"When I run, my mind and body fuse together, creating an energy source that empowers me. It is my private time, my therapy, my religion". (Gail Waesche Kislevitz, " First Marathons")
Let's face it: It's not every day you get to take part in an activity that promises to be one of the most significant experiences of a lifetime. When I look at my life, the memories and images that come immediately to mind are connected with extreme awe, extraordinary beauty, love, and significant personal achievements. The personal achievements that are most prominent upon my mind's landscape tend to be connected with physical achievements such as climbing my first "14er" in Colorado, solo backpacking along the Continental Divide for several weeks or running a certain distance for the first time. It is a curious thing how some memories are retained while others are less clear ending up in the dust bin of "all those other times". For instance, I can distinctly remember running in the Van Cortland Park Invitationals (by New York City) while on my high school's cross country team in 1975. I clearly remember a very steep section of the course where a passing runner said, "use your arms!! Pump 'em!!" as if this happened yesterday. I still use his advice! It is now some 35 years since I ran cross country in high school and while I have been down many "roads" along the way, running has always been there...like a best friend I could always count on. I have always loved running even though there were long periods of time when running was not a regular part of my life. I knew it was there and I could always return to it. Once running again, my mind is flooded with many years of wonderful memories. Running does that for me. In many respects, running my first marathon was the natural culmination, the logical outcome of a familiar way of life. Completing my first marathon was a very powerful and profound experience for me.
“Being a runner means you are now "free" to win and lose and live life to its fullest.” (Bill Rogers, 4 time Boston Marathon winner)
I'm not sure when I first decided to run a marathon. I remember hearing about the Boston Marathon in high school but thought "those marathon runners are totally out of their minds" and didn't give it any further thought. Fast forward 33 years or so. I had just finished running a half marathon with my niece, Odessa, in San Francisco in February of 2006. On the BART train over to brother Mike's house, Odessa asked (with a slight grin), "So, Uncle Kev...how about running Boston?". The half marathon had really wiped me out but I kept replaying the word over and over in my mind....
"Boston".....?? Wow. The ultimate for all marathon runners.
After limping my way back home from San Francisco and recovering, BELIEVE ME....a marathon was the last thing on my mind. Out of curiosity, I did some research on the Boston Marathon and quickly learned a runner must have a "qualifying time" to earn a spot in the race. You don't just sign up and run. Running Boston is a privilege that is earned and at that point in time (2/2006), I had a long way to go. True, entrants can also earn thousands of dollars in charity and get in the race via that option but as a runner with long term goals.....I wanted to qualify --plain and simple--and earn the chance outright. To do so, I would have to finish a marathon in less than 3 hours and 35 minutes, the standard based on my age and gender. Given the steady progress I've made with running over the past 2 years, I decided it was time to give it a shot and chose the Colorado Marathon as my qualifying race--my first marathon.
"If you want to run a mile, then run a mile. If you want to experience another life, run a marathon" (Czech Olympian, Emil Zatopek, gold medal winner of the 5,000, 10,000 and marathon in the 1952 Olympic games).
After a long drive to Ft. Collins on Saturday, May 3rd, we settled in at the hotel and I tried to get to bed around 8PM for a few hours of sleep. All week long, the predominant thought on my mind was, "I'm running a marathon on Sunday", an ongoing mantra of excitement, fear, intimidation....a recitation of the great unknown. I had a few 20 mile training runs under my belt but a recent sprained ankle and a case of laryngitis/bronchitis accentuated the question marks...the "what ifs" of the final miles. Only 4 days before, I considered pulling out given my coughing bouts. Fortunately, a strong run on Wednesday of that week was all I needed for a "GO". I awoke the morning of the race at 1:45 AM. Nora slept soundly as I got my gear together and departed for the 4 AM shuttle to the starting line way up the Poudre River Canyon west of Ft. Collins.
Poudre River Canyon
The bus ride took forever which led to some anxiety. It was hard to believe I was about to run the distance the bus I was on had just traveled. We disembarked on a remote section of road in total darkness with temperatures in the mid-20s. Man, it was soooooo cold!! After all the buses arrived, there were about 900 of us aimless refugees (albeit, refugees in very good shape) awaiting the 6:15 start time. I busied myself by walking, chatting with other runners and taking in the calming effects of the gem-like Poudre River. About 30 minutes prior to the start, I jogged an easy mile or so and did some light stretching. I felt good. I ditched the sweatpants but kept wearing some upper layers, a wool hat and gloves for the first few miles. FINALLY......27 months after Odessa's first Boston comment, here I was at the starting line.....looking down the canyon's empty and tranquil roadway...the first rays of morning light to the east, beckoning....about to run my first marathon when I honestly thought to myself, "why am I doing this?". Certainly, not one of my more heroic moments for sure but when you're about to run 26.2 miles, you wonder. Suddenly, the mantra came back......, "BOSTON!!!" and all self-doubt was gone. I was absolutely determined to obtain a qualifying time to run in the Boston Marathon...far and away, the primary objective of this experience. The mayor of Ft. Collins gave the countdown.......and all of a sudden......."I'm here.......I see the front-runners moving.....I'm beginning to move....going forward...tiny steps growing to bigger steps.....jogging to running....it is happening now.....yes, we're picking up speed.....I'm running....accelerating to "race pace"........I'M RUNNING A MARATHON---ALL SYSTEMS GO!!!"
