Monday, October 28, 2013

Marine Corps Marathon - true grit

This was my “true grit” marathon –  I had some problems, I pushed through them, and I finished running up that last hill to the finish line.  I was in pain and severe discomfort for the better part of 12 miles, but I did it. The Marine Corps Marathon. The MCM. This is a medal that I feel very good about earning. And it's a great medal!

The MCM is the 3rd largest marathon in the USA, 8th largest in the world. The event does not shop or marque "elite" runners and there is no prize money. It is a runners marathon.

Something like 30,000 runners signed up and 23,513 crossed the finish line. I don’t know what happened to the 6,487 runners that didn’t finish, but I assume that some didn’t make it to the starting line and some didn’t make the timing cut offs across the 14th St Bridge across the Potomac or the intersection of 14thSt and Madison..  The timing cut off is necessary since they have to open up streets – after all, this is a really busy city and traffic rules!

The Marine Corps Marathon is an AWESOME event and I would love to run it again. Obviously, since it is a Marine Corps event, Marines are omnipresent. There are Marines at the start, on the sidelines , there are Marines running, some with full packs, and of course, Marines at the finish line.  I had Marines bark at me to keep going, encourage and help me when I was struggling, and patch me up afterwards. It was a great experience, even as painful as it was for me. But overall, this is an event steeped in honor for the tradition of the Marines and their service. It was inspiring to me to be there. I felt, I feel, honored to have had the privilege of running it.

This marathon began as they all do, lots of adrenalin and excitement at the beginning with the real event starting after mile 10. The picture to the right is the starting corral area - I'm ambitiously lined up among the 4:10 finishing group, yet I'm so far back that I can barely make out the starting line (the orange/red hoops waaaay past the green highway signs).

As we get going there is the rush of excitement as we run across the Key Bridge and through Georgetown (miles 4 through 6), and then around the edge of the Lincoln Monument. It is all very, very cool and very fun (for now).

Once past the Lincoln Monument I had been running for over an hour - which is fine - after all, I've trained for this, but the race is not even halfway done.
Then we enter a park area that takes us down to the end of Haines Point. Between miles 12 and 13 things become very somber as we ran down to the end of the Point – on the side of the road were placards with pictures of Marines that were killed in action in Afghanistan and Iraq, followed (I was told) by family members holding US flags. There were a lot of pictures and a lot of flags. A LOTof flags. It was very quiet as we ran past them, save for a few runners saying “thank you” to the flag holders. It was gut wrenching and emotional. These are the families of Marines that gave their lives to their jobs. How many of us are prepared to do that????

This picture is somewhere between mile 12 and 13. From my own critical perspective everything looks ok except that I seem to be clutching my fists - I'm not as relaxed as I would have wanted to be. Footwork look ok right now, but that will change.... I remember the guy to my right as being a pretty good guy.

My race plan was to stay at a conservative 10m/m pace and then begin to work on reducing my splits after the halfway point. For the first 13 miles I felt like I was running very much within myself and that I was holding myself back. All good. I totally anticipated that by the time I rounded Hains Point at around mile 13 that I could begin to reduce my splits to get closer to the 9m/m times that I’ve been training to. 

Unfortunately I started getting cramps in my left hamstring around mile 14 and then in both legs later. Having some experience with them, I instinctively knew where to rub and how to adjust my stride in order to manage the cramp, but they were persistent and would not go away. The irony of this is that I managed to get through all of my training, including my long, long runs without cramping and I was hopeful that I had figured out how to beat them (a combination of endurance and nutrition). So I was very concerned when the first onset of cramps came on.

It was in the low 40’s when I left the apartment, but the forecast called for mid-50’s around mid-day. A perfect day for running. I figured that we would be in the high 40’s at the start, so I opted to run in short running shorts and a couple of thin upper layers. For the period before the start I wore some throw-away pants and a sweatshirt which I got rid of just before the gun went off. Overall, I felt great and very comfortable, and anticipated a great day.

Unfortunately, my legs never warmed up. Even thought the temp went up into the low 50’s, I could feel that my legs were cold, cold, cold. And getting tight, tight, tight.  But I did not equate that tightness with the potential for cramps – I fully expected to them to warm up and loosen up.

