The hotel phone rang loudly and startled Maura and I out of
our anxiety ridden sleep at 4am. It was
early, too early, for that. But, it was
necessary if we wanted to make sure the morning went smoothly from here
on. We started fueling and getting
dressed; clothes, race fuel and watches all laid out meticulously as to allow
for every ounce of thinking to be spared until later on.
A new starting line location meant taking a shuttle to the
start. This would prove to be our first
mental stress of the day. What should
have been a 15 minute drive turned into over an hour in traffic, with an upset
stomach and having to pee badly. The
long ride allowed for avoidance of the sub-freezing temps but the anxiety of
the delay was hardly worth it. Finally
we pulled in and I was able to quickly find a restroom, allowing to finally
focus on the race at hand.
Maura and I found a place to warm up and while wearing trash
bags to keep warm we broke out into a small dance party to warm up. A local newsman waved us over and we got to
be a part of the local news that morning, showing off our sweet dance
moves. Maura even got to do a short
interview!
From here it was time to get serious. We made our way over to the start and towards
our corrals. It’s always hard parting
ways before a race. We hugged and
kissed, telling each other how proud we were of each other and reminded
ourselves that we were here for something greater than ourselves, and today was
to be enjoyed no matter what.
My corral was the first one.
Here I was, similar to 2011, standing near the start line, surrounded by
the best of the best. I wasn’t nervous;
there was a quiet confidence this time.
I knew I was ready, but I wouldn’t let myself acknowledge it. I had put in the work, time to execute. The cops lined up, with their lights flashing
as the national anthem was sang. It was
very emotional, but I was keeping it bottled up. I was in the zone, all emotion needed to be
compartmentalized until needed later in the race.
The gun fired, the confetti fell and we were off. 10,000 people all moving together, stride for
stride, like a heard through the plains of Africa. It was surreal. This is why I run without music. Cowbells rang, and a crowd of pink cheering
on both sides as we made our way out of the starting area and out into town.
Within a couple miles I found myself running with a man
named Dan, a Jax local, and my new friend for the next 13 miles. The wind was tough, gusting up to 25mph out
of the north when we approached the beach.
We tried to find some people the draft with but no one was running our
pace. Out of nowhere, another local,
someone Dan knew, appeared in front of us.
He was “cooling down” and was all about blocking for us for the next two
miles! We ran in formation the next two
miles, angled off our new blocker, trying to save energy for later. We picked up an “elite” female, Lydia, along
the way as well. She was a Jax local
also. Once we made the turn off the
beach, our blocker left and Dan and I took turns taking the lead as we
continued north. 5 min I would lead,
then he would lead. I felt like a real
runner, executing a strategy on the fly.
This is stuff I’ve read about and seen in movies, but never experienced.
I felt like I belonged! We passed
through beach communities, people with coffee, signs, banners across the roads
in between the houses, music playing, it was great. Dan and I talked about how you don’t get this
in any other race. The support needs to
be experienced.
Around mile 13.1, I was dead on pace, 1hr 30min, a 6:54
pace, and the mile markers were in sync with my watch. I felt like I was running effortlessly but
was losing Dan and Lydia. I made the
decision to keep going my pace and within a mile I met a new friend, Drew,
another local and frequent Ironman athlete.
Drew and I ran together, joked and chatted for the next 7 miles. I took this opportunity to ask him questions
about Ironman training, which kept me from thinking about my tightening
hamstrings and filling bladder. This
section was mostly small neighborhoods.
Families out in the driveway with coffee and their kids handing out
oranges and pretzels, sometimes nothing more than a little old lady smiling and
waving. I tried to say “Good morning”
or “thank you” to everyone I could see. Sometimes
a full on tailgate going on with music would be going on, either way, the
support was better than any fuel or Gatorade I could consume at that
point. They didn’t have to come out, it
was cold, it was windy, but they respected what we were doing and the overall
cause, so they took on their role today with pride.
