Quitting was not an option — Race Report

Wow... Where do I start? Summing up this experience is a difficult task. There are so many moments that I want to capture, feelings that I want to describe, challenges that I want to explain, and victories that I want to celebrate. This race was the culmination of many, many months of training and hard work. It was the thing that got me out of bed day after day to put in miles before the sun was up. And now... it's done. I am a finisher. I have a medal and a t-shirt. And a story to tell.


Pre-Race: I won't bore you with the details of "re-capping" my training. Most of you have been part of that journey. I'll just summarize by saying that I came into this race in the best shape of my life. I spent 38 weeks training to get to this race, and I was tuned and ready to rock. I had run a great twenty miler, and while taper madness did make me go a little insane, I was still pretty confident that I was READY.


The day before: I slept really well on Friday night, and woke up feeling very calm and confident. My parents arrived around 10:00 a.m. and we headed to the race expo shortly after. It was ridiculously hot outside and I was just hoping that things would cool down before the next day. The expo was amazing and yet completely overwhelming at the same time. I got my bib and chip and clung to my bag like my life depended on it. We wandered around somewhat aimlessly for awhile and I found myself wishing that I could come back when I wasn't feeling so distracted by the upcoming race. There were some really cool products and great deals, but all I could think about was getting home and being able to relax and get focused. I did spend some time in the official TCM booth trying to pick out a shirt. My parents were there and my dad claimed that as my "sponsor" he needed to at least get me a shirt. :D I have the most amazing parents and husband... I'll just say that now, although I might repeat it again a couple times. Anyways, I finally picked out a really nice Brooks hooded running shirt that has the marathon logo on the front. After the expo, we headed home. My dad and Zack went to Cabela's to shop for gear for the upcoming deer hunting season... and I stayed home with my mom. I spent about an hour going through old threads on the forum and reading portions of Hal's Marathon book. I took a few pages of notes on exactly what I was going to do between then and the race start. Lunch was with my mom at Romano's Macaroni Grill, then we did a small amount of shopping (although I spent the entire time paranoid about being on my feet). Later in the day I took a nap and packed up my race gear. Then, it was early to bed, with alarms set for 4:45 a.m. I slept very fitfully throughout the night. I woke up at 1:30 completely convinced that it must be getting close to 5 a.m. Fell back asleep and then woke up again at 2:30. When the alarm went off at 4:45, I was wide awake and full of nerves.


Race Morning: At 5:00 a.m., I sat in my dark dining room eating a burned pop-tart and wondering what the heck I was getting myself into. My stomach felt like jelly and I wondered where the cool, calm, and collected "me" had gone to. A hot shower seemed to calm me down. Then I dressed in some old running clothes and went out for a short "warm-up" jog to test the weather and my legs. Warm-up, alright... I was sweating within a couple minutes of easy running down the block. At 6:00 a.m. it was 73˚ with 80% humidity. Yuck. But despite the heat, I was encouraged that my legs were feeling strong and smooth. Back home I dressed in my race outfit, grabbed all my gear and got in the car to head over to the Metrodome. I was dropped off at about 6:30 a.m. and I made my way inside. The first bathroom I passed appeared to have a line a mile long, so I kept walking around the dome. Soon, I found another bathroom with no line! Amazing. Real, clean, flushing toilets and no line! After the first (of many) potty breaks, I wandered into the "dome" part and found a very quiet, dark and calm retreat from the noise and chaos out in the halls. I found a spot to myself and started to stretch. I had a pounding headache too, so I spent some time just sitting with my head in my hands trying to relax. I took several more trips to the bathroom (still with no line), and finally at 7:30, I went to Gate C to try to meet up with Donna. I waited around for awhile and watched for her, but it was a very busy entrance, and I never found her. Sooo.... I went to the bathroom again. Ha! Then I checked my gear and headed towards the starting line. On the way, I noticed some porta potties, with a line that didn't seem too long..... well.... another bathroom break wouldn't hurt. It was about quarter to eight, and I figured I had time. While waiting in line, I saw "Sven Sundgaard", one of the local weathermen in the twin cities who was racing this year. (Click here to read his blog with a detailed recap of the race day weather and the tough conditions). A celebrity walked right by me! (I saw Sven again later in the race... but I'll get to that in due time). I finally made my way to the start corral and was in line by about eight minutes to 8. It was SO packed that I was way behind even the 5:30 pace sign and there was no chance of me moving up through the wall of people. Oh well, I figured that people would sort themselves out and a slow start wouldn't hurt me. As I stood there waiting for the gun to go off, I had goosebumps on my arms... not because I was cold (I was sweating and the race hadn't even started), but because it was a surreal moment.... standing there and hearing the national anthem being sung while helicopters hovered overhead and the buzz of anticipation hummed around me. My heart was pounding and I felt so alive... right on the brink of something big. As the first wave went off and we started to inch forward, I moved to the side of the corral and finally ditched my water bottle that I had been sipping from while in the start chute. The starting line was in view now. I moved toward it and began to break into a run; a million thoughts flashed through my head. I heard myself say, "Oh my gosh... here we go... this is it!". Then I crossed the line and started my watch.