Well, that never happened…

Around mile 14.5 I started to get the spasms in my left hamstring. I pulled off to the side right away, worked on it and felt like I had alleviated the issue, and got back into the game. But spasms kept coming back…  I began to realize that it was probably due to my legs being so cold so I started to look around for someone’s discarded pants (runners toss clothes that they don’t want to carry, but usually that happens in the first few miles), but no luck there.  I had a long sleeve shirt with me and I was considering some method of wrapping at least one of my thighs with it, but realized that I probably would not be able to keep it on very well.

Somewhere near the mile 18 marker I was in enough pain that I pulled into an aid station and asked them to tape up my leg.  The Marine medics helped me stretch my leg and applied some kinesio tape and that seemed to help a lot – for a bit. This pic is about a mile after that pit stop and I'm eating the banana that I had been carefully carrying - that is the Capital Building behind me - I felt good - I'm going the distance!!

Unfortunately, by the time I got to the 14th St bridge at mile 21, I was in trouble again.

BTW - throughout all of this, I had a great attitude, chatting with fellow runners, sharing comments with spectators. I've seen some other pics of me at marathonphoto.com taken in areas where I know I was in pain, but I have a smile on my face and I'm chugging on.

Oddly enough as I trotted through mile 20 I remember thinking “holy cow, mile 20 – I only have 6 miles to go!”. And then I hit the bridge…  There was no steep ramp or anything unusual about it – we basically ran in the HOV lane, which consequently is devoid of any sideline supporters (which were awesome by the way), but it was mile 20+, I was tired, in pain, and now both legs were cramping and in spasms. From the waist down I was soooo uncomfortable. My steps were short and quick, my pace down to around 11m/m.  I had gone through all of my change of stride tricks to help stretch out my muscles, but at this point there was no helping them anymore.  

I realized as I hit the bridge that I was going to have to grind this out like I never have before. For inspiration, I just looked across the river to Arlington Cemetery and remembered the gang of 4 Marines that I saw earlier trudging along with their full packs. If they can do it, I can do it. (granted, I'm easily 30 years older than they were..... but still)

I realized that this, the distance between where I was at the beginning of that bridge and the finish line, was the deep dark chasm that I-must-cross. I never once thought about stopping and hitching a ride to the finish line. It never crossed my mind. The only thing that worried me was how long it would take me. And naturally I thought “if I run, I’ll be done sooner….”, a familiar refrain of mine. But I was quickly getting to the point where I couldn’t run, and that was scaring the shit out of me. 

Around mid-bridge I finally had to walk, but oddly enough I was able to power walk. It was painful to run, but damn, I could power walk...!  I had plenty of stamina and endurance; I was just having a very difficult time running. I found that I was actually passing people who were “running”. 

At one point as I trudged across the bridge, alternating between power walking and jogging, I noted to a fellow struggling runner that this looked like our “bridge too far”; there were many, many runners up against the road side not running at all, or walking very slowly, or leaning again the road-side barriers for support, and all of us seemed to be fighting our own personal battle to get off this bridge. It was a sorry sight, yet inspirational in a  "I-will-get-off-this-bridge" kind of way.  What was also weird for me was the recurring thought "weren't these people ahead of me before???" 

The next gut-check moment came after we cleared out of Crystal City, which by the way, was a very welcome oasis of support after getting off the bridge.  I am certain that spectators looked at us as if we were zombies stumbling through their streets, but they did their best to amp us up. There was a group of spectators handing out cups of beer and tequila shots (not a good idea) – I have a feeling that most of it was being consumed by the volunteers!

But as soon as we left Crystal City and wound our way around the Pentagon it was as if we hit the desert again; devoid of spectators save for security guys and an occasional Marine shouting encouragement. We had two hard miles to go. You can tell from this picture that I am not doing well (I am on the far right). I am landing on my heels because I can't get my foot out in front of me. Interestingly enough, as uncomfortable as I was, I was passing the other runners in this picture... crazy, eh?

I continued to alternate between power walking and jogging and at one point was with a woman who was threatening to throw up at any moment (she didn’t) – I stayed with her for a while and kept engaging with her, hopefully to help her get her mind off of her own discomfort – and it kind of helped me too. For what it's worth, she recovered and scooted ahead of me, leaving me in her dust... 

At mile 25 I was a mess of pain from the waist down. Everything hurt: my quads, hams, knees, feet, ankles, calves - everything.  Plus, I was so tense from dealing with the discomfort that my entire torso was tight.  One mile and one hill to go and I continued to alternate between power walking and jogging, jogging more so that I could be done quicker. At this point I am concentrating so much on the mechanics of running that I have tuned everything else out. I am literally concentrating on surviving and running as efficiently as possible. I am in so much pain that I am numb.

