Notice how I titled it "My First Marathon", as in, yep, I'm pretty sure this waddling duck, with toes that ache, might just do this again! Now where do I start?
I've always been a runner, whether I like it or not. My parents forced me to participate in sports, and pretty much the only one where you didn't get cut, for lack of athleticism, was track and cross country. I can't tell you how much I hated this, HATED it. I proved to my parents over and over just how much I disliked running by continuously dropping out of races. I'll show them! Ha! Really, I was just embarrassing myself, but at the time I was more interested in boys and partying. Oh, high school. After HS I always ran a little as a stress reliever. I have a favorite 4 mile run, that goes from the house I grew up in, up Deer Creek Road, to the pavement and back. I kind of wish I knew how many times I've ran that. Then again, maybe not. I've always dabbled in the running a little.
I guess I'll give you a little background on how I even ended up running 26.2 miles (this is the traditional marathon distance). It all started back in January of 2009, when I took snowboarding lessons up at Snowbowl and the only other person in my group, the "intermediate" level, was Christy. Actually, the only reason she was in intermediate was because I talked her into it the first day, too afraid to take lessons solo for some reason, but she took the bait and we became fast friends. I know you are shocked that I can make a friend so quickly. Turns out Christy was a triathlete, (she forgot to mention that she's an AMAZING triathlete) which was so great because I had an interest in triathlons, and she mentioned the local running group, Run Wild, and told me I should try it. So I did. I'm telling you, I could be talked into doing just about anything, as long as you attach "it's so much fun" to it. I'm addicted to fun, and today I realized that I might just be an "adrenaline junky". Who me? Yep, that's right. Who doesn't like things that are fun and make you feel good? Crazy people, that's who.
That February, I started the marathon training group. The boss man, Anders Brooker, who's in charge of the whole show, has us broken up between marathon and half marathoners. I decided that the marathon was completely out of my league, so I opted for the half. There is a four and a half month running program that you do, you follow a calendar and build up your mileage, it's actually very simple. In the beginning of training the farthest I had ever ran was maybe 7 miles, so the idea of even 13 seemed to be a bit of a stretch, but the running scheduel kept me on track. I finished my first half marathon that June, in a fit of tears because of a whole slew of things that went wrong, but I was determined to do better the next year. And I did.
I decided to be one of the few hundred crazies to run the Snow Joke Half Marathon that following February. With temperatures dropping down below freezing, it's definitely not for the feint of heart. What I love about this race is that I can bring Shelby with me, she is, by far, my most loyal running partner (sorry Lynn, you moved!). My friend Mary and her dog Barley ran it too, but she's fast like a bunny and finished way ahead of me, but it's never really a race where you are competing with anyone, it's more competition with yourself then anything, at least for me. It was a good race and lifted my spirits a little. I was still on the path to finish the Missoula Half Marathon with a smile on my face. Training starts about the same time as the Snow Joke, so in 2010 I was ahead of the game. That June, the half marathon went WAY better. I didn't set a PR (Personal Record) or anything, but I finished without crying, and I felt good about the race.
This is the part where I decide to do something absolutely crazy. My friends and I signed up for the Blue Mountain 30k, which is an 18 mile race up to the top of a mountain in the Blue Mountain trail area. There is an incline of 3600 feet and you drop that much in elevation on your way down. Sound a little intense? It was. We kind of half ass trained and I ended up coming in dead last. If you go to the website, it will say that I came in second, but really, Sam was only back there because she was being a good friend. Mary managed to kick both our asses by over an hour, once again, fast like a little rabbit, that girl. I'm not even bothered that I finished last, because they only allow 100 people in the race. Realistically, if it had been an unlimited amount of entries, maybe I would have been near the back, but I doubt I would have been last. Either way, it was one of the most humbling experiences I've ever had. Everyone should come in last at least once in their life.
So that was October, 2010. Around November, my sister and I decide to start taking the Snow Joke seriously and started to train a little. This year, on the day of the run, late February, the temperatures dropped to 3 below zero in Seeley, where the run was held. I'm not kidding. I can't tell you how many people I've talked to who said it was too cold and that's why they weren't there. Really? That's funny, because they didn't cancel the run, I still did it. I find myself enjoying cold weather runs the best. It's all in the layers and you can always take them off, which is why I like to run with a small backpack, sounds a little weird, I know, but I can carry allot of shit in there, from water, dog treats, a leash, to my yack tracks, gloves, you name it, I've probably carried it in there (running related, people). Another great half marathon. Felt absolutely AMAZING, although my sister just couldn't let me beat her. I was totally ahead too, but in the end, her competitive side came out and she passed me. Shelby at least beat my sister, and I beat Macgyver (my sister's dog), so I wasn't completely defeated.
This was the end of February, also about a month into my divorce. I was really utilizing running as a way to untie the metaphorical knots in my stomach. I can't tell you how many times I would feel like giving up on life and I'd go for a run, instantly feeling better, calmer, like I could make it through this hard point in my life. When I'm having a bad day, if I can conjure up the willpower to run, I always, ALWAYS feel better. Eric actually picked up on this pretty quick & is usually the first one to tell me that I need to go running. lol He's always right.