The Race: All that I could think as I ran through downtown Minneapolis is, "Keep it slow... don't start too fast." We cruised along 6th Avenue, through a tunnel (where all the runners screamed and hollered and cheered), and around a bend before hitting the 1 mile mark. My Garmin must have gotten screwed up by the tall buildings or something, because it only said .9 miles. Oh well, the time told me that I was cruising along a little too quickly and that I should back off the pace even more. I felt things out for the second mile; spent time trying to determine how the heat was going to affect my race. My legs felt good, but a little tight... I was warm, but so far not doing too bad. We went by the Basilica and then under the highway and up a hill by the Walker Art Center. Running through downtown had been unique, but I was glad to be getting into the neighborhoods and out of the sun. Nearing two miles, I started to feel pretty warm, and I began to reformulate my race plan. First alteration... drink at every aid station. The first was coming up at 2.5 miles. I was thirsty and ready for some water by the time we hit it. The first few tables were empty and the volunteers urged us on saying that more water was ahead. We kept going... a thirsty mass of runners in search of water. In the middle of the aid station, finally some water... but no cups. I grabbed a seemingly clean cup off the ground and shoved it towards the kid who was pouring water into the hands of runners. It tasted good and I felt strong as I left the first aid station, but I was well aware that it had taken some extra time to fight through the mob for that one small cup of water. I wondered what lay ahead at the later aid stations.

I hit the lap button at the 3 mile mark, hoping that I could get a better idea of how my splits were looking. The 5K mark approached and I checked my time... I was still in the range that I wanted to start at, but I was beginning to wonder if in another three miles I was going to be able to kick it up a notch. A couple miles went by and I noted several pace bands ripped off and laying on the ground... obvious signs that people's hopes of PRs were falling by the wayside. At the 5 mile aid station, I took my first GU, and I dowsed my head with water. We were by the lakes now, and I was appreciative of the breeze. But the sun was starting to beat down harder and hotter. As I came around Lake Calhoun, I began to see the carnage, and my race plan quickly began to change. Only 6 miles into the race, I noticed several runners hunched over on the side of the course with EMTs surrounding them, others were walking already.

I had run a slow, easy first six miles, according to my original plan, but it was clear that I was not going to be able to kick it into high gear and hold a sub-ten pace for the rest of the race. I knew at that point that if I wanted to finish, I was going to have to start pacing myself now and not wait until I completely ran out of fuel. I did not want to be one of the people laying on the side of the course. My only thought was of the finish line. I knew that I could make it there. Twenty miles seemed like a long ways, but one mile didn't seem too bad... and that was all that was separating me from the next aid station. So I began the game... one mile at a time. At each mile, I started to look forward to the next. I would celebrate by taking ten seconds to walk by the mile marker sign or through the aid station. I never let myself think that I wouldn't finish.

