles.   I crossed the line in 5 hours and 2 minutes.

Immediately after I crossed the line I was handed a bottle of water and a medal.  It was all I could do to hold it together for an official photo.  I hobbled over to the medic tent and managed to blurt out, "I hurt" just as the tears started to flow.  I was led to a seat and someone strapped a bag of ice to my leg and draped a blanket over my shoulders.  Somewhat in a haze, I made my way out of the tent and over to Mum, Dad and Sean.

And that's it.  I did it.  I ran a marathon.  That's the story of my twenty six point two miles.  Well, my first twenty six point two miles anyway...

My First Marathon

I know what you're expecting.  You're expecting to hear about the time I ran twenty six point two miles.  That's a good story but you're going to have to wait for it, because first you have to hear about my journey to Seattle. 

For those of you who know me, you'll know that I'm the organized type.  When travelling with friends in a group, I'm the one who hands printed itineraries to everyone, emails everyone beforehand with a packing list and brings extras in case anyone forgets.  With that context then, you'll understand my absolute horror and shame, when at 8am, 90 minutes before our 9:30am flight, I tried to check in at San Francisco airport, only to be told, "I'm sorry, you should be at San Jose airport."  I had gotten Sean out of bed at 6am that morning; we had driven the 35 minutes north to the WRONG AIRPORT!  "Oh my god, how could I have done this?" was all I could think.  What followed for the rest of the day was a panicked desperate marathon attempt to correct my mistake.

At first I thought we would never make it to San Jose in time for the flight.  We had parked in long term parking and had to get a bus back there and then drive in rush hour traffic back the way we had come.  We tried to get a flight out of San Francisco instead.  This proved to be a big mistake.  We worked with the gate agent to look up all the options.  There were no direct flights left and the option that would get us to Seattle earliest took us via Phoenix, way out of the way.  We would arrive in Seattle at 6pm and it would cost $900.  Yikes!  The gate agent told us that there were more options from San Jose and advised us to drive back down there.

So off we went, back to the long term parking shuttle stop, where we waited 10 minutes for a shuttle.  The driver was in fine form and joked and laughed with us and drove WAY TOO SLOWLY! Thank God for Sean who kept his cool the whole time, hugging me and telling me that, "Of course we'll make it to Seattle.  Sure, we have all day and there will be options from San Jose."  I alternated between quiet horror that I had made this mistake and weeping dread that we would not get to Seattle in time, all the while knowing that I had to conserve my energy if I planned to run twenty six point two miles the next day.  Needless to say, there were a few tears.

We finally made it back to our car.  Sean drove spirit-raising-ly fast and we got to San Jose airport in record time.  At the airport, the woman behind the desk was moved by my desperate pleas for help and called the gate to see if there was any possibility that we could make it.  There were a few wonderful seconds during which my hopes were raised but it turned out that we were just moments too late.  If we had not talked to the gate agent in SFO for so long we would have made it! The next option was to get a standby ticket for a nearly-full flight via Reno.  So be it.

The rest of the day was a flurry of running between gates, hoping really hard that we would get on the flight.  We got the last 2 seats on the first leg, meaning the last available middle seats that no one else wanted because the people on either side were so big that they couldn't put down the arm rests.  In Reno we made a mad dash for the Seattle flight, only to accidentally leave air side and have to go through security again.  We ended up having a 3 hour wait there (enough time to watch some soccer and calm down a little) and then finally got to Seattle at 4pm.  We dashed to the expo and registered, dashed to the hotel and checked in, and dashed to the pasta dinner and caught the last of the motivational speeches. 

I felt like I'd already run a marathon by the time we got back to the hotel room at 7:30pm but really that was all to come the next day...

Alone and Part of a Team

4 days to go.

They say that no one can run the marathon for you. Once you get out there on the road, you're alone and you can only draw upon your own strength to get to the finish line. Each step you take requires your body and brain to be in sync. You have to really WANT it, especially once you get to the 4 hour mark when you've already been running for so long and you still have an hour to go.

But I don't feel alone. Throughout the last six months I have received so much support from my friends and family. I can't tell you how much it has meant to me to get a card or flowers in the post, phone calls and emails from people who have run a marathon before and have good advice to share or IMs and Facebook comments telling me that I CAN do this. I had no idea so many people would follow the blog and be affected enough by my ramblings to reach out to me and lend me their confidence when mine was lacking. It's been the key to my ability to stick with the training. Every time I entertained the idea of quitting, someone would boost me up and provide the motivation I needed to carry on. Thank you so much to all my cheerleaders.


