Tucson Marathon-December 13th, 2009-First Marathon Ever
See the attached race story I wrote about my first marathon. It was a great day but the subsequent days were not so kind...:)
Marathons are not unique, nor is the accomplishment rare. It is very common to come across someone that has run a marathon on any given day in any given conversation. So beyond one torn ACL attempt five years ago it hasn’t really ever sparked the interest in me that other challenges have. Running on the road has always been a little morning and monotonous to me so the idea of 4 plus hours doing it…no thank you.
Until I made a stop in Huntsville, Alabama to meet Jen’s brother in law, Brett Addington. He took me on a little trail in the Monte Salo State Park where he has ran the Mountain Mist 50K race the last couple years. All trail, all mountains, all wooded. It was such a stark reminder of hiking and running through the woods of Vermont and Upstate New York that I was drawn back to it all over again. We only ran five miles that day on the trails but the miles stayed with me all the way around the country until we returned home to Arizona.
A month later I had signed up for the Tucson Marathon in December to fulfill the Mountain Mist 50K’s prerequisite of having completed a marathon at some point in your life. Five quick miles and suddenly I’m signed up for a marathon and a month later a 50K? What in the world was I doing? Next thing I know I’m on a four man relay mountain biking for 24 hours straight, running the 7 summits in Phoenix, hiking the Grand Canyon from Rim to Rim to Rim in one day…it’s time for my first marathon.
Starting Ling-26.2 Miles to go. There is about 1,200 runners in the full marathon starting in the mountains in Tucson about 4,400 ft in elevation. The sun is coming up over the boulder topped mountains as everyone is getting amped up for the race. I’ve peed four times. Everyone lines up ready to go. An older gentleman asks the time. My running partner Clint plugs in the headphones. The gun goes off.
Mile 1- I can’t believe I am running a marathon and I’m going to be running for another 25 miles. I can only imagine how bad my knees are going to feel in two hours. I know, I’ll run on the side of the road in the dirt. Everyone is looking at me aren’t they? Who cares, this feels much better.
Mile 2-Can I possibly have shin splints 2 miles into the race?? This downhill is murder. Are you really going to just throw that on the ground like that? The litter is astounding. Runners are so inconsiderate.
Mile 3-It must suck to be a woman racer. Guys just running off to pee left and right. 8 minute miles. This is doable but where are my Phish songs? This shuffle sucks.
Mile 5-I feel my legs slowly getting looser. My body always “struggles” the first five to six miles of any run until I get loose. Feeling better now. Too good. Better slow down Clint, we’re running under 8 minute miles.
Mile 7-About an hour in now…feeling pretty good. The shin splints are going…WTF!! Are those guys already on their way back?? I hate them. I hope they fall over. “Good work guys” I yell as they race by me the opposite direction at 5 minute miles up a mountain. Their energy level is nauseating.
Mile 9-A spectator!! This is great. Almost at ten miles. Then we are only another ten miles away from only being six miles from the finish. Under 8 minute miles again…slow down.
Mile 10- Man I love these socks!!” says the guy that paid $55 for knee high compression socks, Clint. Apparently they work. Time for a Gu, a few Advil and some electrolytes.
Mile 11- YEAHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE GU!!!!!!!!! “Let’s pick it up Clint!!!!!!!!” I could sprint the next ten miles feeling like this. The barren desert landscape that is so monotonous I want to pay someone to put a corner into the route.
….Fifteen minutes later-This was a stupid idea. I hate running. I hate Gu. I hate downhill.
Mile 13.1-Halfway mark showed a whopping 14 spectators on a nondescript sign. I’ve started a habit of slapping the mile marker on the way by each sign. It breaks up the boredom. Where the hell is the Phish group of songs on this ipod? I’ve been searching for 13 freaking miles!!
Mile 15-I’m pretty much ready for a turn, a hill or something other than downhill through open desert. Maybe we could do something about the 30 mph wind straight at my face that is so strong it looks like I’m crying every time a girl runs by me. Speaking of, why the heck does that girl run past us a hundred miles an hour and then walk the next mile? We’ve passed her four times already. I kind of want to push her into the bushes. Her and her stupid 50 Marathons in 50 states t-shirt she’s wearing. She’s not even running.
