I've tried several times to write a blog that would capture the essence of the marathon, but each post seems to turn into....well, a marathon. And really? Who wants to actually read 26.2 pages about running? Okay. Maybe I would do that. But, I admit, I may be in the minority. So, here goes, a summary of something that is hard to summarize....
The race started and ended at the NCSU Bell Tower. There is something really cool about running an endurance event at a place that holds nothing but happy, carefree memories. To me, college was a place where I believed anything was possible. All sugar plums and fresh roses. Before the harsh realities of life and bills and jobs really sunk in. But starting and finishing 26.2 miles on the same grounds where I believed that anything was possible, combined with a LITTLE age and wisdom (hey, I'm not THAT far removed, after all), I felt no qualms about running a distance that I had not previously conquered.
The gun sounded and we were off, nice and slow, first snaking around the streets of downtown Raleigh. As we went through a neighborhood around mile 2, there was a man pacing a side street, holding two balloons and a sign that said "this is the worst parade I have ever seen". Although I am not sure if his intent was ironic, sarcastic, funny or malicious, it struck me as funny and it became my mantra, whenever I needed a mental distraction during the race.
Around mile 10, we headed onto the Raleigh greenway, where we would run....and run....and run out to a lovely place called Shelley Lake, turn around and run....and run...and run....back to Hillsborough Street. I remember hearing someone say when we neared the greenway, "I can't wait to get on that greenway." And on the last mile of the greenway, I remember hearing someone say "Get me OFF this damn greenway already." Who said these things? I don't even know. It could have even been me. Regardless, I had to repeat my mantra several times while on the greenway.
At mile 13, I suddenly felt like someone took a piece of glass and figured out a way to bypass my skin and shatter it inside of my kneecap. For the next 13 miles, every step felt like the inside of my knee was being stabbed by tiny shards of glass. This is the worst parade I have ever seen. At mile 20, a guy started "pacing" me. Meaning, he decided to run at my heels because he liked the particular speed I was going at that given time and wanted to keep his speed the same. At that point in the race, my knees were hurting, I was tired and this guy was totally pushing me off the greenway. And THEN, he started trying to carry on a conversation. I was NOT in the mood. My mom always taught me if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all, so I sped up just enough to get away from him before I got kicked out of the race for saying or doing something indecent. This is the worst parade I have ever seen. Mile 22 was a mile climb up and out of the greenway. I debated grabbing a Styrofoam cup of beer that they were serving at the base of hill, but my stomach churned at the idea, so I skipped it and focused on the sole cheerleader standing at the top. This is the worst parade I have ever seen.
We exited the greenway at mile 24. I was expecting to turn left back onto Hillsborough and make the trek back to campus and finish the darn parade already. Unfortunately, race volunteers directed us to the right. I ran past a girl who murmured "good job", a very friendly thing to do. I yelled back at her "WHY ARE WE TURNING RIGHT ONTO HILLSBOROUGH STREET?!?!?! DON'T THEY KNOW THAT IS THE WRONG WAY! THE BELLTOWER IS THE OTHER WAY. WHAT ARE THEY TRYING TO DO TO US?!?!" She pretended she didn't hear me and scooted over a little bit.
I made it all the way up to 440, probably the longest half mile I have ever run in my life. Once we turned the corner and started heading back towards the belltower, I tried to pick up the pace on my sad little knees and finish. A man standing in the middle of the road at mile 25 gave me a high 5 and exclaimed, "you just ran 25 miles and you look that good?!". And although I know he said that to every single runner that passed him before and after me, I graciously thanked him and told him he just gave me the energy to finish the race. I pushed hard and saw two little blond headed boys screaming for me as I crossed the finish line.
It only took me two days to bend my knees again.
But, after that? I felt completely fine.
It's interesting that the marathon season coincides with the holiday season. So, here's the short list of what I am thankful for now that I officially finished the worst parade I have ever seen.
- The Disco Dancing Duo that moved along the course, gave high fives and played some good music at some quiet spots.
- The "Punch for Power" sign. The second time I saw it, it was around mile 20 and I hit it so hard, the guy staggered backwards. If you are holding that kind of sign, you better BRING it.
- A kid standing on the side line screaming: I didn't make this sign for nothing. Keep running!
- No real injuries.
- A quick recovery.
- The friends who don't care the least bit about running but cared enough about me to shoot me a text in the middle of the race. I couldn't read them, but every time my phone pinged, it made me smile. Even if one of them was from Earth Fare.
- Seeing my two oldest boys screaming my name at miles 14, 20 and 26.2 and my mom at mile 26.2. It helped more than I could have ever imagined knowing they were cheering me on.
- The two littlest boys that were at home for this race but were on my mind as they always are.
- The fun, funny, sweet, smart and beautiful ladies who met me at ungodly hours to train for this race. They saw me dirty and sweaty, grunting and huffing, happy and cranky. They heard things that I would never breathe to another soul. They supported me and kept me company on the "journeys" that we shared. And I love them for that.
1 comment:
You told your story beautifully! Congratulations on a great race! You are a marathoner!!
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