Sunburst in South Bend, Indiana
IN THE BEGINNING
Six months after I had quit smoking and taken up running I was ready for my first race, a large 5K in Chicago that started immediately after the start of the Chicago Marathon. I was excited to be doing something like this. I had lost weight, quit smoking and started living a healthier lifestyle and this race was a treat to myself. I savored the ritual of pinning my number on and "carbo loading", things that were previously so foreign to me. I can still recall the first time I wrote "5 miles" in my training log and felt like I had slain a dragon. Five miles! Whew!
I had no idea how much my life would change on that chilly October morning. I only hope that I can convey to anyone who reads the following story a small portion of how magical the experience has been for me. On that October morning, there was a death and a birth. My negative, insecure self died on the streets of Chicago and in its place a dream was born!
Before the start of the 5K, I was standing at the ½ mile mark watching the marathoners run by. I was in complete awe of them. The look of determination and focus on their faces reminded me of warriors going off into battle. The crowd cheered wildly as they went by and there was a smattering of comments by spectators such as, "They must be insane." "I could NEVER do that.", etc. At that point, I made a vow that I would one day join their ranks. I checked out the U.S. marathon calendar and picked the Sunburst Marathon (June, 1992) in South Bend, Indiana as my race.
First off, I can’t stress how much Jeff Galloway’s "Book of Running" assisted me. He addresses the basics (training/nutrition/injuries/misc.) for those of us who don’t have a clue. His book also includes several marathon training programs for various fitness levels. I picked the second easiest plan which basically had me slowly build up my long, slow run from 12 miles to 28 miles with some speed work (but nothing too Sadistic).
At the time, I didn’t live close to any trails and had to resort to running the same mile horseshoe route on a local street - over and over and over. The people who lived on these streets got to know me well and I would get an occasional thumbs up or wave from a passing driver. The training for this marathon really built up my character as well as my fitness level. I would get home from work and a long commute and not feel like lacing up my shoes and heading out to the street. I, however, was determined. More determined to do this one thing than I had ever been in my life. If the weather was cold and/or rainy (and it often was), I would just bundle up until I looked like the Michelin Man and get out the door and JUST DO IT. The challenge of the marathon is not only what you experience on race day but all the training that leads up to it.
I would run approximately 5 miles per day except for Saturday which was my day of rest. Every other Sunday I would run long and slow. I went from 12 miles on that first Sunday and built up to 28 miles three weeks before the marathon. This is all detailed in Galloway’s book.
The first few times I had to run over 18 miles, I would question whether I could do it. It just seemed so damned far to run. Fortunately, my husband would meet me in the later stages of my long runs with Gatorade or hard candy. He has really been a tremendous source of encouragement to me. He’s definitely my number one fan and understands that sometimes running is going to interfere with our home life.
THE FIRST MARATHON
The day before the race, my husband and I drove from Chicago to South Bend. From the minute we blew into town, I was on an adrenaline high. It was great going to the expo and picking up my race number and T-shirt. All around me were people as crazy as me, all hell bent on covering this distance.
I ate a good pasta meal that night and holed up in the Motel 6 with my husband. Being the master of preparedness that I am, everything was laid out for the race so all I had to do was wake up on time. Somehow I managed to get to sleep at a decent hour that night and not have dreams about showing up at the race naked.
THE STARTING LINE
Even though it was June, it was very cold that morning. I didn’t know enough to wear a garbage bag so I shivered in the middle of the pack at the starting line and stretched in place as best as I could. There were a few runners around me that had run this marathon before and were warning those within earshot about a couple steep hills at the end. The camaraderie at the start of a marathon is just another perk of the distance. No matter if you are the winner or come in dead last, you covered the distance and regardless of how long it took you to do it, it is still quite an achievement. There is a great mutual respect and friendliness that I have encountered in the marathon community. I think it’s because we don’t race against each other, we race against ourselves.