Mile 16-Should I be leaning into the wind or not? This is miserable. All benefit from the downward slope is completely offset by the stupid wind. I hate wind.
Miles 17-Pretty sure this isn’t fun anymore. No song in my player is working and I’m thinking that one more Gu and my stomach will rupture into a bloody mess. My quads feel like I accidently cut them with an axe. Forty five times.
Miles 18-I hate mile 18.
Miles 20-Look at all these people!! All these people clapping it’s impossible to feel tired now. Maybe if I run harder they’ll think we were running this fast the whole time. Yeah, that’s what we’re going to do Clint. Let’s pass all these people, then walk through the aid station so they pass us and then we’ll pass them again. Like we’ve been doing for 3 straight hours…
Mile 21-Two more miles until Clint’s wife Laura meets us for the last 5k. What a relief that will be. My left calf feels like its crawling straight up into my ass and I either want to sprint to the finish to end my misery in a self destructive finish or just take a nap right here next to the nice police officer telling me to get the hell out of the road. Something about I can’t sit down here.
Mile 22-I’m going to kick in the last of my Advil, four electrolytes and God’s Gift to Runners…Power Gel Double Latte with 2x Caffeine.
….8 minutes later- “C’mon Clint!! Let’s finish this!!! I feel GREAT!!!!!! Let’s hurry up before I crash again!! I LOVE GU!!!!!!!!!” A few people attempt to squeeze out a smile as I run backwards yelling for Clint to get going. Clint is miserable by this point and not speaking.
Mile 23- Who’s that girl running towards us? Oh, it’s Laura!! “Hey Laura!! Let’s go!! Keep us under 9 minute miles and we’re set the rest of the way!” “Well, I usually run 10 minute miles…Wow you guys look great!”
Mile 23.2-PHISH!!!!!!!!! Finally!!! Double latte Gu, runner’s high AND Phish?!!! Consider this race done. I’m off!!! (queue an undoubtedly embarrassing tirade of seemingly “cool” air drums, air guitar and the occasional jump kick off the curb with 8 inches of hair sticking straight up in the air with more salt on my face than on the kitchen table)
Mile 24-I’m loving this crowd! I wonder what it’s like running a major marathon with people all along the way? That would be so cool. I wonder where my next marathon will be. Where the hell is Clint and Laura?! Whoa…better slow down. Pretty sure my watch said 6:30 on the minute/miles…I cannot sustain that pace…
Miles 25-Just over a mile left. Clint is right behind me. I can’t decide when to kick to the finish. I’ve been thinking about the race to the finish but I can’t decide how much I have left. My lefts feel great and I really feel like I could run another ten miles. I don’t even feel like I’m breathing hard. This music is great. “Run like an Antelope” again? Why not. I’ll listen to that jam for the third straight time as I run two minutes faster per mile than I did the previous 24…
Mile 25.4-Rounding this last corner before climbing the hill. Gummy bears? Note to self: Gummy bears do NOT work. Hurry up Clint! Clint is near suicide. I wait until they catch up at the Gummy Bear Murderer station and run with them for a few strides. My unaccountable energy level and the sound of music at the finish has me gunning for the end like I just swallowed a half dozen espresso beans.
Mile 25.6-I flew up that hill way faster than I should be at this point. Why are all these people walking? Seriously, you are almost at the finish line! Have you not heard of Gu?! Whatever, I’m blowing past these people. I’m feeling great, I’m going to kick it out the last half a mile!
Fifty feet later….-OMG that NOT going to work. My left calf just detached itself from my bone. I’m nearly sure of it. Back to the nice easy pace, 7 minute mile. If I can maintain this pace and my absurd air drum to a Phishman jam I’m sure I’ll make the website for the most embarrassing photo. Oh, lucky me, there’s a professional photographer. He seemed way to interested in taking my photo. That can only be bad.
25.8-I don’t care, I’m sprinting. I’m going to finish this strong and all out. I’m going to fly by all these runners as the streets get even fuller of fans and spectators. I’m going to run so hard I puke at the finish line and see how many people applaud and gawk at the same time.
26.0-Rounding the last corner onto the sidewalk the route is surrounded by people clapping and cheering. I’m a sucker for support from strangers and can’t help my ego but to sprint even harder if only to make them think I was sandbagging the first 25 miles and I’m really an Olympic Kenyan who’s white and not from Kenya. I freaking love running and can’t believe how great this song is!!!