My parents and Zack were waiting at about 7.5 miles and I ran by feeling strong and good, albeit drenched with sweat. I gave a big thumbs up and soaked in the cheers as I continued along the edge of Lake Harriet. I was on familiar ground, having covered this territory during my twenty mile run. And yet I barely noticed anything around me. I was focused on covering the next mile. We soon turned away from the Lake and onto Minnehaha Parkway. This stretch was a blur to me. I remember coming up on the first sprinkler and running through it praising God for some relief. I remember seeing people with big bowls and hoping that they would be full of ice, only being disappointed to find hard candy instead. I took a GU at mile 9 and downed it with water. The sun was really hot along this stretch, and I remember staring at Minnehaha Creek wishing that I could go lay down in the water. I came up along a guy who was walking on the side and was visibly struggling... I slowed down and asked him if he was okay and it there was anything I could do to help. I offered a GU, but he said that he would be alright. So I moved on.

At this point in the race I was running about even with or ahead of the 5 hour pace group. I would pass them and then they would pass me. I had already determined that they were not running even splits, but who could blame them really? Neither was I. I wanted to stay ahead of them, but as I neared Lake Nokomis, and a long stretch of hot sunny, open road, I began to see the bobbing balloons disappearing ahead of me. I thought perhaps I would see them later, but I never saw them again (although I did see one of the pace leaders walking at about mile 17). I let them go and focused on my own race. As I rounded the lake, I saw a photographer ahead and made sure that I looked strong and fast, even though I felt any but strong or fast at that point. I was desperate for a drink, and the aid station at mile 13.1 was long overdue... I think it must have been at least a quarter mile late. So far all the aid stations had all been pretty chaotic, but I had managed to get out with some water and even sometimes enough to dump over my head or down my back. I was completely soaked from the sprinklers I had been running through, and I could tell by the half-way mark that my feet were wet. I felt like I was running in squishy shoes. My toe started to hurt and I was positive that I had a blister developing... the first I would get in the past year of training.

After Lake Nokomis and the half-way mark, we were back on Minnehaha Parkway again. It was in this portion of the race that I felt myself starting to get dragged down... people around me were talking about dropping out, the sun was hotter than ever, and the finish line seemed a long ways away. And yet, I reminded myself that less lay ahead than behind. I never stopped going forward... I never stopped to stretch or rest... I kept moving... even if I was walking... I was going forward. I ran on the yellow line in the middle of the road. One foot in front of the other... on and on. By this point in the race, I had seen it all... several ambulances had passed by with sirens blaring; runners were getting put on stretchers; the EMTs were riding along with us on bikes and checking on those who were struggling; there were people laying on the side of the course with crowds gathered around. And as I worked to focus and get to the next mile, I glanced around at the crowd... I let their cheers carry me. And then I saw a familiar face... Lisa, a woman from my swimming group was on the corner of the street cheering like crazy... I locked on to her face with my eyes and called out "Lisa!!". She saw me and yelled and cheered like crazy and high-fived me as I passed. It was just what I needed at that point. I kept that it my head as I ran for mile 15.

I had skipped the GU at mile 13, simply because I knew that my stomach was in no shape to handle it. So somewhere between 14 and 16 I pulled out the Sharkies and ate a few. The heat was sweltering at this point, but my spirits were high and I knew that in only a couple miles I was going to see my parents and Zack again. So on I went. Before I knew it, I was coming into Minnehaha Park and under the Paul Bunyan arch. The aid station ahead was a welcome break and I remember that there was plenty of water and I didn't have to "fight" for it this time. Soon I was on the River Road and I was more confident than ever that I was going to finish this thing. Time didn't matter anymore. I knew that I was going to come in under six, and I even was entertaining thoughts that I might beat 5. My pace felt like it was all over the place, but I made sure that I was running more than walking and I still was putting down some "okay" miles.