All of the sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lydia,
she had caught up to us. The three of us
ran together, starting to get back into the sections of town with tons of fans
and support. Bands, cheer teams, tons of people. I felt good as we approached mile 21, but I
was starting to feel “it”. Drew
eventually dropped back and together Lydia and I took on downtowns
boardwalk. I kept telling myself “if you
can’t tough it out for 5 more miles, you don’t deserve to be up here”.
I knew the hardest stretch was still to come, but I couldn’t
remember much about it. My average was
still sitting around 6:55/mile, so I just needed to keep steady. Then, the bridge happened.
The last 6 miles are tough enough as is, then combine that
with all the half marathon people that are walking and it’s chaos, which
someone in my situation did not need added to my day. Lydia opened up a 40 ft lead on me as we ran
up the exit ramp and onto the expressway.
I didn’t care, let her go, I needed to keep pace. Mile 23…….up in the air of the
expressway…..100% exposed to the 20mph head wind, and fighting through
walkers…..not good. I checked my watch
constantly, I was now at 6:56 and my last mile was 7:09. My mental state was slipping and I was
staring ahead at a long, tough, bridge.
All I had to do was get to the top and I was downhill to the end. Mile 25 was 7:29, pace was now 6:57, I was
losing ground. The wind was so tough it
felt like I was running with a sail on.
I considered a short walk but knew I’d never forgive myself if I did so
I convinced myself to keep moving. Just
get to the top. I did math in my head
incessantly. “ok, I’ve got 1.37 miles and enough time to do it, but you can’t
slip” I kept telling myself. I was
afraid if I knew I had time, I’d use it, and in my carb-depleted state, a math
slip could cost me everything. Just
run. I got to the top, the crowd was
enormous, Journey “don’t stop believin’” was blaring and I had .6 miles to go
and time to do it. I felt like a
snowball slowly picking up speed as I picked up speed going down the bridge,
yelling “RUNNER, PLEASE MOVE”……I barely had enough energy to go forward, let
alone dodge walkers. I did appreciate
constantly hearing “wow, he’s really moving” as I passed, that was good
motivation. Down and around the exit
ramp and there it was….the finish line.
Lined with people on both sides cheering, a sea of pink awaited. I knew now was my time, and I gave it all I
had left. I saw the clock ahead and with
every step it became more clear to read…….I was gonna do it!! I held off all emotion for 26 miles, and now,
with nothing able to stop me and knowing I was going to break 3:05 easily, I
took a moment to look around and take in my surroundings and finally let it
in. As I crossed the finish line, arms
up and a smile on my face, I couldn’t help but yell “I did it!
I finally did
it” as I crouched down and started crying.
It was like I had been holding up a wall all day, letting emotion and
pain pile up against it, and I finally backed away and let it all out at
once. I looked around and embraced the
moment, complete strangers clapping and congratulating me. It was amazing. I found Lydia and as soon as she saw me she
smiled and gave me a big hug, saying “Thank you so much, I couldn’t have done
it without you” which made me feel really good.
I turned around and there was Drew, and we shared a fist bump and
congratulations. Never did see Dan, but
I saw he finished at about 10 min back. Wish I could have seen him to shake his hand
too. I think the one thing that always
keeps me coming back is the people. I’ve
run 4 marathons now, and with every one of them I’ve met new people, and
sharing the pain and glory of running 26.2 miles with a complete stranger is
something amazing. You don’t know them,
but you do. You know their pain, you
know their dedication, you know their fire to compete. It’s not crazy, its sports J And that’s why I keep coming back and why
after a couple weeks of “I’m never doing
that again” I always find myself in front of a computer sculpting my next
training plan and finding the next race to compete in.
Maura didn’t fare as well, a bad hammy and the late onset of
a chest cold had her struggling most of the day. Oh, and a “Stage 5 clinger” that ran off her
hip, jabbering away for most of the race didn’t help. She finished though, and even though it
wasn’t in the time she wanted, she was happy.
That’s all that mattered today and so, to me, she ran a perfect
race. And sharing that with her made my
day even better than could be expected.
I can’t wait to share all these experiences with her, forever and
ever. We’re each other’s biggest fans, and
that’s pretty awesome if you ask me.
