This week I’ll be posting about the top five lessons I learned from the Rock ‘n Roll Arizona Marathon, easily one of the most exciting days of my life. Today’s entry is a post of the events of the day.
Sunday, January 17th, 2010
3:57 am Wake up after a great night’s rest. Ready to roll in fifteen minutes, but the race doesn’t start for three and a half hours. I twiddle my thumbs for roughly two of those hours.
6:05 am Watch the start of the Dean Karnazes (one of my heroes) UltraMarathon, for people who don’t think 26.2 miles is enough to run in one day.
7:15 am Pee for the twentieth time. I promise I wasn’t nervous, just overhydrated.
7:30 am Drop off my extra layers at the gear check courtesy of (shoutout alert!) UPS; shiver my way to the starting line.
7:40 am Starting gun sounds. On my way out I chuck up a peace sign to Senator McCain. He proceeded to ask for my autograph. I told him after the race.
Photo Provided by Competitor Group: http://arizona.competitor.com/photos/
8:45 am Mile six. I’m feeling great. Plenty of water and knockoff Gatorade at the “Elite Athlete Fluid Stations” (or fold up tables lined with thousands of Dixie cups), and tons of encouragement from the crowd–more on that in a post later this week.
10:04 am The halfway point. Pace has slowed a bit, but overall glad I didn’t chicken out and drop down to the 1/2 marathon (not that there is anything wrong with the half for those that trained for it). Fun fact alert: 27,000 people ran in the marathon and 1/2 marathon. The ratio of people in the half to people in the full: Over 4 to 1.
11:27 am Eat too many peanut butter pretzels from someone in the crowd. The deliciousness slowed my pace.
11:48 am I finish dreaded mile 19. I’m not sure what it was, but mile 19 and I did not mix well. In fact, we still have beef. Walked most of this mile due to hitting a pretty major wall (figuratively, not literally, of course).
12:37 pm Guy about my age gets hurt on mile 24. I encourage him to push on because we’re so close. He steps to the side, but thankfully, eventually finishes.
1:08 pm The finish line is in sight. I can see the goal. I inevitably kick it up a knotch, mostly to pass this lady who was complaining about spectators crossing the street, as if it was going to throw off her world record setting five and a half hour finish time (frame of reference: the winner crossed the line in 2:10).
1:13 pm Done. Finished. Fin. It’s all over. The feeling was totally indescribable. I came in about an hour later than I anticipated, but it didn’t even matter. I was blessed to cross the finish line injury free in 5:30:40. I cried. I smiled. I couldn’t believe it. Easily one of the most rewarding experiences I’ll ever encounter.
The Cost: Two pairs of shoes run through. Round trip plane tickets. Hotel room. Merchandise. Registration. Seven months of training stretching hundreds of miles. Blood, sweat, and injuries in preparing. Freezing my cajones off training in the winter in Akron.
The Reward: Accomplishing a goal that seems unbelievably far off when you begin. Seeing prayers answered when you finish. Experiencing an unreal amount of support and encouragement from your friends and family. The most emotional and bittersweet feeling when you cross the finish line, knowing you’ve accomplished what you’ve prepared for, and also knowing you’re going to have to push harder and further beyond your limits to get that feeling again.