Something I have not mentioned thus far is the entertainment along the course. Let me just say that it was really amazing. There were so many bands... from mariachi's to dixie land bands, to rock bands, drum circles, blue grass... they had it all! At times, the music was way loud and just plain distracting, but sometimes it was the little boost that I needed. Also, the crowd support was fantastic. Allot of people had radios blasting with songs like "Eye of the Tiger". There were official cheer zones and plenty of sprinklers. Little kids were handing out tiny cups of water... We ran under a big balloon arch and through a field of flamingos. One guy stood on top of a table wearing a huge hat and mittens clapping and cheering us on (and saying, "Brrr.... isn't it cold out here?" I wasn't convinced, but it was entertaining). People called out my number and cheered for ME (I wish I would have written my name on my arm too... next time I guess). I am sure that I looked like something that the dog dragged in... soaking wet from head to toe, straggling along... and yet, hearing "You look great! Keep it up runner!" Wow, thank you to anyone who has ever spent the afternoon supporting and cheering and encouraging those on the course. You have no idea how much of a difference you made.

Anyways, back to the race. I remember nearing the sixteen mile mark and thinking "Only ten to go". And I meant it... 10 didn't seem so bad. I was sore and tired and my toe was hurting (I kept looking at my shoe expecting to see blood), but I still had fuel and determination left in me. The carnage was heavy at this point, and I came up on a runner throwing up on the side of the road. I barely held my own cookies and kept running. At about 16.75, I found my parents and Zack and was SO happy to see them! My mom offered me a bottle of water and I took a couple sips and doused the rest on my head. I told them that I was going to finish but that I was running conservatively and slow. (Amazingly enough they still seemed to be proud of me). Zack jogged along for a few seconds and we talked. I think I was rambling a bunch of stuff to him when I heard someone say my name, I turned and looked and there was Donna. I bid Zack goodbye and marveled at the fact that we had found each other. We lamented on what a tough race it had been so far. I told her that I had been pacing myself slow from the start and was still focused on getting to the finish line. We ran and walked together for awhile and it was so good to have someone along side of me.

At 17 miles we came to the aid station with the Clif Shots and I decided the take another of my own GUs. I downed about half of it and decided that something was better than nothing. It was really hard to eat anything in the heat. The water was great though, and soon we were on our way again. At about 17.5 miles, Donna called out "Ice!" and we ran for it. I had spent the entire race looking for ice and I told the people who were handing it out, "I love you!!". I shoved some in my hat and in my shirt and ate a couple of chunks. There were many sprinklers and hoses along this portion and that combined with a tiny break from the sun had me feeling pretty good. We tagged on and off for awhile... picking a sign to run to and then taking a small walk break to another sign... then running again. Soon we were beyond 18 and getting close to 19. We ran up the hill to the bridge and the walked for a short while before charging across the rest of the bridge to the next aid station. The fall colors along the river were stunning. I took in the view and thought about the next 7 miles ahead. At this point I had some slim hope of coming in under 5, but I wasn't sure how the hills before Summit would play out. I could tell that I was getting tired, but I consoled myself with the fact that I had run a very conservative race so far and I might have more left in me than I thought. An ambulance roared by us as we came back down the other side of the River Road. It must have been somewhere around here that Donna told me that they had called off Chicago... I felt so bad for everyone at LBCM. My heart just went out to them.

Soon we were approaching 20 miles, and as Donna put it, "The Wall". I kept telling myself over and over, "There is no wall... there is no wall." But there was.... or well, there was a large inflatable "wall" of sorts that we ran under. :D The was music blasting and I was feeling good. I took a tootsie roll which seemed like it would sit really nice in my stomach at this point. Donna, however, was really struggling. I felt so bad for her... I encouraged her as much as I could and told her that I would see her at the finish, and then I moved on. I kept the game going with myself. Running and then walking a little. Staying strong... Nearing 21 I knew that "the hill" was coming up. Oh boy, deep breath. I remember thinking during my training run that the hill really wasn't that bad. However, my legs were tired and while I hobbled up it, it seemed like a cruel, cruel place for a hill. At the top, I felt wasted. But I kept on and remembered that an aid station was up ahead.

