Friday evening, after a short trick-or-treating stint around my brother's neighborhood and a big spaghetti dinner, we all began to wind down. Our youngest fell asleep surprisingly well in the pack-and-play, and daughter and sick mommy went to bed in the "dark room," my brother's guest room, which has been decorated in support of his favorite pro football team, the Philadelphia Eagles, complete with black and dark-green paint and a black comforter and sheets. I then went upstairs to sleep alone.
After OKC, sleep was a big concern of mine. But surprisingly, I dozed off quickly and did not wake up again until around 2:00, and then, fell back asleep until my alarm went off at 5:30.
I got dressed, strapping one fun-sized Pay Day to my MP3 player arm band, and the other to my Blackberry arm band. I threw on an old fleece that I had planned to "donate" once the gun went off.
My brother and I left for Bass Pro Shops at 6:15. I was surprised when we arrived to see that there was not the huge mass of people that I witnessed at the starting line in OKC. As a matter of fact, no one was standing at the line. Sure, it was about 35 minutes early, but I still thought I'd see people vying for that front-of-the-pack spot.
My brother and I milled around inside Bass Pro Shops for a little while, and finally headed back outside, just as the announcer was encouraging people to line up. Incidentally, one thing I had realized (to my dismay) the night before was that indeed, there would not be guided pace groups. Despite my concerns, this did ultimately allow me to get a pretty good spot in the lineup, so I wasn't complaining. It was about 45 degrees, so I shed my fleece and handed it to my brother. (Maybe I'll "donate" it at the Route 66?) When I did, the two Pay Days I had painstakingly adhered to each arm band fell off. Nice. I ended up shoving one into each glove.
After the initial proceedings, the 10-second countdown began, and we were released, not by the sound of a gun, but by a lady who simply yelled "Go!"
I crossed the starting line at 22 seconds and headed out of the parking lot. The first few miles of the run were through an older section of Springfield--not especially nice, but not the worst I've seen either. I was able to get my Blackberry out and snap a picture of mile marker number one. "Just 25 more times," I thought to myself.Not too long after we turned off of the street leading away from BPS, I heard a voice behind me call out "Marathoners left!" I moved to the left side of the road and quickly came up on our separation from the half-marathoners. A left turn had us going due east, right into the rising sun, and the vision of fellow marathoners silhouetted against a tree-lined path that crossed the road ahead--a path that I knew had been allotted exclusively to full-marathoners--forced a lump into my throat and tears in my eyes.
The tree-lined path led to an adjacent township--I believe it was called Galloway. We quickly hit a tunnel that we had been warned about at the starting line. There was an inch or more of water standing in the tunnel for almost its entire length. We were instructed at the starting line to stay to the right, but that did not help much at all.
The path was supposed to loop out several miles, but was turned into an out-and-back last minute because of construction and weather. This allowed me to see the guy who ended up winning the marathon coming back the other direction. Obviously, it was the only time I would see him for the rest of the race.
I followed another marathoner who seemed to be keeping the same pace I was over the course of this section, which took us to about the 12-mile mark. I assume the guy's name was Josh, because as we would run by the pockets of spectators that sporadically lined the course, I would hear "Go Josh! Go Chris!" (Our names were on our numbers.) I also crossed paths with Mary from the Runners World group during this out-and-back. She was much more alert than I was, calling out "Tulsa! Chris!" All I could muster was a silent point.
After 6.55 miles, I texted my wife: "Qtr. Feel good." I had knocked it out in less than an hour, which pleased me, but also scared me a little, thinking about how my energy left me so quickly in OKC. The 7-mile marker was a pretty significant mile-marker for me, as that's about where I ran out of steam in OKC. The marker came and went, and I was still feeling good. At mile 8, I Gu-ed.
We rejoined the half-marathoners shortly before our halfway point. I texted my wife again at 13.2: "Half. Ok" I was starting to feel some tiredness, but was pretty happy to have been averaging around 9-minute miles up to that point. I finished the half in 1:56 and change, the best I have done with that distance. My reward to myself was my first Pay Day. I don't typically eat during a run, and the dry, salty candy bar was a little tough to get down, but I was glad to have the extra energy.