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Set the gearshift for the high gear of your soul.
You've got to run like an antelope: out of control.
I round the very last corner at full speed hoping not to trip on the time chip sensor. I can hear an announcer over my head phones and over the clapping and cheering but all I really hear is:
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Set the gearshift for the high gear of your soul.
You’ve got to run like an antelope out of control.
I round the corner, pass the time chip and come into view of the finish line perched high above the ground a hundred feet in front of me. I pump my arms faster and faster through the air as my knees pump even harder through the cruel sandbox they set the finish line on. One giant stride after another I power through as hard as I can, wondering the whole time if anyone else even sprints to the finish in a marathon…everyone else is walking or stumbling in. It must be the Gu.
I take one last stride and cross the finish line. 26.2 miles. 3 Hours and 53 minutes. I take two steps past the finish line to a person to my right who places a medal over my head for finishing. I’ve lost my vision and all is black. I tell the person I can’t see and they laugh and I suddenly regain my vision. Just a little black out. No big deal. I walk around and am handed a water bottle but I’m not interested in that. I want to run. I want to Run, run, run, run. I’ve got to take these freaking headphones off.
My girlfriend Jen runs over with a big smile on her face. My hair sticking literally straight into the air, covered in salt stains and quickly overcome with the fact that my body just ran 26 miles I begin to weakly walk over to her. Clint comes in just after me and I can’t resist going over to high five him. If it wasn’t for my random high at the end I would have been right there with him but both finished under 4 hours, what we considered an accomplished goal for both running our first marathons. Clint walks straight over to the medic tent and continues his life of misery.
Jen and I walk around, me still reeling from the high of the race and my mind starts racing to the next race and then the next race. My body tightens quickly and my legs turn into worthless limbs that only cause pain. I spend the next 24 hours not sure if I want to vomit or spend another 19 minutes in the bathroom and I struggle walking down stairs for another week. Walking is a struggle to say the least the next day but it didn’t matter. It’s all temporary and just a really small price to pay. Even while borderline crippled and in sheer misery from all the caffeine, Advil, loss in every nutrient in my body, all I could think about was when the next time I could hear the words, “Run, run, run, run” while sprinting to the finish of another run, another race, another challenge.
Until I made a stop in Huntsville, Alabama to meet Jen’s brother in law, Brett Addington. He took me on a little trail in the Monte Salo State Park where he has ran the Mountain Mist 50K race the last couple years. All trail, all mountains, all wooded. It was such a stark reminder of hiking and running through the woods of Vermont and Upstate New York that I was drawn back to it all over again. We only ran five miles that day on the trails but the miles stayed with me all the way around the country until we returned home to Arizona.
A month later I had signed up for the Tucson Marathon in December to fulfill the Mountain Mist 50K’s prerequisite of having completed a marathon at some point in your life. Five quick miles and suddenly I’m signed up for a marathon and a month later a 50K? What in the world was I doing? Next thing I know I’m on a four man relay mountain biking for 24 hours straight, running the 7 summits in Phoenix, hiking the Grand Canyon from Rim to Rim to Rim in one day…it’s time for my first marathon.
Starting Ling-26.2 Miles to go. There is about 1,200 runners in the full marathon starting in the mountains in Tucson about 4,400 ft in elevation. The sun is coming up over the boulder topped mountains as everyone is getting amped up for the race. I’ve peed four times. Everyone lines up ready to go. An older gentleman asks the time. My running partner Clint plugs in the headphones. The gun goes off.
Mile 1- I can’t believe I am running a marathon and I’m going to be running for another 25 miles. I can only imagine how bad my knees are going to feel in two hours. I know, I’ll run on the side of the road in the dirt. Everyone is looking at me aren’t they? Who cares, this feels much better.
Mile 2-Can I possibly have shin splints 2 miles into the race?? This downhill is murder. Are you really going to just throw that on the ground like that? The litter is astounding. Runners are so inconsiderate.
Mile 3-It must suck to be a woman racer. Guys just running off to pee left and right. 8 minute miles. This is doable but where are my Phish songs? This shuffle sucks.