I think I ate some Sharkies somewhere in here, but really it's all a blur. Summit Avenue felt like a death march, with more runners walking than running. I passed by the "start" location of my first 5K and tried to remember what it was like running in the nice, cool February temps. Nearing mile 22 I was running along when I heard my name being called out and I looked back to see my parents... somehow I had passed them. My mom was shouting out "Beth, water! Water! Do you want water?" For a moment I hesitated and looked back. It was maybe 20 feet from where I was to where she I was. I began to turn and then I thought... "No. I am going to have to run back and then up to this point again. No. I have to keep moving forward." So I shouted... "Come here... bring it up to me." My mom took off and was soon up and next to me handing me the bottle. My dad was then running along and so was Zack. I must have given some indication that I was okay. I think I was smiling and saying that I would see them at the finish. And I think I said something about a death march from here till the end. Zack told me that I had friends waiting up at the 23.5 mile mark and my dad told me that I had the race and that my training was going to pay off now.... to be tough and hang in there. I kept going and clung to the bottle of water. I drank some, poured some on me, and finally ditched it when I saw the next aid station. I remember walking a bit here and thinking how much it hurt just to walk. My hip was starting to feel sore and my feet felt like they had a hundred miles on them. I played the run to next point game, and was happy to see Snelling Avenue ahead.

At this point I just focused on getting to my friends waiting at Hamline Ave near the 23.5 mark. One foot in front of the next.... Hamline came into view and then I saw my friend Jamie on the corner. She saw me and started yelling and cheering and then I saw her husband Dave and my friend Ali and her husband (also Dave). I was so relieved and I felt stronger than ever... Jamie and Ali jumped in and ran with me. This was amazing.... I had one on each side and I just felt completely rejuvenated for awhile. We talked (I don't remember about what... I must have been a little out of it) and I remember feeling really confident about finishing soon. They hung in there with me for about half mile and their words of encouragement carried me even after I said goodbye.

The last two and half miles on Summit were... difficult at best. First of all, whoever planned the music needs to think a little bit harder about where they place the bands. There was a nice upbeat Elvis impersonator earlier along the Ave singing something about "Don't take away my running shoes...", but come mile 24, what do we have? Slow jazz. Slow... sorrowful.... jazz. I felt like I was going to a funeral. It didn't help that another runner was getting put on a stretcher off to the side of the road. It was a slow march at this point... most people were walking. As soon as I slowed to a walk at the aid station at mile 24, I wondered if I was going to be able to pick it up to a run again. Each step was heavy and I couldn't believe how much effort it took just to keep walking. But I didn't stop... I wouldn't.... I couldn't... the finish was close.

Nearing the 25 mile mark, I found myself running along behind who else... but Sven Sundgaard?! This was a hoot as people were hollering out "Sven!! What's the deal with the weather??" The poor guy was just trying to finish the dang race and here he had to answer questions about the weather. Ha! I ran along behind him for awhile and then passed him. He passed me in the aid station. I took another drink of water and thought... this is it... one mile to the finish! It was shortly after this aid station that I found Peg. I was moseying along and then I spotted a cute red haired chick ahead of me... and, wait, her arm said "Peg". It couldn't be? But it was! I hugged her and we talked for a couple seconds about the way the race had gone so far. We both commented that we had held onto hopes of a 5 hour race for awhile. We confirmed plans to meet up after the finish at the "C" sign in the meet up area. I told her "See you at the finish!". Right after I left Peg, I ran past Sven again, past some people trying to hand out cups of beer to runners, and then through the "Target Tunnel". It was an 80' dome type tunnel with music blaring really loud. It didn't exactly pump me up, but at any rate, I knew that the finish was just around the bend and that was enough to keep me going.

