I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier

After a lackluster half marathon three weeks ago my Marine Corps Marathon plans were left unsettled.   Play it safe or attempt a PB?   I left it up to fate.  Weather fate.  Friday and Saturday the ever-changing weather network predicted a combination of hot, humid, and sunny and I revised my time goal to survival.  Saturday was grotesque, the morning humidity zapping all energy and an afternoon storm that left me clutching me head with a barometric migraine.  Fast forward to Sunday morning.  10C with a nip in the air.  Although the temperatures climbed to 15C with lots of sun with challenging -but cooling- wind gusts, it could have been worse.  Way worse.  I knew the DC weather was a risk.  I prefer running in sub-10C, but with the low humidity the heat didn’t destroy me.  Hurdle #1, the weather.

I easily found my way to my starting corral, which was way too close to the canon for my liking so I hung back a bit.  I stopped for a last minute pee in the bushes (my first ever pre-race nature stop – there no time for the line and no port-a-loos at the front) where I used my handy mylar blanket to offer me a nugget of privacy.  A woman with very liberal personal space boundaries said, “oh yay, another woman”, and plopped herself directly in front of me such that we were peeing face-to-face as she babbled away about the masses of men lining the railroad tracks.  I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried to pee with a chatty stranger perched inches from your nose, but let me assure, it is not easy.  The only blessing, she was the one downstream.  Back to the corral.  Hurdle #2, the pre-race pee.

The National Anthem echos, the jets fly overhead, and the canon blasts.  The race begins.  Husband, who started closer to the blast, said his ears were ringing for the next 10K.  What can I say about the Marines?  The organization – from the expo to the aid station – was exceptional.  Their race support was phenomenal.  All my words are gushing.  This course is gorgeous.  The fall colours cascaded over the roads and trails and the entire city just lit up in the fall sun.  I was surprised by the quiet trail-like sections, I had envisioned a city-street course.  I loved the mix of parks, neighbourhoods, and big city sights.  The first 10K is hilly, but on fresh legs I rolled along.  The greatest danger was in sidestepping the wheeled participants who were given a scant 15 minute head start, fell behind on the uphills, then tried to pass runners at crazy speeds on the downhills all the while screaming move, MOVE!  I saw one crash and I suspect it wasn’t the only one of the day.  By the 13.1 mile mark I was exactly on pace and feeling groovy.  Hurdle #3, the half marathon.

The wind picked up during the second half of the race and I tried my best to draft behind the big guys.  Problematically, there were few big guys and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.  The course twists and turns, which is hard on momentum but great for wind – with so many u-turns I never had to run into the wind for more than a mile before getting a break.  The crowds were amazing.  Best sign: Don’t Poop Your Pants!  They obviously read my Spectator Guide.  In one spot there was water to my right and crowds up a hill about 20 deep on my left and a grand bridge straight ahead.  The course was so loopy I have no idea if this happened at 12K or 22K, but it was my favourite race image of the day and maybe even all time.  I’m not ashamed to admit I was overcome with happiness.  Just past 30K a man suddenly dodged in front of me before hurling up at least five gels on the side of the course.  I’m thankful he took to the sidelines.  Moments later the woman directly in front of me pooped her pants.  Yes, I saw it happen in real time.  I guess she didn’t see the sign.  She didn’t even hesitate, just kept going.  Make note, we had just passed an aid station for water for cleansing.  I am not that driven.  On the upside, I picked up my pace because I certainly didn’t want to be in range if round two followed.  Hurdle #3, the 30K. 

Now the race really begins.  The bridge.  The infamous Beat the Bridge.  For back-of-the-packers there is a time cutoff and if you don’t get to the bridge before the cutoff a sweep bus hauls you back to the finish line with the scarlet DNF on your chest.  The 1.5 miles along this bridge are the worst miles of the course.  You pass 20 miles just before the bridge, so the toughest bit of the course, the part of the race with it’s own scary name (The Wall), is on this bridge.  I hate that bridge.  That long, hot, nearly spectator free bridge.  I lost a little mojo on that bridge.  I hope someone found it and put it to good use.  The bridge was lined with the bodies of fallen runners stretching out cramping muscles.  The bridge took a toll.   Following the bridge is the blur of Crystal City’s bright flags and screaming crowds.  The two sections are almost comically different.  Crystal City brought me back to life.  And led back to one last long and lonely stretch of road before the race to the finish.  Hurdle #4, The Wall.

I never saw the 26 mile marker.  My Garmin was off by about .5K (maybe because of weaving and running off the tangents due to crowds) and I lost all sense of time and distance.  I searched for the mile marker but the huge crowds and competing signs confused my tired brain.  All of a sudden someone said it’s just around the corner.  And for once they weren’t exaggerating.  Yikes! I turned the corner to the hill, tried to power up, and off to my right was the finish shoot.  As I crossed the finish line a man thanked me for pulling him up the hill.  You’re welcome.  My finishing kick came a bit too late and I missed my goal time by two seconds.  That’s right, two seconds.  I didn’t realize I was that close - I certainly had another two seconds in the tank.  I did run almost perfect splits – my second half was just 16 seconds slower than my first half.  Not too bad given that soul-sucking bridge.  The marathon was a PB and will improve my 2010 Boston corral, so all in all a good day of running.  Hurdle #5, Finishing.

After a few post-race photos later Husband found me and we walked to the metro for the journey back to the hotel.  As we headed down into the station throngs of people were arriving to meet their loved ones.  We waited about 4 minutes for the train, but later heard horror stories from people who finished just 30 minutes behind us.  Hour long waits just to enter the metro station or 500 person taxi line-ups.  We returned to the hotel, showered, stalked people online, then headed back out for some touristing before dinner.  As we left some people were just getting back to the hotel.  We just missed the hours of standing around post-race.  Thank you to good luck.  We spent a lovely afternoon walking around DC with medals hanging around our necks.  Everywhere we went friendly people asked about the race and showered us with congratulations.  We capped the night with a marathon-sized dinner amongst my running-mates.  That was no hurdle.  That was darn good fun.

Title Reference: The Killers – All These Things that I’ve Done.  From the album Hot Fuss.  2004.