Just before mile 26 the crowds were back. I hooked up with a guy (you can just see his elbow ahead of me) who seemed to have the same level of determination as mine. We looked at each other and we both said “we’re going to take that hill”. At the mile 26 marker I knew that I was there - the feeling is so powerful -  it is impossible to describe. It's mile 26 - 2 tenths of a mile to go. Just 2 tenths. C'mon baby, c'mon....

The final approach to the finish line is a slightly curved uphill grade lined with Marines and there is no way that I was not going to run up that hill to the finish line. No way. I totally put aside  my pain and discomfort and I ran that last 2/10 of a mile as hard I could, all the while saying “c’mon baby, c’mon…” with the Marines yelling and cheering for all of us to get up that hill all the while.

The emotions upon crossing that finish line is nothing short of incredible - It is totally indescribable - you have to run a marathon to appreciate it.  I wish that I could describe it. It is so, so powerful, the emotions are so huge.

As I stumble down the finishers area, I wind up in front of a Marine Captain who places my medal around my neck, steps back and salutes me – salutes me!? – and I’m thinking that whatever I just went through pales in comparison to anything that he and his compatriots have done. While shuffling down the finishers area there is another line of Marines  who are giving their congrats to the runners and all I could say was no, this is really all them, not me at all.

After getting water, a few necessary pictures with Marines and so on, I was in enough discomfort that I took myself to a med tent and let a Marine Physical Therapist help me out.  He and a female colleague worked on me, fed me salty chicken soup, and basically did what they could to alleviate my discomfort. I was soooo uncomfortable. Now that I was no longer moving my muscles were just cramping hard. I am in spasms and it was so painful…  but the good news is that they pass, life goes on, and I am good now.  I was able to walk around the finish area a bit, rescued my bag from the UPS truck bag check, put on some warmer clothes (I was freezing – a typical post long run thing…), found the Metro and went home, stopping by for 3 double cheeseburgers on the way. A reward for a tough day.

BTW, these pics with the marines were taken before I got to the med tent and belie the discomfort that I am in... You can't tell that I can barely walk, yet I am soooo thrilled for having completed the run that I am jumping up and down inside. I pushed my sorry ass through the miles and crossed the finish line. 

My finishing time was 4:57:40 – way beyond my 4:20 goal.  In my gender/age group I finished 396th out of 715, and 14,672 out of 23,513 finishers.  The guy that won did so in 2:21 (a 5:23m/m pace). The last person finishing did so in 7:22, a 36 year old woman, who persevered and FINISHED. I wound up averaging an 11:21 m/m pace. Not athletic material, but respectable enough given my circumstances.

Today, the day after, I’m a little stiff, but not too bad; my left knee is a bit sore, but all in all I am good. I will walk with Reece a good 2-3, maybe 4 miles, and then tomorrow do a very easy 2-3 mile run.

It was a great experience.  It was not what I would call a “good marathon”, but it was a marathon that grew me. Without a doubt this marathon has changed my life. I was not going to quit.I dug deep and I found that I had the grit to complete it.

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3 comments:

  1. Way to go Bill! I'm very impressed and very proud of you!

    Your Dad would have been very proud considering his sacrifice and military past. Maybe some of those leg pains were sympathy pains for all of the years he suffered after getting shot in the leg in WWII and the resulting Osteo issues.

    Way to go pal!

    Craig

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  2. Bill,

    Good job finishing even with the pain! The few marathons I have done I've had to walk a bit, too. Nothing wrong with that! Just keep on going and cross the finishing line. Good luck during your recovery time. I look forward to your next goal!

    Daniel

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  3. I am 48 and training for my first marathon in March (Little Rock Marathon) and I am a former marine. The Marine Corps Marathon is a must run event for me.

    About 8 months ago I was out of shape at 230 pounds and I decided run a PFT which as a 3 mile run. I was painfully slow with a time of 36 minutes. The run was a huge wakeup and I was motivated to change.

    Today, I am over 50 pounds lighter and logging about 35 miles per week. I have a half marathon in a week which I plan to hit 8 mins per mile...or get as close to 8 minutes as possible.

    You have a wonderful blog and story...
    Semper Fi

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