But now to the marathon.
At the airport before my mid-afternoon flight to Phoenix, I started noticing people with "running gear." Basically, the "tribe" of athletes tends to wear their accomplishments. Literally. For example, a couple of ladies with Ironman backpacks and jackets gave me the impression that they were participating in Sunday's event. I asked them anyway, "Will you guys be racing on Sunday?" They looked at me, gave a reluctant look, and said, "well…yes…but I don't know if you can call what we do 'racing'." I chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, racing…as it were, right?" They laughed in agreement. As it turns out there were many fellow runners and their companions on my flight. More on the tribe in a future post, but it was refreshing to know that these perfect strangers had something in common with me. I wasn't alone.
Now, I've never been to Phoenix. It is really flat. This is a welcome sight as the marathon start loomed closer. Flat is good! I enjoyed Phoenix, but I'm not sure I didn't walk into Stepford. Everyone was super friendly, which I think comes from living in a sunny environment year round. I didn't quite know where I was going, and finding my hotel was interesting. Here I am with a rental car -- a Ford Festiva, which I could park in my back pocket -- driving out to the Arizona Biltmore. This Frank Lloyd Wright icon was a race sponsor and offered heavily discounted rates. However, this is a really. Fancy. Hotel. As I pulled up to the front, the valets were parking Jaguars, Porches, and Bentleys. Here I come in my little Festiva! I felt like I would have insulted the valets if I asked them to park my car.
Well, my first room was just above the lobby…and the bar…where there was live music until 11 every night. Yes, I asked for a different room. Overall, it's a great place, but if you ever go be prepared to spend $5 on mediocre coffee (not a latte, just regular coffee), and another $5 on day old blueberry muffins.
Saturday morning, I made my way to the Phoenix Convention Center and the health and fitness expo to pick up my race packet. In the process of all of this, I was keeping an eye on my friends' flight from Denver. I would be joined at the start line the next day by Mark and Sarah Richardson. This fact alone makes this race memorable for me.
At the Expo, I wandered through the Brooks (sponsor) store, and saw a couple of great mirrors*:
*finisher pics to come
The Expo is a great place to get free stuff and great information. For example, the American Dairy Association has a fitness related ad campaign targeting athletes called "got chocolate milk?" I bought myself a great run belt that carries GU packets like a bandolier carries bullets…"wha-bam!" I felt like ninja-thoner. Then I found Run Disney. Remember my bucket list? The Dopey Challenge? Well, I found out when I can sign up for the 2015 race series, got a great bag, and got on their mailing list. Because I am that crazy, I am already looking at the 2015 race series. All over the expo I saw M-Dot gear and tattoos. Of course, I was no exception…I wear my Boulder 70.3 jacket with pride. Several people engaged me in conversation about not only my past races, but the upcoming IM Boulder. It's exciting to know this event is creating a buzz throughout the racing community! I still stand in awe of anyone who has completed a 140.6.
Once the Expo got crowded, I left and found a spot to go through my swag bag. I found a coupon for Corner Bakery, where I went to have lunch while I waited for Mark and Sarah. It was great to see them, and we developed a plan for shuttling cars between the start and finish lines (which were in two separate places). I explained to them that I am horrendously slow (both of these guys can qualify for Boston), and that they would be waiting at the finish line a loooong time. We parted ways that afternoon for relaxation and an early dinner.
Most of my time at the hotel was spent sitting around either in the pool, on the grounds, or in my room. I did little else but sit and watch a lot of TV…and that's when I noticed a tickle in my throat. When that happens before a race, I chalk it up to psychosomatic reaction to fear and stress, but all the same, I just go to bed.
Race morning. My friend Mark Mulligan -- training partner and mentor -- woke me up with a phone call and some inspirational words. The most poignant, "Don't quit." Not that I would have, but those words would come back later in the day. I walked down for my $10 breakfast of coffee and muffins and readied myself for a long morning. I met up with Mark and Sarah before the race, then found my corral. The corrals are roped off sections based on what you think your finish time might be, so people aren't dodging around other runners all morning long.