Soon I heard someone say "Is that the top of the Cathedral?". Then we rounded a corner and the Cathedral and the Capitol came into view. A million emotions rushed forward as I ran down the hill and towards the 26 miler marker. A huge flag was waving above the course and the finish was in clear sight. I let it all go and let the rush of emotions carry me towards that finish line. This was it... the end of a long journey.... even longer than the 26.2 miles I had come today. I looked for my parents and Zack but didn't see them. That last quarter mile felt like a long ways to go, and yet it was over before I knew it. I heard my name over the loud speaker and made sure NOT to hit my watch as I crossed the finish line (got to look good for those pictures!). I had done it. I had made it..... I had officially become a marathoner.


Post-Race: After crossing the line, I was herded through the chute. A finisher's medal was placed around my neck, and I vaguely remember thinking that I didn't like the white ribbon it was hanging from. Then a woman handed me a mylar blanket, but at that moment I couldn't imagine needing it since I was still dripping with sweat. Next we were given our race shirts.... apparently Twin Cities Marathon gives the shirts AFTER the race. (At first, I thought this was weird that we didn't get them at the expo, but the end result was worth the wait. The shirt was a long sleeve, high quality, black Brooks tech-shirt with the marathon logo on the front and the word "Finisher" underneath. It's neat to have a shirt that I had to work so hard to get... almost anyone can show up at the starting line for the T-Shirt.... but to have to finish the race, especially in though conditions gives the word "finisher" a little bit more meaning. Anyways, enough about the shirt!) Next we were given bottles of water and apples and oranges and chips. I took one of each, but had next to no appetite. Our champion chips were clipped off our shoes, and then I headed towards the bag check to get my gear. I remember standing in front of the check area and trying to remember my race number and then looking down at my bib. By that point one of the kids had already run and got my bag. I untied it and stuffed all the post-race goodies in and then headed to get in line for the massage.

It was while I was in line that I realized how sore my legs were. I also started to get chilled, despite the heat of the day. The mylar blanket came in handy then, and I couldn't believe how much it warmed me up. As I was waiting in line, I noticed several runners down around me. Many were laying on the ground and appeared to be in tough shape. A woman with an orange flag was waving Emergency support over to the "Runners Down!". A crew of medical personal were tending to runners in need of help. A guy who was waiting in line ahead of me mentioned that he knew that if he sat down he was not going to be able to get back up. We struck up a conversation quickly and I found out that he was from Australia. I asked if he had come to run the race, and he commented that he had come here "for a woman". Ha! He asked if my legs had cramped up at all (they hadn't), and he told me that his had right before the finish line and he had collapsed before some people helped him up and across the line to a waiting wheelchair. He said that he refused it though because he didn't want to be on the news. So funny.... I asked him if this was his first race and he said, "Yes... and I didn't even train for it." What?? He said he figured it couldn't be that hard. Oh, and he finished twenty minutes ahead of me!! He said "next time" he might even train. I laughed and said goodbye before getting ushered over to a mat on the ground for my massage. Oh my goodness... it felt like heaven. I almost fell asleep I think. The woman really worked over my back and legs, and while they were really sore and achy, the pressure felt good on them. I somehow got up off the ground after that and headed for the changing tent. It was at this point that I found myself very happy to have packed dry clothes, flip flops and wet wipes (although running through the sprinklers had eliminated most of the salt built up on my face). I realized I hadn't brought a towel to dry off, but the t-shirt I had packed would work fine as I knew I could just throw on the race shirt. I was almost afraid to take off my shoes and see what was inside. My feet looked pretty bad... I had a huge blister on the inside of my big toe and my feet looked like they had been soaking in water for over five hours (they had). I was thankful for the flip flops since I didn't think I could put my feet back inside any pair of shoes. While I was changing, Donna came into the tent. I was so happy to see that she had made it! After I was all changed and dry, I found my way out of the secured runner's area. Waiting at the gate were my parents and Zack. The first one I saw was my dad, who greeted me with a huge hug. I kept saying that I needed to get to the letter C to meet Peg... I don't think that they knew what I was even talking about, but they followed me as I hobbled toward the meet up area. I spotted Peg and then met her husband. We talked about the race and got some pictures together briefly before she had to go. It was so neat to meet her though, and I am still amazed that we found each other out on the course! After our goodbyes, we took some more pictures in front of the capitol and then went to the party tent for pizza. I had my medal engraved (my dad and Zack insisted it was necessary), and then we slowly made our way towards the car. I couldn't believe that it was all over.

