"That's the Marathon"

Turning the last corner going back to the boardwalk for the last quarter mile of the Shamrock Marathon in VA Beach, I took a cup of water from a guy decked out in Leprechaun gear.  I said something clever, and he and I had a fun back and forth.  I downed the water and suddenly, in unison, both my calf muscles locked up in a fit of rage.  I suddenly stopped running, quickly walked for a few seconds and said, "What was that!?"  A kindly gentleman replied, "That's the marathon."

My friends, that one statement sums up the race that was the Shamrock Marathon, 2012 for me.  I trained for this race harder than I have trained for any race I have ever run.  I put in all the work necessary, I ate all the right foods, I hydrated to perfection, and the weather wasn't even all that bad.  The Shamrock course is also very flat, with a slight elevation change at the beginning of the race.  The conditions and my health were in perfect sync for a perfect marathon.

I had invited my friend, Al, to join me.  He was a little hesitant about my 3:45 goal, but was willing to stick with me until he felt the need to slow down.  He even fell behind for a while as nature will do that to a man and ended hitting a 7:50 pace to catch back up.  We kept a 8:24 avg. pace for a long while.  Around mile 13.1, the halfway point, I was right on the mark for a 3:45 marathon.  The next mile was slower than I wanted, so I sped up, what I felt like was just a bit.  This left Al a little behind, but right around miles 15-21, we reached a point in the course where there was no one around but runners.  It was quiet except for the passing cars on the other side of the trees.  Our pace started to slow, we started trudging an 8:40ish pace.

It was right around mile 19 or 20 than I started feeling the cramps in a place in my legs I have never felt cramps before, the quads.  Al encouraged me, even saying that there was no charlie horse.  I kept going as strong as I could, Al told me he was determined that I would make my 3:45 goal.  I confessed that 3:45 was ultimately my reaching goal.  The reason why I choose a goal that is a little beyond me is that I might make it, but if I don't make it, it's likely that I will make my ultimate goal which, in this case, was a sub-4 hour marathon.  Al's goal was similar, but he was more interested in finishing over his time, his PR was a 4:17 up to that point, mine a 4:01.

Around mile 21 the 3:45 pace group passed us and I, try as I did, could not keep up.  But that was OK, so long as I don't lose 15 minutes in the last 5 miles, I should make it in under 4.  I was still battling the cramps, but I managed to hold it together, even getting ahead of Al again.  Then the cramps got worse, so bad that at exactly mile 22 I could not move my legs.  It felt like someone had put a softball in my legs, right above the knees and I had to walk.  Now, I've learned the one thing you do NOT do when running a marathon is to stop... no matter what, you keep moving forward.

I learned in the past that when the cramps start working on you and you have to walk, you just walk.  Stopping to stretch only makes things worse.  I walked, first at a shuffle, then I was able to power walk.  Al passed me, I told him to keep going.  I started to run a little again, this time for 6 and a half minutes.  Then I walked for a minute and tried again.  I went for about 10 minutes and walked for another minute, then just started alternating walking and running.  The pain wasn't even close to going away, but as we got back to the cheering crowds, I was able to go a little longer each time.  The softballs in my legs did not go away, they just got bigger and tighter.  I have never felt so much pain in my life.

My goal was to manage the pain- each mile and each step was getting harder than the next, but the crowds kept me going.  I was able to run for stretches and walk just enough to shake out the muscles.  At mile 24, I looked at the race clock 3:40, I had 20 minutes to go 2 miles.  I knew that I could go 10 minute miles if I just kept going, and so I did.  At mile 25, I started running with the determination to not stop, then came that last turn, back to the boardwalk.

The softballs now bowling balls.  I could barely bend my knees, but I kept running.  The pain was horrible, but I kept smiling and trying to be clever with the crowds.  Then came that turn back to the boardwalk.  Suddenly, the softballs, having been displaced by bowling balls, moved to my calf muscles and I walked momentarily, regained my composure and started running again.

To this day, I can't possible describe the pain I felt, but I was NOT going to walk across that finish line.  As I passed King Neptune, neither leg willing or able to bend properly, I looked at the finish line and the clock.  It read, 3:59:25, that was the official "clock" time, but my official time was kept on my bib by a microchip.  The microchip reads when you actually started the race.  When a race has roughly 4500 people running in it, it can take up to ten or more minutes to actually start the race after it officially starts.  It took me 2 minutes to cross the starting line, so I knew 4 hours was going to be broken.  It was all I could do to will myself across the finish line (clock time 3:59:50; chip time 3:57:42).

So, I broke 4 hours.  I've learned a lot about flat courses and which muscles get the most work.  I've learned how to adjust goals and how important focus and drive are.  I've also learned new types of pain that I have never felt before and how to manage and get through.  I've learned that a helpful reminder when things aren't going my way that, These are not my legs, but God's.  I can do all things through God.  The Lord is my stronghold, whom shall I fear.  This was the mantra I started chanting as I pushed through to the finish... it worked, I got there, I got my medal, my finisher's hat and hoodie.   I even got my free beer, which, let me tell you, was the best tasting beer I had ever had.  I've even learned that when a leprechaun hits your legs with a hammer and jumps on your back and demands a piggy back ride, you just need to say no.  Also, Chuck Norris never ran a marathon, and marathons are not good parades.  Those are just some of the things you learn in a marathon.

But that's the marathon, and I guarantee, after a few days of recovery, I'll start looking for the next one.  Thanks for reading, and God bless!