At this point, I would mention my only criticism (aside from the standing water throughout the course, which was out of the coordinating team's control) of the race: the water-station personnel. I hate to mention anything about it, because I'm simply grateful that they were there. However, they did seem to be...inexperienced. Some would stand very far into the track, and I noticed several who were balancing up to 3 cups in one hand, just asking for a spill. Several were holding both water and Powerade in the same hand, calling our "Water! Powerade," so runners did not know which cup to grab. That's all I'll say about that, because again, their role is so essential, and their willingness to volunteer is so appreciated.
At mile 16, I rewarded myself with my MP3 player (previously off) and another Gu. Once I hit Sunset and National (maybe around 17 miles in), I called my wife. I was instructed to contact her at that intersection because she, my kids, and my brother and his family, were coming out to cheer me on at the second out-and-back section a few miles away. It was the first time I walked (compared to OKC, where I was walking at 7 miles in), and I started back into a run immediately after we hung up.
At the 3/4 point, I texted my wife again: "Slowing down. Feet killing me" My shoes were really doing a number on me. I knew this would be a problem, as they had been problematic for me since we hit around 16 miles in our training. I added my inserts 2 weeks ago in hopes of resolving the discomfort, but they did not do much to help. I had always heard that Nike's were not great for distance, and I now believe it. I was under 3 hours, and I thought to myself that if I stopped right then and walked the rest of the way, I would still probably beat my OKC time.
I saw my family maybe 18ish miles in, and it was like a breath of fresh air. My wife and daughter ran toward the track while my 22-month old son stumbled around in the field adjacent to the track. I walked and ran to the end of this second out-and-back and turned back, glad that I now had a direct path to the finish line. My feet were killing me at this point, and I was taking walk-breaks at each mile-marker. I called my wife again to see if she would walk with me for a minute when I passed them again. She did, offering me needed encouragement during the short moment.
At 21 miles, I ate my second, squishy Pay Day. Things were looking a little more hopeful, as I had still not yet hit the 3-hour mark, and I was less than a daily run away from the finish. Unfortunately, my feet were hurting worse than ever. At this point, I was probably walking a quarter of each mile. At 24 miles, I got a little boost, realizing that it was the farthest I had gone since the last marathon. I was walking the inclines and jogging the downhills. Race workers wearing yellow vests would encourage us, calling out, "You're almost there!" I hit 25 miles, and it seemed I was still deeply buried in a Springfield neighborhood. Bass Pro Shops was nowhere to be seen, and I didn't know how it could suddenly pop out of this unassuming little neighborhood. We hit another slight downhill at about 25.7, so I began jogging again. Workers were calling out, "It's just around the corner!" but all I saw was the back of a what seemed to be a small building in a strip mall. I kept running to a huge banner that said something like, "26 miles...only .2 miles from the finish!" Where? Where was the finish line?? I still could not see how it could possibly suddenly appear.
I turned a corner around the side of the building, and I could hear cheers and a local band playing. Turns out, the small building was actually some sort of catalog order warehouse for BPS, and sure enough, I could now see the finish line. I kept running, and off to my left, I could again see my family cheering me on. I waved to them just as my wife took a picture with her phone.I crossed the finish line at 4:22:14, about 40 minutes faster than I did in OKC. I'm not exactly sure what my actual time was, as I forgot to push Stop on my Garmin until later, but based on the fact that I crossed the Start at 22 seconds, I would assume it was somewhere around 4:21:52. The website results show only the time from when the lady yelled "Go!" to the time I crossed the line, so I guess I'll never know my time, line to line.
After crossing, a race volunteer placed the medal around my neck--a huge bass with the marathon wording inscribed on its body. My brother was waiting for me just across the line, and after a congratulatory hug that helped keep me upright, I got my finisher's hat (which was a surprisingly cool reward) and an apple, and I headed to the car with my family.
The experience was infinitely more rewarding than my OKC experience, and I was extremely happy with my finish. Today, I am nursing a sore left foot, but aside from that, I feel great, and I definitely foresee being completely rested up and recuperated for the Route 66--now less than 3 weeks away.
11-1-09
Distance: 26.2 miles
Time: 4:22:14 (gross)
Avg. Mile Pace: 10:01
