Never Say Never

26.2 miles in 4:31:37. I said I would never run a marathon. Ever. But I did last weekend. And, you know what? It wasn't that bad. A year ago I was in the midst of training for my first half marathon, something I was pretty sure I'd never do either. I loved it so much that I ran another this past December. A few weeks before that race, a friend from high school and I decided that we should take the leap and run a full. We were thinking of tackling one in the fall of 2012 or early 2013. Neither of us thought we could be ready to run a full anytime sooner than that, but we decided since we were already running 30 miles a week we might try to run one now and signed up for the New Orleans Rock 'n' Roll Marathon on March 4th. My training period was 12 weeks, beginning the week after the St. Jude half marathon the first week of December. There were many setbacks - illness, soreness, missed long runs and inability to complete one crucial 20-miler. I thought I was doomed. But, I was able to run two 20-milers, albeit on very tired legs, and logged 314 miles in my 12-week training period. So, I went for it on race day. I knew I would be disappointed in myself if I didn't at least try. The really funny thing was that I wasn't nervous race day, because my goals were realistic: 1) Have fun 2) Finish the race 3) Finish in 4:45:00 4) Finish in 4:30:00. I knew that I would cross the finish line, even if it was on bloody hands and knees! I was that determined, which helped me relax into the idea of covering the distance. The weather was perfect: clear, cool, sunny and low humidity. Hardly sounds like New Orleans in March, right? The first half was perfect. I ran a conservative 10:00/mile pace. Looking back, I could have pushed the pace but I didn't want to hit the proverbial wall at mile 18 or 20 and then wish I had run the first half more slowly. One of my favorite parts of running races is the experience. You never know who you'll meet, what you'll see and the sights and sounds you'll take in. The first funny moment of the race was when I had to, unfortunately, pee at about mile 6. If I had just been running the half, I would have held it, but I still had 20 miles to go! We came to a bank of port-a-potties and the line was as long as what you'd expect at the state fair or a Sugarland concert. I was like, "This is a race!! I'm not waiting!!" So, that's when Kelly from LA and I buddied up and kept watch while the other peed in the bushes. I appreciated that she actually waited for me, since she went first. She could have run off, but she had nice race etiquette and covered me. We ran together a few miles and had pleasant chit chat until she had to pull over and stretch. Brad ran the first half with me despite having a wrecked calf muscle. It was nice to have him by my side. He carried my Gatorade, called out paces and gave me a good pep talk before we split at mile 12.5. For the first time ever, I was running a full and he a half marathon. And, for the first time ever, my half marathon split was faster than his! When I veered left with all the other marathoners, the pack thinned and suddenly got quiet. There were 13,000 runners completing the half and 3,000 running the full. And, I think every full marathoner knew there was work to do after the split and was intently concentrating on each step. I turned up my music and settled into a 9:30 pace. I felt great, but was still conservative in my pacing. Then around mile 15 something awful happend. You see, my husband and many other distance runners I know take S Caps, Endurolytes, whatever else you want to call electrolyte replacements taken to help prevent muscle cramps. So, Brad was feeding S Caps (sodium and potassium capsules) to me like they were candy the entire first half. The day was warming up, my sweat production was increasing, so it made sense. But, I had never tried S Caps before, so I was breaking a basic rule of racing: NEVER TRY SOMETHING NEW IN A RACE!!!!! However, I thought to myself, "How harmful could electrolyte replacement be?" It's not like you can overdose on the elements. Apparently, though, it can be QUITE detrimental. I paid the price. Starting at mile 15 I had to stop at every towering green port-a-potty I passed. Seeing them in the distance was like a beacon of hope to my bowels. Sigh. Nobody would want to deal with that extreme of a case of diarrhea sitting on their couch 10 feet from their own bathroom let alone running a MARATHON while experiencing it!!! Soon after my first bout, I came upon Modesto from Columbia (the country). He was running his first marathon as well. He was hoping to also run a 4:30:00 race. We decided to run together. Modesto didn't last long with me. He cramped up pretty quickly as we approached mile 17. He was hitting the wall I feared, yet wasn't approaching. Perhaps I should have given him the rest of my S Caps! I charged forward and still managed to stay ahead of Modesto despite my "condition." I later looked up his time and he finished in 4:55:16. I was proud of my little Columbian friend! At mile 20, with a 10K left to run, I was actually feeling my best - again, despite the loose bowels! I decided I was going to try to do whatever I could to not stop anymore the entire race. Rough math said I could finish in 4:23 if I didn't, and by this time I had long ago stopped the S Caps and Gatorade, realizing I was doing something to myself to cause the diarrhea. :( I was feeling very strong as I cofidently passed the 20-mile mark, a distance I had never surpassed. As the miles and minutes ticked on, I sadly still needed to make pitstops, but when I was running I was averaging a 9:00/min pace. It wasn't until the last 0.6 miles of the race that I finally started to feel like I wanted to quit running. The last 0.2 miles of the run were the most exhilarating, though, with the crowd cheering and the finish in sight. In summary, I was disappointed in myself after the race when thinking about the time I could have finished in had I not consumed the S Caps. Yes, I'm my own biggest competitor and worst critic. However, with a few days' time, I have revised my opinion of the race's outcome. I have decided I have A LOT to be proud of and that, like we thought as kids, poop is funny. The fact that I stopped at eight port-a-potties is completely ridiculous and totally hilarious! I mean, that would only happen to me, really. Pepto, people, will be part of my regimine from now on. I'm so proud of the fact that I never hit a wall, I maintained a competitive pace when running, felt strong, remained injury-free, had fun and finished only 1:37 slower than my 4th race goal! I had runners and spectators alike commenting on how well I was racing the last 6.2 miles. It made me feel great! I realized that I was, in fact, well-trained. Of course, now I have to redeem myself and do what I said I'd never do again. I'll sign up for the St. Jude Marathon in Memphis as soon as registration opens. I have to thank my parents for providing course support and taking care of our children practically the entire weekend, while battling personal illness and crowded streets! They made my first marathon so memorable! I love you! And, having Brad and the kids there made this race damn near perfect. I guess you could say I'm hooked now. Jennie Vee will love to hear that.