Before I knew it, we were standing in silence listening to the national anthem. I felt like a soldier being called into battle. I was excited, nervous and proud. After months of training and sacrifice, I was finally here! The gun sounded at 6:00 a.m. sharp and we were off! This race starts on a side street on the campus of Notre Dame and finishes on the 50 yard line of Notre Dame stadium.
MILES 1-10
The first ten miles were fun! It was great to have people I had never seen before cheering me on. I felt something for the first time in my life. I truly felt SPECIAL!
I maintained focus and stayed on pace well. I was concerned that I wouldn’t feel too good at the start but things were going smooth (no leg cramps, blisters or diarrhea). In this part of the race, runners are not hurting and are still pretty relaxed so there is some colorful conversation taking place. War stories are swapped and humor is passed around like an elixir.
MILES 11-20
This was not as much fun! My knees and feet were starting to hurt. This course included concrete, asphalt and cobblestone and I think the various surfaces may have strained my knees a little. Regardless, this was pretty much the same pain that I had endured on my long training runs and I knew I could do it.
The weather warmed up nicely, but not too warm. The sun came out and I was able to enjoy some of the sights as we ran along the river and through parks.
At about this time in the race another runner was in my small pack. His name was Rich. Unfortunately, I don’t remember his last name. He was about 30 years older than me and was a marathon veteran who had background similar to mine (former smoker, weight problem, etc.). As my discomfort grew, he encouraged me to keep going and was telling me what a good job I was doing. We were together for about 5 miles but I wasn’t able to keep up with him. He wished me luck and said he would see me at the finish line. I just grimaced and pushed on.
MILES 21-26
Ouch! But a sweet ouch! I remember my legs feeling like lead and wishing the race was over. At mile 23, a vision appeared before me. It was my husband! There is nothing like seeing a familiar face in the later stages of a marathon to pick up your spirits. I was so happy when I saw him, that I got choked up.
There were hills at the end of the race and I distinctly remember cursing the race director for planning the race this way. It seemed so cruel! I had to stop a few times to stretch my legs out but I knew that if I had gotten this far, I would certainly finish.
THE FINAL .2
As I returned to the campus of Notre Dame, my legs felt fresher with the thought of crossing the finish line. I managed to pass a few people and wound my way around the last of the course. The volunteers were cheering me on and telling me, "Only a little more to go! You can do it!".
At last, I passed the mosaic of "Touchdown Jesus" outside of the football stadium. A nun was smiling at me, waving me into the tunnel. I turned in and before me was one of the most beautiful sights I would ever behold. The grass on this historic field was so green and sooo soft on my legs. The sun reflected off the stands that would normally be packed for football. I felt like I was entering a great coliseum.
People lined the last yards of the course and the finish line was in sight. I sprinted with all that I had left (wasn’t much) and crossed the finish line (4:28:00). I couldn’t believe it. I DID IT!! I ran a marathon!!! Rich, the mystery marathoner, was there with his wife and both hugged and congratulated me. (I haven’t seen either since that day.)
I grabbed a donut (the best I have ever eaten) and searched out my husband. It was great just to fall into his arms. He was so proud of me and spent the entire day reigning praise on me. I don’t think a gold medal winner could have received better treatment than I did.
THE POINT
This experience changed my life. It showed me that I can do anything! I can make the sacrifices I need to make (getting sleep, less partying) for the sake of training and I have what it takes to convert that training into a good race.
All I really wanted when I first laced up my shoes was a way to keep busy so I wouldn’t start smoking again. I got so much more instead!
I have run about 12 marathons and have a goal of one day winning a marathon. It may not be the Boston or NYC, but instead some small jerkwater town race. Some may dream of a corner office, I dream of what if feels like to have the tape snap across my chest as I cross the finish line. To have more training time, I quit my 40 hour a week office job and juggle two part time jobs. (I would have made a great heiress!) This may sound obsessive, but I assure you, if you saw me on my morning trail run all you would see is a woman in an obvious state of joy.
See, now aren't you motivated to go out and run a marathon!! You can do it!!!
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