I'd like to share one note with you from a particularly special person to give you a sense of the strength that I'll be leaning on when Saturday rolls around.

You are the most stubborn, independent, strong minded woman I know. There is no one I trust more to reach the finish line. From day 1, this race has been about more than you as you have inspired those around you. I am so proud and awed.

Inspiration must be self reinforcing, because this certainly inspires me.

My parents have come all the way from Ireland, in part to be at the finish line of the marathon and here for me this week leading up to it. Having the chance to share the excitement and anticipation with them is brilliant and makes the whole event really special.

And then of course there is my biggest supporter. The person who has had to put up with lots and lots of non stop excited ramblings about running and in contrast the exhausted, demotivated days when I haven't wanted to talk at all. The person who has tirelessly nodded enthusiastically about pace increases of one or two seconds and who pumped me up with speeches about how I'm just having one bad day and it will all be better tomorrow when I'm sad. He has helped me walk down stairs when my legs nearly give out on Saturday afternoons after long runs and put up with an absent girlfriend on many evenings and weekend mornings. I couldn't have managed this training without Sean and when I really need to draw on someone else's strength on Saturday, I will remember that he will be at the finish line waiting to take care of me and that if I can just make it that far, everything will be OK.

I'm so close now, and I think I'm ready. Waiting has never been a strong point of mine, but if I can just get through the next 4 days with my sanity intact, I believe that I'll get to the finish line of this marathon of mine.

Wish me luck!

Twenty Miles

Yes, that title means what you think it means. I managed to run 20 miles yesterday. I am really quite stunned, to be honest. I wasn't confident that I would be able to do it. Nervous about the impending run I didn't sleep very well on Friday night. My alarm clock went off at 5:15am and it was a welcome break from the restless snoozing of the prior 3 to 4 hours. I must have looked at my clock every 30 minutes from 2am onwards.

I got up, trying not to make any noise and wake Sean. I sneaked downstairs to prepare for the run. With a bowl of oatmeal with raisins in front of me and a waiting cup of coffee, I opened my laptop to get the directions to the run and noticed an email from my coach with advice about improvements to my hydration routine to help prevent a repeat of last week. "Stay off the coffee," he said. I looked longingly at my waiting caffeine fix and sighed. Instead I filled two 3/4 litre (24 oz) bottles, one with water and one with a light Cytomax mix. I would finish both of these before beginning my run at 7am. I also prepared the Cytomax mix for the four 7 oz water bottles on my hydration belt and stored 4 Vanilla flavored GU power gels. I was determined not to 'run out' of energy or water on this long run. Literally.

On the drive to the start the butterflies were fluttering in my tummy and I talked myself through the other advice I had been given. Don't start too fast, take it one mile at a time and just don't give up. I had said various times throughout the week that if I could only make it through this run, if I could just manage 20 miles, I would be confident that I could get to the finish line of the marathon. My failure to run more than 11.5 miles last week really put a dent in my confidence and I needed this run to be a success. A lot of pressure.

I was the first of the runners to arrive at the start. Several coaches were there and one of them reminded me that no headphones are allowed. He wanted to take my phone but thankfully I was able to convince him that I wouldn't be listening to music but instead I wanted to bring it in order to record my run and use the GPS to give me feedback about my pace and distance throughout. I was trying out a new armband (my armband broke on the run from hell last week) and an additional battery pack from Mophie that I'm hoping will mean that my iPhone will last the 5+ hours that it will take for me to run the marathon. I plan to enable the live tracking functionality of the runkeeper app so that those who can't make it to Seattle, but are still interested in seeing how I'm getting on, can follow my progress live online. Let me know if you're interested in following me live and I'll point you to the right page. If you subscribe to my twitter feed, I'll be tweeting right as I begin so you'll know when I get started.

About 7am when a few other fellow Seattle runners had arrived, we got started. We had a short 3 mile out and back followed by a long 17 mile out and back. So the first 3 miles were a warmup of sorts. On the way back to base we bumped into some late starters. Some of the people who had run the San Diego half and full just 6 days before had come out to support us. They turned around and joined us and I had someone to run with for the remaining 17 miles. I can't tell you how much nicer it is to run with friends on long runs than to run alone. Getting through those times when your energy is low and each step requires concentration is much easier when someone is beside you talking you through it or telling you stories from their own life.

