Wednesday, November 03, 2004

I finished!!

As I write this, the glow from my victory of completing my marathon has been diminished because I am so frustrated and disgusted at the results of the election. I wish I had written yesterday about my marathon experience so that I could express the full excitement of it all. But today I just feel so BLAH and upset and disappointed about the prospect of living under Bush for another four years that it's hard to get excited about anything.

But, I'll try.

OK, deep breath.

Onto the marathon!

It was wonderful! It was difficult! It was thrilling! It was agonizing! It was worth it!

Tons of people came out to support us including my parents, sister, friends from PSU (Jill, Jessica, Chris, Nick), Casey's mom and best friend from Mississippi, Dave and Madaleine, Meghan, Courtney, Vickie, and 100,000 other spectators! It was such a boost to see them throughout the race, even if it was only in passing. They had signs and words of encouragement and just seemed happy to be there.

My dad said it was more exciting than any sporting event he had been to. And my mom said she couldn't believe how many people were there running. It is quite an inspiration. What was also inspirational were the spectators and the Marines. Everyone was so encouraging. And since we wrote our names on our shirts, we personalized encouragement which was awesome. "Rachel, Casey, Jesse...you're doing a great job! Keep going!" Another guy I saw at the 20 mile mark said "Rachel, what is this? A walk in the park? You look great!" People kept telling Jesse he had a nice smile. And on the 14th street bridge (which was killer) there were people with signs that said "YOU'RE HOT!" At the 22 mile mark, spectators were handing out cups of cold beer, which made me laugh, but I didn't take any.

The marines were at all the water stations and they were so sincere in their encouragement, too. They took really good care of all of us runners. At around 18 miles, this one marine was yelling out "3 miles - that's all I can do! And look at you guys...you've already done 18!"

The runners were really in the spirit, too, especially since it was Halloween. We had the Madonna lady with the pointy boobs, the kermit the frog guy (his 12th year running the MCM in costume), the fireman (in full gear, including an oxygen tank on his back), and many other memorable characters.

People had lots of things written on their shirts, too. Things like "Running from the bus!" Or "I'm not getting on no bus!" which were referring to the bus that picks you up if you don't get past the 14th street bridge in time. If they have to open the road and you're not done, the bus takes you to the finish line.

The first few miles were so hilly and my IT band was definitely in pain. I didn't want to tell my teammates, but I was worried. Luckily, I had taken 800 mg of IBProfin and took another 800 at 9:30 and then Tylenol around the 15 mile mark, which luckily Dave had in his bag!

The scenery was beautiful but it was HOT. I think the high was around 79 degrees that day and it definitely affected everyone. They had 4 times the number of heat related injuries (including one guy who passed out on the 14th street bridge and split his head on the guard rail). People were even passing out in the metro stations afterwards. ("They're dropping like flies" said one metro station employee).

I was trying to soak in all the beauty, especially when we went around the golf course near the potomac. Leaves were blowing off the trees and all around us, we were in the shade, and the breeze was making little waves on the top of the water.

We all had our challenges during the race. My knee hurt at the beginning. Then Casey's head cold started moving to her chest, making it really hard to breathe, so she slowed down. Then, Jesse felt nauseous around mile 18 and started walking. So I kept going since I felt okay. I was worried that the pain meds would let up any minute and I'd be doomed.

Although I felt bad that we split up, I also enjoyed those last six-seven miles to myself. I mean, I wasn't really alone, because there were tons of people, but it was just me and my goal of finishing and the road in between. Jesse and Casey weren't there to tell me to keep going and encourage me. They weren't there to help me keep the pace. It was just me and whatever motivation I could muster up inside myself. My muscles started cramping up around mile 22, but I knew I could finish, so I just kept telling myself to go as long as I could and then walk when I needed to. And I just kept doing that. I was just in the zone and although it was very intense, it was also very calming. When you're that focused on something, it doesn't leave room for anything else. It's cleansing in a way...and it's hard to explain. Luckily, I never felt like I hit the wall...at least not until the last .2 miles.

The stretch between mile 25 and 26 seemed to go on forever. And when I finally saw the mile 26 marker, my legs were burning. Unfortunately, the last .2 miles are up a hill to the Iwo Jima memorial. With such a short distance to go, I didn't want to stop, despite the pain and cramping in my legs. But when I made it up the hill, there was still .1 mile to go...and I must have looked like I was about to cry or something, because this AIDS Marathon coach who was on the track ran up to me and said "You're almost there! I'm going to run with you for a minute, okay?" And I needed that! She ran with me around the bend until I could see the finish line. "You're going to make it!!" And so I pushed on, and stumbled across the finish line. Five hours and twenty-four minutes. Wow.

Meghan, Courtney, and Vickie said they saw me run up the hill and tried to get my attention when they were cheering me on. But they said I was really focused and didnt' see them. At that point, I couldn't be bothered with anything else.

I thought the finish line was a little anti-climactic because you don't even see anyone you know. But a Marine put the medal around my neck and then I wandered through the hospitality tent through some gross looking green juice and bananas and then eventually found my friends and family.

I've been riding high on that feeling for the past few days, through the soreness and then limping. But you know what's amazing? My knee DOESN'T EVEN HURT! I mean, other muscles are in pain, but not my knee. I have no idea what did it. Maybe it was Casey's mom who did this acupressure point crystal thing on me on Saturday night. Maybe it was the medicine. Maybe it is a miracle. Either way, I'm psyched.

So, bring on more marathons. Now that I'm done one, I can't wait to do more. And if you're interested, next year's Marine Corp Marathon doesn't even have a lottery...you can just get in. They want 30,000 runners for their 30th anniversary.

This year, the total number of registered runners was 22,666, the highest in MCM history. 16,987 runners crossed the start line and 16,499 runners made it to the Iwo Jima Monument to finish the race.

You can see my results here. I finished number 11,710. Yikes. And you can see some pictures here.

Okay, back to being depressed about the election. More on that later.




4 Comments:

At November 3, 2004 at 11:56 AM , Blogger Dave said...

Congratulations! You did it!

Don't let a bad election outcome steal your joy. Get involved in politics; a marathon is probably good training for an election campaign.

 
At November 3, 2004 at 3:02 PM , Blogger jen lemen said...

you've inspired me. i think i should try to do the race next year.

 
At November 3, 2004 at 11:23 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Congrats on the Marathon....I hope to do one in the future.

Jeremy

 
At November 3, 2004 at 11:48 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dont get mad about the election. Your age group, the Twenty Somethings, represented themselves at a measily 17% in this election. And this is after 42% were registered. What the hell? Why do all of you have Political Attention Defecit Disorder. Its a shame and embarrassment to our nation when so few of those so affected actually show up to participate in their nation's voice. Twenty Somethings do not have the right to complain or voice a concern for the next four years. Even if you did vote, your age group should be ostracized. No more crys for change when no one shows up. Its the new rule.

 

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