Oh hey!
I may look embarrassed happy here, but little did I know what the weekend would fully have in store for me.
Friday night, my dear friends drove to downtown Seattle and met Briana and I after work for a carb-filled dinner. We all needed the energy! It was delicious and was so nice to catch up with some of my favorite ladies.
Saturday morning arrived before I could think about it. After a full work week, I was exhausted so I had no trouble falling asleep. Although, I did wake up several times fearing that I'd slept through my 5am alarm. I had my pre-race breakfast of bread, peanut butter, and bananas scattered on top. Filling enough! By 5:40am my crew was ready to drop me off at the start line. The starting point was about a 20 minute drive so that worked out well with my plans to get there at 6:15am and stretch, think, and boost the energy. All seemed to be going swimmingly until we took the exit to get off. The start was just a couple miles away but we were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. Once 6:30am rolled around, the game was on. I hopped out of the car and joined the dozens of people walking/jogging from the road. Since I wanted to pace myself and was assigned a specific corral number, I decided that the start line surely would be just around the corner so I'd have to jog. Well, that corner turned into another and another and another. A warm-up jog that I thought would last a few hundred feet lasted about 2 miles. I had already broken a sweat! By the time I reached the starting line, it was time to go. I was assigned to corral 12. When I heard the obnoxious speaker trying to pump everyone up with her dumb jokes and silly quips say, "Alright Corral 18 are you ready or WHAT?" I said a few inappropriate words in my head (some directed at the fact that I was nearly 30 minutes late and other directed to the "crowd-pleaser" speaker) and joined in with corral 18. Barely stretched, two miles in, and ready to get this show on the road, I powered through. I paced myself at 9 minute miles pretty well for most of the first half.
I ran along and admired the beauty. I did not know when I would see my friends along the side lines (football?) but I was always looking for them. Along mile 6 I saw them. I was more excited than I've been in awhile. Seeing familiar faces in that setting is the best feeling. After running past, I smiled for quite a bit of time just thinking about that. It was an adrenaline rush that came from simple cheers and smiles. I couldn't have been feeling better. I reached the highway and went on the bridge on 90. The same 90 that would take me back to Illinois. That 90. That 90 was one of my favorite parts of the race. We only ran on the bridge over the water but the views were extraordinary.
The rest of the run was a struggle. From mile 11, I started to hear my legs yelling at me. No big deal, 15 miles left. At mile 20, I took full advantage of the salt packet on the table. Nothing like a burst of sodium to get your wheels going! Well, the wheels didn't really speed up but I didn't feel like crumbling to the ground anymore. I cannot begin to tell you everything I thought about throughout the race but I'll name a few. It's obviously a good time for people watching. Ha. Ha. I wondered if it was the day that the viaduct would collapse as I ran under it. I wondered if friends from college were up yet. I thought about how someone could fly from SeaTac to Chicago in the time it took me to run. From that thought, I wondered about how many people were in the sky on a given day. How absolutely crazy is that?? This whole flying thing, still fascinates me. I obviously thought about changing my route and just doing the half marathon. I thought about what music people were listening to when "Bridge over Troubled Water" came on my shuffle and I didn't change it because I needed them to sing it to me as a pushed along. And finally, I had tears in my eyes several times because I thought about seeing everyone who came to watch and imagined running it without them. They really stole the show.
When I hit mile 25, my legs changed it up on me. Since I had been sluggishly moving for the last 4 miles, I could not believe that I suddenly started to run like my normal self. The anticipation was killing me and I knew I'd be done soon. Although the last mile and point two seemed like 3 miles, mile 25.5 presented me with a surprise. I saw the support team and just about died. They made everything okay.
And then I crossed the finish line 4 hours, 29 minutes, and 48 seconds later. That, my friends, was the best 28.2 miles I have ever completed.
The people who made it so special. I cannot thank them or tell them I love them enough. It's not every day you want to watch 26,000 people running around/chaffing/bleeding/crying/stumbling/achieving their goals, but I'm glad they wanted to do that on June 25, 2011.
So no, I'm not going to say I'm never running a marathon again because I've done that and look where it got me. I will say that I cannot feel my back or legs. As awful as that may sound, the feeling of completing the marathon (injury free) far outweighs sore muscles.
Best,
Anne
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