I figured, with all the running I was already doing, why not train for the full marathon? What's the WORST that could happen? I guess that being said, the worst that could happen is that running could quite possibly take over my life, which it did, for months and months and months, leading up to today. It has been a great tool for me when it comes with coping with my emotions through all the life changing things I've been dealing with, and I will forever be grateful that I found my way back to something that I use to associate pain to... You did something right, mom and dad.
So, today was the big day. I had to go to bed as early as humanly possible last night, which turned out to be 9:30 for me, I had managed to take an accidental nap that afternoon, which left me a little restless at my planned 8 pm bedtime. As usual, it took me probably an hour to fall asleep, only to be rudely awakened by my alarm at 3:45 this morning. I literally jumped out of bed. I don't know if I was excited or if it had just dawned on me that I had left my dog outside all freaking night, but one of those two things woke me right up. Poor Shelby. She didn't look too happy when she wandered in, I'm sure she tried to get my attention for part of the night, but I had my earplugs in and couldn't hear anything. She probably didn't sleep a wink and sat on the deck shaking in fear. She does that, she's only tough when she's indoors, poor baby.
I let Shelbers in, turned on the coffee pot, jumped in the shower to wake up, grabbed my pre-run meal, which is two pieces of toast with half a cup of coffee, and head out the door by 4:05. I know the meal sounds a little lacking, but I seriously cannot eat heavy before a run. Ask my sister, she witnessed me try to quit Bloomsday last year, which is only 8 miles, after eating a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, cheese, hash browns and toast. She might be able to do that, but I cannot, so toast it is, sometimes yogurt or a piece of fruit, that's IT! I stopped at Sam's house to throw some gear in the back of the truck, I had a strategic game plan on how I was going to get through this run, and was on the bus headed to Frenchtown by 4:30.
The race started at 6 am. Just in time to see the Montana summer sun peak over Mount Sentinel, it was a beautiful view, but cold! I started the race with frozen hands, but it warmed up pretty quick. Right off the bat, I had to pee. Really bladder? Did you not go three times when you were waiting to start the race? I didn't stop at the porta potties once, I stopped twice! Boooooo! The lines weren't long, so I doubt it really affected my time, but we will say that it did by a few minutes, just to make me feel better.
And so it began. After the second pee stop, I caught up with the 4:45 pacer dude, where my friend Miranda was. She was smart to stick with a pacer. I've been told several times that that is the best way to "pace yourself" when you are running a marathon for the first time, hence the title "pacer". It was mildly entertaining listening to our pacer, he had some stories to tell, like how his group of friends that he runs with like to travel "Montana style" to races out of state/country and always pack a pair of inflatable sex sheep. Of course these sheep are always with them when they cross every finish line. How this is "Montana", I have no idea, but I kind of think it makes us look like a bunch of rednecks, and maybe we are and I just don't see it that way. My sister, from Compton, told me that I could refer to myself as "gangster" if I wanted, and I think I would prefer that over "redneck hillbilly with a sex sheep". I did joke with the pacer that if I were to carry one of the sheep across the finish line, I'd scream, "I'm a virgin!", of course referring to being a "marathon virgin", get your minds out of the gutter people.
It was good to run with the pacer, and I probably should have stayed there, but around mile 14, after the one and only hill, which was a bit treacherous, it felt good to fly downhill and I got caught up in running a little faster then I should have. I ran with a girl, Kara, that Miranda and I had met, who was running alone. I'm a big fan of finding people to chat with during my run. I don't like the silence and I had planned on not listening to music until at least the last ten miles. My sister showed up on her bike right past Buckhouse Bridge, around mile 16. This is where we made our "gear exchange", I took off my camelbak pack and traded it for a lighter belt that went around my waist, holding a water bottle, my gels and my ipod. I later abandoned the whole belt and carried my water bottle, my back had started hurting, so I figured the less strain on it the better.
The greatest part about Sam showing up, was the shirt she was wearing. It said, "My sister is running a marathon today, what's yours doing?", she had made shirts for my whole family to wear and it nearly brought me to tears, but I kept it together (for once in my life...). She stayed with me for awhile, until she met up with our parents and Shad about a mile and a half down the road. I guess there was a little confusion at this point, after I passed, my mom told my brother to head to the car and the next thing she knew he was in the middle of the runners, following me, and he almost caught up, before my sister called him back out of the race. lol Little did he know he had 8 miles to run if he caught me. The volunteers even handed him water. lol Ahhhh, Shad.
It was mile 20 where it hit me. The pain. In the training we did, the farthest I ran was 20 miles, so I don't know if it was a mental barrier, or maybe I was running too fast, but the pain started to set in, a cramping, shin splint, I want to walk, pain. Somehow I pushed through, one mile at a time. At this point, all I could think about was the orange wedges I would be getting at mile 23. HEAVEN & exactly the sugary energy I needed to get through the rest of the race in one piece. And I got there, to the oranges that is...... and to the finish line eventually. By mile 23, my pace had dropped down significantly and the 445 pacer group eventually passed me, but I finished just a few minutes behind them, happy as a clam to be done. I've done it.
This was a goal I set out to do, and I think it as a metaphor to what my life is becoming. I'm beginning to do the things that make me happy because that's what life is all about. When I overcome each obstacle in my life, I'm becoming more and more the person I want to be. As long as I reach for the sky, my dreams will eventually become reality.
I've already signed up for the Blue Mountain 30k, my friend Mandy wants to make our goal to get done under 4 hours, that's quite the difference from last year. My ultimate goal is to not come in last......