The start corral was one of my favorite moments of the day. It's tense, and people are nervous (including me). A few of us are joking around, then it got really quiet for a minute or so. To break the tension and get at least myself to loosen up, I screamed, "GHA! WHAT AM I DOING HERE!?!?!" Everyone around me laughed. A couple of minutes later, I looked at the woman standing next to me and asked, "How far is this race?" Without missing a beat, she answered, "5k." Finally, about a minute before my wave started, we were walking up to the start line, and I said aloud, "If you see me collapse, pause my Garmin." I don't know if any of that helped people have more fun, but it helped me…
Along the race course there are really funny signs to keep you going…it's also fun to read some of the t-shirts, too:
"Because 26.3 miles would just be CRAZY!" t-shirt
"We are so proud of you random stranger!"sign
"If it were easy, I would do it." sign
"This seemed like a good idea 6 months ago." sign
And the more adult sign…"Now is NOT the time to trust a fart."I was chuckling about that one the whole race.
I set a goal of finishing in 4 hours and 45 minutes (Boston Qualifies under 4 hours, just as a reference). I had a great taper, and felt good at the start, keeping and maintaining a pace that would bring me in around 4:35. Long story short, I ran every mile of that marathon, stopping only to walk through the water stations. Mile 20 came and went, and I was in uncharted territory. I'd never run that far before, but I still felt great so I maintained my pace. Then at mile 23 the course turned left into Tempe. Remember how I said Phoenix is flat? Well, Tempe isn't. That left turn pointed us uphill and into the wind. Everyone around me stopped to walk. I would not. The wind and the hills at the end of the race made the last three miles awful. Whatever pace I had going was shot, but I kept running. Mark's words from this morning floated up…"Don't quit." Nope. I had come too far, and worked too hard to quit now. It may not have been pretty, but I didn't care. My form fell apart, and I was hunched over in obvious discomfort (it wasn't pain, yet). The onlookers toward the finish line were telling me, "Just over the bridge! You are almost there!" Then I saw the bridge. It was the longest bridge I had ever seen. When I finally made it across the bridge I went as fast as my tired quads would carry me, and screamed with joy as I tumbled down the hill to the finish. They gave me the heaviest medal I have ever felt.
Mark and Sarah were waiting at the finish line…a sight for sore eyes! Everything was kind of a blur after that. I found Chocolate milk, water and ice…then the portapotty. I skipped the post race beer (we get a free one, but that did not sound good at the moment), then Mark, Sarah and their friend Laura all took me back to the start line where I parked my car. My quads were screaming. Luckily, I had the foresight to schedule a sports massage at the hotel that afternoon.
The rest of the trip I was in a daze. The massage helped me recover, as did lots of rest. Sitting on the plane was fine, but getting up hurt a lot. When I got home on Monday, I parked my butt on my couch. Tuesday, I literally could not walk down my stairs without using the bannister to support most of my weight. Every time I had to go to the bathroom, I would ask myself, "how badly do I really have to go?" because sitting down and standing up was nearly impossible.
In the end, I finished, with a time of 4 hours, 44 minutes, 40 seconds. I beat my goal time. Will I do another one? Yes. It was so much fun! I worked my tail off for this. I got the t-shirt, the medal, and the right to put a 26.2 sticker on my car.
This event gave me the confidence I need for Ironman Boulder, because really, this was a training race for August. I needed to know I could travel 26.2 miles on my legs in a matter of hours. I learned a lot during this race that I can not only apply to Boulder's event this year, but also to my daily training routine. I trained well for this race. Whatever I did, I did it right.
My friend and training partner, Mark, sent me a congratulatory card after the event. The cover of the card reads, "'You're not obligated to win. You're obligated to keep trying to do the best you can every day.' -- Marian Wright Edelman" This sentiment articulates the attitude I take into every workout and race. It just says it well. Because that is really what it is about. Like the ladies at the airport…they weren't there to win, but they were there to see how well they could do. Like them, I compete against myself. I am not a fast runner, but I am a runner. Crossing that finish line is proof of something I already knew about myself…
I can do anything, if I want it badly enough.