Mile 5-I feel my legs slowly getting looser. My body always “struggles” the first five to six miles of any run until I get loose. Feeling better now. Too good. Better slow down Clint, we’re running under 8 minute miles.
Mile 7-About an hour in now…feeling pretty good. The shin splints are going…WTF!! Are those guys already on their way back?? I hate them. I hope they fall over. “Good work guys” I yell as they race by me the opposite direction at 5 minute miles up a mountain. Their energy level is nauseating.
Mile 9-A spectator!! This is great. Almost at ten miles. Then we are only another ten miles away from only being six miles from the finish. Under 8 minute miles again…slow down.
Mile 10- Man I love these socks!!” says the guy that paid $55 for knee high compression socks, Clint. Apparently they work. Time for a Gu, a few Advil and some electrolytes.
Mile 11- YEAHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE GU!!!!!!!!! “Let’s pick it up Clint!!!!!!!!” I could sprint the next ten miles feeling like this. The barren desert landscape that is so monotonous I want to pay someone to put a corner into the route.
….Fifteen minutes later-This was a stupid idea. I hate running. I hate Gu. I hate downhill.
Mile 13.1-Halfway mark showed a whopping 14 spectators on a nondescript sign. I’ve started a habit of slapping the mile marker on the way by each sign. It breaks up the boredom. Where the hell is the Phish group of songs on this ipod? I’ve been searching for 13 freaking miles!!
Mile 15-I’m pretty much ready for a turn, a hill or something other than downhill through open desert. Maybe we could do something about the 30 mph wind straight at my face that is so strong it looks like I’m crying every time a girl runs by me. Speaking of, why the heck does that girl run past us a hundred miles an hour and then walk the next mile? We’ve passed her four times already. I kind of want to push her into the bushes. Her and her stupid 50 Marathons in 50 states t-shirt she’s wearing. She’s not even running.
Mile 16-Should I be leaning into the wind or not? This is miserable. All benefit from the downward slope is completely offset by the stupid wind. I hate wind.
Miles 17-Pretty sure this isn’t fun anymore. No song in my player is working and I’m thinking that one more Gu and my stomach will rupture into a bloody mess. My quads feel like I accidently cut them with an axe. Forty five times.
Miles 18-I hate mile 18.
Miles 20-Look at all these people!! All these people clapping it’s impossible to feel tired now. Maybe if I run harder they’ll think we were running this fast the whole time. Yeah, that’s what we’re going to do Clint. Let’s pass all these people, then walk through the aid station so they pass us and then we’ll pass them again. Like we’ve been doing for 3 straight hours…
Mile 21-Two more miles until Clint’s wife Laura meets us for the last 5k. What a relief that will be. My left calf feels like its crawling straight up into my ass and I either want to sprint to the finish to end my misery in a self destructive finish or just take a nap right here next to the nice police officer telling me to get the hell out of the road. Something about I can’t sit down here.
Mile 22-I’m going to kick in the last of my Advil, four electrolytes and God’s Gift to Runners…Power Gel Double Latte with 2x Caffeine.
….8 minutes later- “C’mon Clint!! Let’s finish this!!! I feel GREAT!!!!!! Let’s hurry up before I crash again!! I LOVE GU!!!!!!!!!” A few people attempt to squeeze out a smile as I run backwards yelling for Clint to get going. Clint is miserable by this point and not speaking.
Mile 23- Who’s that girl running towards us? Oh, it’s Laura!! “Hey Laura!! Let’s go!! Keep us under 9 minute miles and we’re set the rest of the way!” “Well, I usually run 10 minute miles…Wow you guys look great!”
