And I'm not sure I want to do it again.
It's not because I was in pain or because the course was unusually difficult and hilly, but I just don't think it's my distance. I am proud that I can cross this off my bucket list. I'm proud that I did it to raise money for the American Cancer Society and I know those I ran in honor and/or memory of would be proud, too.
Right now, I'm 76 percent to my goal of raising $3,000 to fight cancer. There's still time to hit that $3,000 mark so if you want to congratulate me by making a $26.20 donation (or even better, a $262 donation), you can do that here.
Now, I don't want to go on and on about my marathon experience (because I could probably write a short story about it), but I will say that I learned a lot about myself on this journey.
I got to know the limits of my body and how far I could push it. I learned that I hate inclines more than anything else I've encountered with running and I learned that life could throw me many curveballs (like the failure of not one, but two mp3 players and nature calling around mile 9) but it won't stop me from accomplishing my goals.
The most interesting part about running the Naperville Marathon was the things I saw along the way.
I started out running with a group. We were keeping a great pace. Around Mile 6, some runners jumped out and told us all to move to the left side of the path. There was a runner down. He was convulsing and the women were trying to give him medical attention. It turns out those women saved his life. Then he wanted to finish the race. Some people are very dedicated (crazy). You can read that story here.
I kept things fun by apparently being a giant nerd whenever there was a camera. You can see the evidence here.
Just before the half, I had to stop and loosen my shoelaces. Upon doing so, my shoe tag fell off. It might not seem like a lot, but having to stop long enough to put a shoe tag back on really messes with momentum. So, I lost my group and accepted that I wouldn't finish in the timeframe I'd hoped.
No biggie, I really just wanted to finish.
What I didn't expect was a consistent, gradual incline accompanied by two hills and a barren forest preserve on the back end of the route. I apparently suck at reading elevation maps because I was NOT prepared for that.
When I entered the forest preserve, (after taking on the first hill) I had to stop to take a rock out of my shoe. A very tall, bearded runner wearing a kilt asked if I was OK. I said I was fine and asked if I could stick with him for a while. We chatted about life and got to know each other while alternating walking and running (his calf was hurting him and I had quite a bit of pain in my quads) before parting ways just before mile 20.
I stopped to stretch my legs and call my mom. I told her I was OK, but she would probably have to go check out of the hotel. They had extended our check out, but I was worried I would be cutting it too close.
I grabbed some Gatorade and water and prepared for the second, steeper incline. I knew I would be alone, but I didn't know I would be ALONE. There was nobody in the preserve. No spectators, no visibility beyond the trees. Nothing. Just me and the path.
Wait, that isn't entirely true. There were two girls in what felt like a 4 mile stretch with funny signs and a box of tissues. They were wonderful.
Shortly after seeing them I came upon another runner.
"How much longer are we going to be in here?" she asked.
"I don't even know where we are ..." I said.
I can't remember if I asked to keep up with her or she asked to keep up with me but she saved me. If I had to finish the rest of the race by myself, I probably would have fallen into a dark place. Upset at myself for walking so much, cursing myself for not preparing enough.
Instead, we joined forces and cursed the route and lack of hill training. We got to know each other. It turns out, she is a DetermiNation runner who took some time off from fundraising this year.
We shared stories of our grandparents who died from cancer and I realized all that pain and annoyance happened for a reason. I was meant to meet her and we were meant to finish this difficult race together.
In all the excitement of the finish, I lost her and was unable to swap info, but I plan to look up her bib number and connect with her on social media. If not for her and my mom and aunts waiting for me at the finish line, I might have just sat down and waited for the little cart to come get me. Defeated and upset. Alone in the wilderness and lost.
But that didn't happen. I kept pushing and I learned that even in a solo sport, teamwork will still get you across that finish line - especially when you don't realize you're part of the team.
Coming down the hill, where the finish was waiting just around the corner, I saw the happy faces of Jeff and Megan - so excited and motivating. I sprinted to the finish. Then I wanted to throw up. But I didn't.
Official time: 5 hours, 50 minutes and 57 seconds.
Congratulations!
ReplyDelete