I don't know why it's so hard to write about the marathon. I don't view it as a traumatic event, but here we are four months later and this entry has taken a long time and a lot out of me to write. Something happened in the marathon. Something happened inside. I think I broke myself. Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
The marathon was at Boulder Beach on Saturday, 6/26/2010. I wanted to do the marathon because I started working out on 7/3/09 and I started running in early January 2010, so if I somehow managed to do this it would be less than a year from the time I started working out and less than six months from the time I couldn't run 30 seconds. I hadn't trained -at all.- I wanted that for myself, and through sheer will alone I was going to do it. Sure, I could fail, but I had to try, and there was no time to train. I'd rather show up and fail than never having shown up at all, and I still feel that way. Show up and do what you can, when you can. I learned about the marathon I think not too long before the actual event. I was active, going to boot camp and taking classes at the gym, but other than boot camp I didn't run.
Running With The Devil Marathon runs along Lake Mead in Boulder City and is so named because the temperatures are in the 90's-100's. Right in the middle of summer. It's not just a marathon, it's a hot marathon. Not the kind of marathon they advise for a first-timer. It started I believe at 10a, fairly late because they wanted the sun to be nice and hot for us. Most events start at 6a or so.
I woke up early and had all my supplies ready from the night before: fanny pack with 10 protein bars, iPod with my marathon playlist, carb chews, electrolyte pills, and cell phone (I never run without my cell phone fully charged, never know what may happen, especially when I'm running in the middle of nowhere, but I tend to not be ON it while I run). Race materials. Boot camp shirt, bandanna, and dog tags. CamelBak. I was good to go. I decided that the extra weight was worth it, that I'd rather be over-prepared.
I got there with over half an hour left. I weighed in and then went back to the car to relax before the race. 16 of water down, port-a-potty visit, retie shoes, check my supplies. All good.
Race time. We bunched up as a group and took a picture. Then it was off, nice easy pace to start. There were stations every three miles or so, with a weigh-in halfway to make sure you didn't lose 4% of your body weigh or you were disqualified. Lose 2% and you had to rehydrate yourself before continuing. The stations were interesting. I brought supplies to be self-sufficient and only stopped to refill the CamelBak, but by the end, I was so grateful they were there and I was sitting, drinking, eating. I got so excited when I saw gummi bears. And ate a lot of bread with peanut butter. The bananas were kind of gross because of the heat and so were the potatoes and salt so I skipped them.
Right at the beginning within the first 2-3 miles something was wrong. I felt kind of dizzy but I didn't know why. Ate a protein bar. Took an electrolyte pill. Ate a carb chew. Drank some water. Then I felt well, so ONE of those things helped. That was the only protein bar I ate. They were too "heavy" to run with. I like that, trying to figure out what's wrong by listening to your body and fixing it. I didn't felt unwell the rest of the marathon. And right towards the beginning my knee was hurting (which it had been doing for a couple of weeks) but I massaged it briefly and it held up well. I was going to wear a knee brace but I decided against it as I felt it added too much bulk and restricted mobility. I WAS wearing an ankle brace.
I ran a total of 14 miles, so I ran a full half-marathon. I will add times later but I got there about 3.5 hours after I started. I actually GAINED weight mid-way, which I guess it's ok. You don't get disqualified for gaining weight. I didn't go to the bathroom until very late into the marathon and I think I only went once, maybe twice, and not really because I had to go but because I could not be certain I wouldn't need within the next three miles and I didn't want to go on the side of the road.
I don't know why I stopped running at mile 14. My body just knew. I think that's my biggest strength, I know when to push and when to back away, so I'm not really worried about pushing my body. Then I had to get back to the car, 12.2 miles away. It was going to take hours, and I was not looking forward to it, but sometimes it's harder to quit than to keep going. So I started walking back. Up to that moment I really truly believed I was going to run 26.2 miles out of sheer will. I was going to do it. And I don't quit. When I run a race I'm either going to faint or finish. So far I've finished. I get into that I'm going all-out mentality where -nothing- will stop me. It really started with that run to the wall in boot camp. The floor or the wall. Collapsing or the finish line. There's no in-betweens. So for me it was very hard to start walking. Because I couldn't say I ran a marathon. I've amended it to say I've completed a marathon and then explain I ran 14 miles and walked 12.2, and I incidentally ran my first half-marathon. One day I will run 26.2 miles straight, it's just a matter of time. And it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I really think that if the distance had been half a mile longer I wouldn't have made it. I used to think you could walk forever. I was wrong. I really think I went beyond what my body could. People said I could have died. I say yeah. And see, the thing is, you don't really WANT to die. You don't really think you're going to die. And you're probably not going to die. There's ambulances. The body will shut down (faint) probably before any long-term damage is done. People at the rest stops will stop you from continuing. There's many contingencies. Do people die at marathons? Sure, but it's very uncommon. And what people don't get is that this is the same as rock climbing or motocross racing or even trick bicycling. It's about pushing against something and having a little bit of risk. It's about going against nature, and winning. Heck, my dad died at home going down the stairs. And people tell me I'm chasing death with all that I do, that I'm looking to join him. And that actually is as far away from the truth as you can get. By dying the way he did he left me with the ability to overcome fear. When I was about to skydive from the plane yeah I thought I could die, but what was I going do, go home because home is safer? Dad showed me that you can't be afraid of life because death can come anytime, anywhere, and in any shape. So live life. Fully. And all of this has actually allowed me to live life like never before. I've lived more in the past 16 months than in the previous 31 years of my life. So no, it actually isn't about having a death wish. All of this is about having a life wish. I'm sick and tired of laying in bed at home being scared of life. I'm going to go out there and experience it.
