26.2

I completed my third full marathon this past weekend- October 5th. I ran the Lakefront Marathon in Milwaukee, which I chose because it was close to home- for the first time I was running a marathon after sleeping in my own bed the night before, and it was cheap- I think registration was in the neighborhood of $50 (although I could be a little off as I registered several months ago). Of course as per usual for me with these things, training started off awesome and then slacked a bit down the home stretch. I typically managed to get the running in, but didn't quite hit all my training runs in any given week during the last month or so, which means my total miles was down from what it should be. Now, I did complete a 20-mile training run prior to the race, so at least I had done some long mileage, but I wasn't feeling overly confident as far as training in concerned. The one thing I had going for me was that being in my home town, I am fairly familiar with the area and landscape that we were running. I knew a good portion of the run would be flat or downhill. I also figured that since I am very familiar with the roads we were running for the last 6 miles or so, that I would be able to envision the finish getting closer and keep myself going that way.

Well, my response to that is - HA! The joke is on me. The stretch of road from Silver Spring Road down to the Lakefront seems not so bad in a car- when you are running it, however, it is the longest and most boring area ever. Of course that is after already completing 19 miles that morning. My goal for this marathon was - I thought- rather simple. I wanted to break 6 hours. The last full marathon that I ran was the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati in May of 2006 and I completed it in 6:06. So, I figured that if I could beat that by a few minutes and break that 6 hour mark, I would be happy. The first 20 miles were great. Really. I was running my own race. I didn't try and stay with my friends who were taking a much quicker pace than I knew I could maintain. I just kept going at my own rate. I was running for 8 minutes and walking for 2 minutes. And I kept it up for 20 miles. My half marathon split was actually pretty good- 2:42, which is the fastest half marathon I've ever run. Even my 20 mile split wasn't bad. 4:24. Definitely slowed down in those 7 miles, but still should have been able to break 6 hours.

Then I hit "The Wall". Until I started running these long events, I had heard of the wall and thought that these people just obviously gave up at that point. Who trains for these things and then just stops and walks or quits altogether? Unless you have experienced this, there is really no good way to explain what the wall feels like. In my first full marathon- Disney in January of 2006, I hit the wall at about mile 18. Of course, I was competing in the Goofy Challenge, which meant that I had run a half marathon the day before, so my body was pretty spent. Mile 18 consisted of me trying not to cry and telling my running partner that I hated this. Finally, at mile 22, my body and mind, in combination, forced me to add a bit more walking. But, I finished. And I was pleased with just completing my first marathon. In Cincinnati, I felt great at mile 18, I even felt great at mile 21, despite some killer hills, but at mile 22, my body forced me to walk a good mile or so as the tendonitis that I had been fighting in my knee decided to flair up. Again, I made it to the finish, but had hoped to complete the run in a little better fashion. Now, this year was the year that I was going to keep to my 8 and 2 the whole way. I was going to keep going and not let anything get me to stop. Of course I was hurting prior to mile 21, when you push your body that far, pretty much everything aches at least a little. But, at mile 21, something in my brain just ordered me to walk. After going that far, there was no way I was stopping, although the thought did cross my mind. It was tough to keep going- getting passed by people now that I had passed a few miles back. Finally, after walking almost a full mile, I was able to start running again- at least a little.

My watch battery had run out a ways back and I was stuck with estimating the 8 and 2. Run for a couple of songs and then walk for one. Then it became, run to that fire hydrant, then walk to that stop sign. But, I kept going. Friends and family started calling to see where I was. I just kept telling them that I would see them soon. I finally saw the lakefront. Of course that meant that I still had another 3 miles to go. But I could do it. I got a little surge in me and thought I could run most of those last 3 miles and still break 6 hours. As I got to the base of the hill heading towards the lakefront, it started to rain. Just a little at first, but you could tell that it would get worse. Plus, the wind picked up, too. I was cold. And wet. I passed the mile 24 sign. The race volunteers were wonderful- still out there after all those hours, still cheering for you, telling you how great you looked (even though you knew you looked like hell). As I passed Bradford Beach, my running partner called. I told her I had 2 miles to go and would see them soon. I said I was hurting, but still going. I hung up the phone and suddenly I couldn't breathe. For the first time in my life, I had a full-blown asthma attack. It took a second to realize what was going on. I got out my inhaler (thank God I had it with me) and took a couple of puffs. I could catch a mostly full breath again. There was an aid station coming up, but I knew that if I stopped and told them what had happened, they would have made me stop. Dumb? Maybe. But, the lakefront, even in the rain was rather populated, so I figured that if I had more problems, I could easily flag down assistance. And I was so close. But, I had to walk again. Actually, I had to walk most of the last two miles. I was frustrated with myself and my body. I wished I hadn't walked so much earlier- then I would have a little more time now to work with. The rain had really picked up and I was thankful for my sunglasses, which were keeping my eyes shielded now. And hiding the tears I was fighting back. I was never so happy to see a finish sign.

Crossing that finish line didn't feel awesome or accomplished, it was just a relief. My official chip time was 6:06. Just missed. My friends and family were still there, even though my running partner had finished over 45 minutes before me. They all gave me big hugs and heading to the car, the emotions took over. Which brought on another asthma attack.

Now, 3 days later, I'm finally feeling good again. I had migraines for 3 nights in a row and I couldn't hold down food until monday morning. This one took more out of me than the others. Not sure why that is. I'm proud that I finished. I didn't quit. But, in the interest of safety, I'm going to have to carefully think about whether or not to do another full marathon in the future. I think some shorter distances may be called for at least for awhile. In the meantime, my training goal right now is to become the best couch potato I can be- for two weeks. Then I'll get back working out. Back to lifting and light running. Back to spinning classes and maybe even some swimming (I'd love to do a triathlon again next summer). And for one week, I am allowing myself to eat anything in sight. Big greasy cheeseburgers, onion rings, Doritos. Anything. Starting this sunday, its back to healthy eating. Re-evaluating diets, etc.