Back home my mom and Zack were ready to walk down to Speedy Market for my 20 pound bag of ice, but ending the day by sitting in yet another ice bath didn't seem very fun. I thought about it... and decided that I didn't have anything I needed to recover for. So what if it took a couple extra days before I could walk? Instead I sat on the couch and relived the many moments of the race with my parents and Zack. That night, after a hot shower for me, Zack and I went out to Applebees and I got a huge burger and a maple butter blondie for dessert. I can't remember the last time I ate like that. But it tasted so good! :D


Conclusion: The race was an experience that I will never forget. It was thrilling to the core... exhausting and exhilarating. To quote marathoner Dick Beardsley, "When you cross that finish line... it will change your life forever." There is something about facing a challenge like the marathon that forces you to dig deep and find out what you are made of. At some point in the race or the training, you come to the end of yourself... there is nothing left anymore. And yet in this place of total weakness, a strength of character emerges.

Twin Cities Marathon '07 was not what I expected. The weather conditions were bad. They reported yesterday that the if the temps would have rose one degree the race would have been called. Battling the heat and humidity took allot of extra effort. I knew going into the race that I was capable of a 4:20 - 4:40 marathon. My finishing time of 5:13:47 could have been a disappointment. But it wasn't. I am still proud of what I accomplished out on that course.

The question has been asked. Over and over again. Will I do it again? Will I run another marathon? Well.... I am not sure. Taking the advice that I have heard over and over again on the forums, I will not begin planning for or training for my next marathon until I have forgotten my last one. I am still reliving this race in my mind and processing the experience. I have allot of dreams that I want to chase, and I think the triathlon scene might be calling my name. But... I can already feel the longing for the next marathon in me. I think I have some unfinished business that needs to be taken care of (on a cooler and drier day in the future). That 4:20 - 4:40 finish might just need to become a reality. For now though, I am happy with 5:13:47 on a record breaking day of heat and humidity.

Signing out....
Yours truly,
—a newly minted Marathoner


Times and Splits: As I mentioned earlier, my Garmin was really screwed up for the entire race. At first it was ahead by a 1/10 of a mile, then at some point it was behind. I didn't pay much attention to it except for the total time count. At the end of the race it read 5:13:52 and 26.48 mi. I will post my splits, but they are a little messed up. At any rate, they give some concept of how my pace went throughout.

11:22 — 1.1 m
10:43
11:46 — .92 m... first water stop chaos!
10:43
10:24
11:05
10:39
11:13
11:10
10:55
11:25
12:10
11:36
12:45
10:36
12:24
11:20
12:25
12:21
12:15
11:59
14:20
13:37
11:36
15:28
13:13
5:15 — .56


Thanks: To my parents for their support and encouragement. To my husband and best friend, Zack for his unwavering willingness to be my advocate, friend, and partner in life. To Jamie and Ali for running with me right when I needed it most. To the V-Team for all the advice and support, and for believing in me. To Hal, for the training plan and all the advice along the way. To the friends who emailed with well wishes and congratulations. To the crowd for their cheers and ice and sprinklers. To God for giving me the strength, stamina, and determination that got me to the finish with a smile on my face. And to you.... for making it through my looooonnnnggg race report. :D


Pictures: Are coming soon!