We had 2 water stops, one at 4 miles out and one at 7 and a half miles out. The team captains who man the water stops are stellar. They watch out for approaching TNT runners and cheer and clap for the last hundred yards of your run towards them. They celebrate your accomplishment so far, supply water, electrolyte drink and energy foods and then encourage you to keep going. And they wait there all morning long. Yesterday it was really hot where the water stops were placed and there was no shade. Several of the captains had run a marathon themselves last Sunday in San Diego and were probably pretty exhausted and definitely still recovering. They are all volunteers. I really appreciate the support.

The sun was behind us for most of the way out. I followed my shadow and relished the wind coming from the bay. We ran along the water's edge from Redwood City north through Foster City and had fantastic views of the San Francisco skyline and the Bay Bridge. When I reached the turnaround point, 10.5 miles into the run I was still feeling pretty good. And then we turned to face the sun. With no shade and the breeze at our backs, it felt a lot hotter. Soon I found myself needing to walk for a minute every mile or so. I started to think about the visualization techniques I have been trying to cultivate in order to keep going. Omar, my running partner, definitely helped me by alternately helping me to focus on the running, and distracting me with stories. On our second pass of the last water stop, we picked up Rakesh and the three of us hobbled the final 4 miles to the finish line.

When reading about what to expect with the dreaded wall, I think I experienced it in those last 4 miles yesterday. My energy drained, fighting for each step, I think I physically depleted all my carbohydrate energy resources. I was reduced to making energy from fat reserves, which is a much slower process. Psychologically, I had already been running for 3 and a half hours and had been drawing on the self talk and visualization techniques for a long time. It's tough to keep that up and focus on just one mile at a time. On the last mile we rounded one corner after another that I thought was the last and right towards the end I nearly lost it when turning what I was sure must be the last corner, I still didn't see the bridge we had to cross right before the finish line. Only the encouragement from my fellow runners kept the legs moving, the arms pumping and the head up.

In the end we did make it. We jogged up to the applauding coaches and captains with smiles on our faces and a feeling of immense satisfaction. I had made it. I ran 20 miles. http://rnkpr.com/a6n070 And in 2 weeks I will run a marathon.

The Terrible Heat

Sorry for the disruption in posts. I'm just a week back from a vacation in Ireland. I have a great post coming about running there but before that I have to tell you about my run this past Saturday.

The pressure was on. I had just 3 weeks left to my race and I was getting really nervous. I missed one of my long runs while on holiday and with the slow down in focus on running, I was feeling a bit stressed about the whole thing. I decided to run 16 miles on Saturday and 20 miles next weekend, leaving myself 2 weeks for recovery before the big event.

Knowing it was going to be hot, I got up at 5:45am. I took my time with breakfast and preparation and left the house shortly before 7 to start running about 7:20am. The first hour was OK. I wasn't very consistent, starting too fast because of the nerves and giving myself side pains that meant I had to stop and walk to recover. I missed my running partner. Even with the jittery run / walk pace, I managed a fairly respectable 5.5 miles in an hour. An average of 11 minute miles is pretty good for my long runs. But I was nervous. For the last mile I had been pushing very hard. The sun was beating down and there was no shade. When I got home I looked up the weather and it was 85 degrees Fahrenheit (nearly 30 Celsius). The heat hit me like a smack in the face. Despite bringing my hydration belt with four 7 ounce bottles of Cytomax, and drinking consistently, I must have been really dehydrated. Later, when I got home, I weighed myself and realized that I lost 8 lbs during this run - all fluid. (I know because the next day I was back to normal weight).

For the next hour I dragged myself another 4.5 miles. It was one of the longest hours of my life. My runkeeper data shows how I would work myself up to run, put everything I had into it, run too fast to maintain, and then have to walk to recover. I fought so hard for each one of those bursts of energy, intent on being positive, getting myself through. My body just didn't want to run though, every step required gritted teeth and determination. The heat was relentless and about mile 9.5 I decided to call it quits earlier than my intended 16 miles. I walked despondently for a mile, got up the energy to jog for a little bit and then nearly crawled to my car.

It was without a doubt the worst experience running I've had throughout this whole training. Ever in fact. 3 weeks before the marathon.

Now I'm saying that it was the heat. Of course it was the heat. Knowing how dehydrated I was and what the temperature was makes it pretty clear. Seattle won't be that hot and I have managed so much better in the past that I'm writing this off as a one off. Still, I'm rattled. What if after ALL of this, I don't get to the finish line?