Worked Out

Wow. It's really the only word to describe the experience. Wow, because I knew it was going to be tough, but there was nothing (other than a previous marathon) that could've prepared me for how tough it really was. Wow, because of how great it was to be a part of it. Wow, because of how many people came out and supported their city's marathon. Wow, because I really can't believe I crossed the finish line.

Truth be told, I know I couldn't have done it without some great people that showed a lot of support along the way. Erica put up with 12 weeks of long runs, tempo runs, speedwork, messy porches, stolen water bottles, running theories and I commend her for that. My family, especially my parents and sister for being there at the end. And to the Bradleys... Hoffmann and Wise. I wish I could've been more together at 19.5, but I had just dueled with the devil and lost. And to Ryan... I should've heeded your advice and run my race.

As for the race, I wouldn't say it was the most organized thing (ie: bag drop), but I was able to find the 3:10 pace group... all the way the hell up front! And I finally settled in with about two minutes to spare... which meant there was no time for stretching and I'd have to warmup in the first miles. I like to be better prepared than that, but it was my own fault. We made it downtown in plenty of time. But the gun sounded and it was time to run... whether I liked it or not... and run I did. The miles passed easily in the cold air. I thought we had come out a little hot, but didn't realize it until about mile five when I heard a group of about four runners confirming their splits with each other... "Split!"... "7:03!"... "Split!"... "7:05!" I heard them bashing the 3:10 leader for running his group out so fast and before long, people were looking around wondering what the game plan was. I knew this was going to be my undoing as I like to start slow and give a good kick in the end. But there was no turning back at this point... we were nearly to the halfway point. After building up a nearly two-minute time bank, we crossed the 13.1 mile mark at 1:34:29... a PR for a half. So that meant I had to run a 1:36:31 to qualify.

Obviously, the second half didn't go as well for me as the first. I'm not sure when it was that everything kind of started to go south, but I was determined to make it to Hoffmann's with the 3:10 group. It may have been my undoing, but I did it. I stopped long enough to take a Gu and some water and I reluctantly hit the pavement... but much slower. I saw the 3:10 balloons up ahead and knew that if I wanted to have use of my legs for the rest of my life I'd have to give up on Boston and work on getting through the rest of this one mile at a time. The race became a point-to-point struggle, but I kept my legs moving. I would think of someone each mile to run for. It was when I was thinking about my Grandpa Alberts during mile 21 that an older guy came up beside me and struck up some idle conversation. We talked about past races, mostly his (this was going to be his 42nd marathon), and shortly before mile 24, he looked over and wished me well. Say what you will, but there's not a whole lot of doubt in my mind who sent him. The last two miles were tough, but manageable. I made my way by Goodale Park and into the Arena District on some shaky legs. I saw my mom on the right but missed the others. To say I was focused was an understatement. Right before crossing the finish line, everything kind of came back to me. They were out of the mylar blankets, but not far ahead was the older runner that got me through those toughest miles and I grabbed his hand and thanked him over and over for what he did... and then he gave me his blanket before I walked away. Whoever that man was, he's a saint in my eyes. 

So I was able to find my parents, Erica and my sister without much trouble. We sat in the sun and I did as much stretching as I could. We finally made our way back to Grandview. We stopped at Hoffmann's. I wanted to say thanks. Bradley Wise was still there and we headed out to lunch. The rest of the day was uneventful. We went to the grocery for a few things, rented a movie, ate pie and donuts (Thanks DT!).

So there's still work to be done. That's good. If you hit all your goals the first time, you lose out on all the experience, right? I'd like to help others get across the finish line the way that guy helped me. Run for a greater cause... for the ones that can't. There's a lot of people that do good things with these races. You can't always run for PR's. At some point, it's got to have more meaning. But an injury-free 3:15:52 is a good start.