Mile 23.2-PHISH!!!!!!!!! Finally!!! Double latte Gu, runner’s high AND Phish?!!! Consider this race done. I’m off!!! (queue an undoubtedly embarrassing tirade of seemingly “cool” air drums, air guitar and the occasional jump kick off the curb with 8 inches of hair sticking straight up in the air with more salt on my face than on the kitchen table)
Mile 24-I’m loving this crowd! I wonder what it’s like running a major marathon with people all along the way? That would be so cool. I wonder where my next marathon will be. Where the hell is Clint and Laura?! Whoa…better slow down. Pretty sure my watch said 6:30 on the minute/miles…I cannot sustain that pace…
Miles 25-Just over a mile left. Clint is right behind me. I can’t decide when to kick to the finish. I’ve been thinking about the race to the finish but I can’t decide how much I have left. My lefts feel great and I really feel like I could run another ten miles. I don’t even feel like I’m breathing hard. This music is great. “Run like an Antelope” again? Why not. I’ll listen to that jam for the third straight time as I run two minutes faster per mile than I did the previous 24…
Mile 25.4-Rounding this last corner before climbing the hill. Gummy bears? Note to self: Gummy bears do NOT work. Hurry up Clint! Clint is near suicide. I wait until they catch up at the Gummy Bear Murderer station and run with them for a few strides. My unaccountable energy level and the sound of music at the finish has me gunning for the end like I just swallowed a half dozen espresso beans.
Mile 25.6-I flew up that hill way faster than I should be at this point. Why are all these people walking? Seriously, you are almost at the finish line! Have you not heard of Gu?! Whatever, I’m blowing past these people. I’m feeling great, I’m going to kick it out the last half a mile!
Fifty feet later….-OMG that NOT going to work. My left calf just detached itself from my bone. I’m nearly sure of it. Back to the nice easy pace, 7 minute mile. If I can maintain this pace and my absurd air drum to a Phishman jam I’m sure I’ll make the website for the most embarrassing photo. Oh, lucky me, there’s a professional photographer. He seemed way to interested in taking my photo. That can only be bad.
25.8-I don’t care, I’m sprinting. I’m going to finish this strong and all out. I’m going to fly by all these runners as the streets get even fuller of fans and spectators. I’m going to run so hard I puke at the finish line and see how many people applaud and gawk at the same time.
26.0-Rounding the last corner onto the sidewalk the route is surrounded by people clapping and cheering. I’m a sucker for support from strangers and can’t help my ego but to sprint even harder if only to make them think I was sandbagging the first 25 miles and I’m really an Olympic Kenyan who’s white and not from Kenya. I freaking love running and can’t believe how great this song is!!!
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Set the gearshift for the high gear of your soul.
You've got to run like an antelope: out of control.
I round the very last corner at full speed hoping not to trip on the time chip sensor. I can hear an announcer over my head phones and over the clapping and cheering but all I really hear is:
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Set the gearshift for the high gear of your soul.
You’ve got to run like an antelope out of control.
I round the corner, pass the time chip and come into view of the finish line perched high above the ground a hundred feet in front of me. I pump my arms faster and faster through the air as my knees pump even harder through the cruel sandbox they set the finish line on. One giant stride after another I power through as hard as I can, wondering the whole time if anyone else even sprints to the finish in a marathon…everyone else is walking or stumbling in. It must be the Gu.
I take one last stride and cross the finish line. 26.2 miles. 3 Hours and 53 minutes. I take two steps past the finish line to a person to my right who places a medal over my head for finishing. I’ve lost my vision and all is black. I tell the person I can’t see and they laugh and I suddenly regain my vision. Just a little black out. No big deal. I walk around and am handed a water bottle but I’m not interested in that. I want to run. I want to Run, run, run, run. I’ve got to take these freaking headphones off.
My girlfriend Jen runs over with a big smile on her face. My hair sticking literally straight into the air, covered in salt stains and quickly overcome with the fact that my body just ran 26 miles I begin to weakly walk over to her. Clint comes in just after me and I can’t resist going over to high five him. If it wasn’t for my random high at the end I would have been right there with him but both finished under 4 hours, what we considered an accomplished goal for both running our first marathons. Clint walks straight over to the medic tent and continues his life of misery.
Jen and I walk around, me still reeling from the high of the race and my mind starts racing to the next race and then the next race. My body tightens quickly and my legs turn into worthless limbs that only cause pain. I spend the next 24 hours not sure if I want to vomit or spend another 19 minutes in the bathroom and I struggle walking down stairs for another week. Walking is a struggle to say the least the next day but it didn’t matter. It’s all temporary and just a really small price to pay. Even while borderline crippled and in sheer misery from all the caffeine, Advil, loss in every nutrient in my body, all I could think about was when the next time I could hear the words, “Run, run, run, run” while sprinting to the finish of another run, another race, another challenge.