|
Steph's Marathon Adventure:
Disclaimer: I wrote this story shortly after the marathon, while still experiencing a "runner's high." Looking back now, I realize it's so full of proverbial cheese that readers may experience irregularity. Continue at your own risk.
It's Marathon Day! I'm one among 6000+ crazy runners gathered well before the break of day. Even freezing temperatures and the smell of 50 port-a-potties were not enough to dampen that unique feeling of fear/anticipation that only a runner appreciates. There's a quick gathering with some team members (comparing our cool washable longhorn tattoos), some parting good wishes and then it's off to the starting line. Countdown, the horn blows, 6000 watches beep (including mine) and we are off!!
I don't know if the first 6+ miles really pass more quickly, or if they are just erased by the overwhelming impression of the last 6. Either way, I don't remember much about the beginning; just a beautiful sunrise, a brief chat with an older fellow about his 70+ marathons, and a steady 6:50 reading on the watch with each mile.
Miles 6-12: By now I'm warmed up, loose, and cruisin'. Keeping a even pace, thanking the nice people who came out to cheer -- these miles pass easily beneath my steady stride.
The half-marathon relay point is always fantastic. People are lined on both sides of the road, a live band plays to the tempo of your feet, and you know you're halfway home. Hey, there's Tim Ridell! High Five! Thanks Tim!!
Mile 15: My patient and supporting husband, Greg, waits on the roadside with our dog KC. I'm feeling the first twinges of fatigue by now, and seeing my boys puts a spring in my step. I want to make them proud.
Miles 18-20: East Austin, not much to see, the crowd has thinned, and the fatigue twinges are now longer than the intervals between. The little monster of fear and doubt is nipping at my heels and the distance between the mile markers grows dramatically. 6:55, 7:07, 7:09 - seems like lead weights in my socks are dragging me down.
Miles 20-25: The battle of the wills is in full swing. That little monster has caught me by the ankle, crawled up my leg, and latched onto my brain! Chest burning, legs smarting, this is where stubbornness is really an asset: "I will NOT stop, I will NOT stop."
Mile 26: Entering the park. It's only a mile, but it's a long one. I hear my name and look to see my parents have come unexpectedly. There's Greg again, and his parents too. I'M GOING TO FINISH THIS THING! The little monster is banished by a surge of confidence. Unfortunately the surge doesn't drive away the pain, but it makes it bearable. Just concentrate on form -- Right, Left, Right...
The Finish Line: I cross the finish line. I hear my name. I know it's just one name among 6000, but for that moment, it's all mine. And for a split second I know without a doubt, that indeed, I can accomplish just about anything I set my mind to. This is a confidence that will overflow into many other areas of my life.
Summation: Two years ago, due to multiple lung collapses, the docs relieved me of a
portion of my right lung. At that point, I wondered if I'd ever be able to climb the stairs again without getting winded. They said to exercise, so I started running. Three months later I amazed myself by finishing my first 5K. Last year I ran my first marathon, and this year, I finished stronger than ever! I hate to say it, but
the nasty lung problem resulted in one of the most positive changes in my entire life. The UT team this year has been GREAT!! A more diverse group of positive people would be difficult to find. We've all come a long way since September. Congrats all, and thanks for the encouragement and fun.
|