Mission: Mostly Accomplished

Three marathons down, countless more to go!

I was able to successfully finish my third marathon, The Marine Corps Marathon, this past Sunday. Aside from a few major issues, the race was perfect.

Let's take a walk down memory lane, shall we?

I had a 1:30 PM flight from Chicago to Dulles on Friday. Due to the poor management skills of SouthWORST, the flight was delayed for over an hour, without so much as an announcement as to why. Unfortunately for many of us, we were left standing without any place to sit for a flight that was overbooked. The longer we stood, the more I could feel my lower back aching and my feet swelling. It was rather painful. It also worried me. I guess it was a good thing that I flew out on Friday as opposed to Saturday!

Saturday was the Expo and it was a ton of fun. I got to Metro-it there with my best friend Stef and check out all the cute Marines. I took pictures of all the cool stuff, but you'll have to wait until I can purchase a new USB cable thingy. One of the nice things that Brooks did was, if you purchase brooks apparel at the official MCM/Brooks store, you were given a voucher to have one item monogrammed for free at the Expo. I thought long and hard about it, then chose to have my new long sleeve technical T monogrammed with my father's phrase "Press on Regardless." Done and done!

We had a nice pasta dinner in Arlington that night with my parents and my friend Stef's parents. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for the calamari, maybe.

At the end of dinner, I bid adieu to my parents, who I would see at points on the course the next day, and headed back to Stef's place to finish adding names to my race day shirt and watch Spirit of the Marathon. Again.

Race day! It was a long walk from the Pentagon Metro stop to the Runner's Village. I think that was a good thing, however, because it was chilly out. Everyone needed to warm up! More cute Marines. The USO also had a station set up with coffee, hot chocolate, and other snacks, as well as a station to sign a large banner for our troops abroad. I availed myself of the hot chocolate, and a nutrigrain bar. After checking my bag (and then going back to my bag for the shot blocks I left in it. Oops), we headed over to the start! It seemed to take forever for the race to start. Two V-22 Ospreys flew overhead at the start. And I mean really close overhead. I also saw Marine 1 at another point.

And best of all, I saw my parents, Stef, and my friend Ezugo, complete with their signs at the start. It really pumped me up. As a last minute decision, I decided I would 8/1 run-walk with my Lakefront Angels, at least for the first half of the race.

Despite having used the toilets prior to the start of the race, I began to feel more and more like I needed to use them again. I supposed that drinking another half liter whilst waiting for the race to start probably wasn't a good idea. Reluctantly, I parted ways with the Lakefront Angels around Mile 11. Things kinda took a turn for the worst around then.

First let me say that, while this was one of the most organized races I've ever been to, there weren't a lot of porto-potties on the course itself. So, I waited for about SEVEN minutes to use the one at mile 11. After I finished, I figured I'd be able to catch up to the girls if I picked up the pace and didn't walk at all. I was feeling great, really strong. Then something started rumbling in my stomach. I began to get worried. The feeling was so strong that I either needed to drop out or find another toilet. Just after mile 15, I found another one, again with a huge line. This time things didn't seem so hopeful. As I ran back onto the course, I prayed that would be the end of the bathroom breaks. I'd already lost nearly 15 minutes because of them.

I saw my cheering section again at mile 16 and was so happy. I gave my dad a big hug and could tell he was just tickled to be there. He pushed me away whilst laughing "go go Go!" I ran off, feeling great.

And then it happened again. The stomach called and I couldn't find a porto-potty. At mile 18 I saw two, with another huge line. The rest of my body felt good to go and I really wanted to keep running until I found another one, but each step I took received a challenge from my digestive system:

You take one more step and I will embarrass the hell out of you. And you've still got 8.2 more miles to go.

Reluctantly, and with a few tears, I stood in line for the toilets. I could see my PR crumbling in the distance. I had been on pace for a sub 4:30 marathon, and had been feeling so strong. The rest of my body wanted me to go on.

I was determined to make this my last visit to the toilets. Even if I'd lost my 4:30 marathon, I would not be shamed into doing worse than the Chicago marathon the year before. So I started to book it. I knew there were 8 more miles, but I also knew that the weekend before I'd ran 7 miles at a 9:40 pace. If I could just delay the fatigue, I'd be okay.

So I powered through miles 18 to 21. Around mile 21, I felt the cramps come again. I didn't know when the next aid station or porto-potties would come. I did, however, see a man standing on the meridian on 66 by the Pentagon wearing a Grim Reaper costume, holding a sign saying "The End is Near". Nice.

Just before mile 22, I saw the porto-potties again. Slightly shorter line this time, but it still took me five minutes. I briefly debated the embarrassment factor of crapping my pants. I was not going to win this race, so the pants-crapping was not worth it. But I still didn't want to stop again. So, I decided that I would have to forgo any more Poweraid or shot blocks for the last four miles. And then I started to run all out. I ignored advice I'd received to not power down the hills because it would shred my quads. I ran all out, as fast as I could. I heard Marine announcing the time and I wondered whether they'd adjusted it, or if it was the clock time.

Two Lakefront Angels jumped in with me before I hit mile 26. They picked up the pace, and so did I. Just before I hit the 26 mile marker, they jumped out and I ran up a hill. They're not kidding in the least when they tell you the last .2 is all up hill. People were crawling at that point. I sprinted as hard and fast as I could. I didn't know what time it was, I just ran.

According to Garmin, I finished in 4:35:07. I knew this wasn't accurate because Garmin was set to auto-pause. Each time I stopped for the toilets, Garmin stopped. I decided to think positively about it. Now I knew that I could run a sub-4:30 marathon, barring stomach problems of course. It's not the same as an official 4:30, I know, but there's hope for me yet. I started plotting for next year's marathon.

Today, I checked the MCM page for the official results. I dreaded the moment, but I knew I had to know my "real" time.

4:58:07 Even with the four bathroom breaks, I finished under 5 hours! And with an 8 minute PR nearly! I said a prayer of thanks and started dreaming of my next race. The possibilities are endless...