Another thing that people fail to realize is that it has been 16 months. How reckless can I be that I have done a lot of crazy stuff and I'm still in one piece? And that's where we come back to knowing when to push and when to pull back. Have that ability and you feel secure in that whatever happens, you'll make it out intact at the other side. It can't ALL be dumb luck, I'm sure my actions have carried me a long way in being safe and healthy. And, after all, if I die or get injured then I can't do the next crazy thing, and it's all about the next crazy thing.
So I started walking at mile 14. It was going to be a long way home. Then came Mile 17. Something happened on Mile 17. I was going to get to the next rest station and I was going to ask to be driven back. I was done. Close to five hours by then. You had to finish the whole thing within ten hours. I was finished. I was ready for the experience to be over. Hey, I ran a half marathon, so I got THAT out of the day. Debbie, who never quit, was throwing in the towel. I wanted to go home and forget this marathon had ever happened. I had enough adventure for a while.
Then, all of a sudden, I realized that I had just climbed this monster hill, the worst part of the course, and, within half a mile of the station where I was going to quit, I was ok. I could finish. It was then, around mile 17.5, that I knew I was going to finish. I didn't think I was going to finish, I knew I was going to finish.
I'm glad I had nail clippers with me. I kept using them trying to get rid of a nail until I figured out the pain was actually a bit of skin that had rubbed off, and was a bit raw. Sat at the side of the road clipping a handful of times. Somewhere after the half-way mark (I think) I gave away all the protein bars, they added too much weight. First I left some at a table then I dumped the rest on another table at a different rest stop. I didn't drink much, but then again I'm not a big drinker, I go on one-hour runs without water all the time. Next time it's just me and the CamelBak, I feel secure that the rest stops will provide all the nourishment I need.
Oh, and the electrolyte pills. It is my belief that those electrolyte pills are what allowed me to finish. They were a lifesaver. Who cares if it was mental or physical, I think they really helped. I started with a schedule, two electrolyte pills and a carb chew every mile, then whenever I felt I needed one, then towards the end I stopped taking them. I may just take them as needed next time. The carb chews, which I had in the fridge since the day before so that they were nice and cold, were a gooey hot mess by midway. Nothing to do about that during a marathon called Running with the Devil.
When I was within 0.80 miles of the end, another runner collapsed (but was still conscious). Something about his calves locking up and he was done. I offered him carb chews, electrolyte pills, but he said no, it was too late. He was doing the 50 miles and he got stuck and unable to finish and picked up by ambulance 0.80 miles from the end. Me? I would have been rolling to the finish line. You don't need your calves to roll.
Towards the end I started sitting at rest stops and I realized I was going to burn, bad. I hadn't put on ANY sunscreen and I literally could feel my calves sizzling and people kept exclaiming at how pink they were, and around mile 20 I started getting sunscreen put on by others at rest stops. I could barely move. There was this other runner who was about to get a special prize by completing a certain number of Calico Racing events and he didn't think he could finish. I told him that all I had waiting for me at the finish line was going to work that night, that he could at least look forward to a prize. He did finish, in over 10 hours.
I finished in 9 hours and 15 minutes. When I was going through the finish line someone cheered and I gave a little whoop, but I didn't feel it. You're supposed to feel this rush of euphoria at finishing your first marathon, but I felt nothing. I had nothing left to feel with. There was nothing left inside, no energy to form emotions with. I got in the car and went home after picking up my medal. It was time to go to work.
In the next entry I will discuss the repercussions of the marathon. And believe me, there were many. But to this day, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I asked myself when I stopped running where was the Debbie who never quit. It turned out she was there all along. I truly believe I gave it all I had and more and it took me to the brink and back. And that's an experience that lasts you for a lifetime.