Talk about an "in-the-moment" experience. Nothing compares.
STARTING LINE TO MILE 21: It makes sense to break this run down into 2 sections: The first 21 miles and then the last 5 miles to the finish line. Poudre Canyon offers a gentle downhill grade for the first 16 miles. Runners have to be careful not to go out too fast as they may pay dearly later on. I set my sights on running about a 7:00/mile pace and try to be as mindful as possible of how I was feeling. I was keenly aware that everything after mile 20 was "uncharted territory" for me so I had no idea if I was making a big mistake----should I run it slower...faster??? So many questions. A 7:00/mile pace on a gradual downhill is actually quite comfortable for me so I stuck with it. Mile-after-mile, I was right on the mark...feeling very comfortable. The scenery was just breathtaking (no pun intended) and I felt strong striding through the half marathon mark in 1 hour and 34 minutes. The biggest challenge in the first half was removing my extra layers as quickly as possible and tossing them to the side. By mile 5, I was in my shorts and strap-T. It was so cold out that I skipped the first aid/water station. I also carried my water bottle as I ran so I didn't worry about skipping. At about mile 16 or so, another runner asked me if I was aiming for a 3:10 finish. I answered that I hoped for something around that time but since this was my first marathon I didn't know what to expect and hoped I wasn't making a mistake with my pacing. We bid adieu and returned to our private focus. That was the only conversation I had during the run. At the end of Poudre Canyon...where the course turns towards Ft. Collins, a huge crowd had assembled at a well-known spot for spectators. I couldn't believe how many people were there cheering us on. That was sure wonderful after 16 miles of solitude in the canyon and it really inspired me. At mile 18, I was thrilled to see Nora (who took the picture above) and a friend cheering me on. It was a little tricky passing all the half-marathon walkers I had caught up to but I felt very good and was moving along at about 7:03/mile pace.
"Anyone can run 20 miles. It's the next six that count." (Barry Magee, marathon bronze in Rome, 1960)
MILE 21 TO FINISH LINE:
NO S%$T BARRY!!!
I read about it and researched it. I had heard the stories...both stunning and frightening. I gathered as much information as possible so I could understand the reality of it and, hopefully, prepare as best I could to avoid "hitting the wall", a phenomenon where some unfortunate marathon runners simply run out of all available fuel (muscle glycogen) after mile 20 and shut down quite spectacularly. Suddenly, down the road, there it was: a small nondescript white sign sublimely stating, "MILE 20". This was big and I knew it. The marathon, as it is said, begins at mile 20. When I passed that sign, I said out loud to myself, "HERE WE GO". A spectator yelled out, "ONLY 10K to GO!!!" Wow, that amazed me....only 10K......but this was no ordinary 10K. I was pumped and I pulled out a 7:10 for this mile. At mile 21, the course left the asphalt roadway and continued on a bike path leading through several parks towards downtown Ft. Collins. The first part of this pathway was a very rough, bumpy and uneven black asphalt pathway that was definitely in need of repair...weeds growing out of small holes. You get the idea. I'm thinking, "Who's bright idea is this?" Thinking of my recently sprained ankle, I had to seriously attend to my footing and, this is hard to explain, this simple event shook me right out of my head-space and mental focus. Once on an improved path, I attempted to refocus but couldn't regain my previous pace as hard as I tried....slowing to 7:45 or so. The weight of running for 2 hours and 30 minutes was beginning to descend upon my mind and body. The effortlessness with which I had run the first 20 miles was a thing of the past...water under the bridge. I am not exaggerating when I say I now found myself in the midst of the greatest challenge of my life. Nothing I have ever done or felt since I have been alive compares with the effort required to complete the final miles. While I didn't "hit the wall" by any means, it took every bit of mental focus to keep running a relatively decent pace. Each mile seemed to last an eternity but the spectators were increasing in numbers (just where I needed them!!) and the cheering was a godsend and I knew from my overall time that, barring a sudden injury, I was headed for a "BQ" (Boston qualifying time). This all kept me going. I passed many runners in those last few miles.....quite a few appeared to be hitting the wall and it was really sad to see them so close but off to the side--some unable to walk....some who had obviously given up....some who had just flat out quit. I couldn't even look at them...I didn't want to make eye-contact. It's one of those, "There, but for the grace of God, go I" realizations. Whether it was the God's grace and/or many months of proper training, I kept going.....closer and closer to the finish line. Although I was running near empty, I had no injuries or sprains or joint issues. I was "only" fried to exhaustion! About a half mile from the finish, I started to seriously perk up on what must've been pure adrenaline! I could hear the large crowd at the finish line cheering for the finishers and that was AWESOME!!! I heard someone yell, "one more right hand turn and you'll see the FINISH LINE!!!". The right turn made and there it was, "FINISH" on a huge banner a mere 2 blocks away. The whole downtown was lined with cheering spectators. About a block from the finish, ONE OF THE BIGGEST SMILES OF MY LIFE CAME OVER MY FACE and I flashed a double-thumbs up which brought on an even louder cheer from the crowd! Euphoric beyond words, I crossed the finish line at 3:12:06, with 22 minutes and 54 seconds to spare for my BQ! One of my first thoughts over the finish line was, "I am a marathon runner". So many miles I had run...so many months I had trained.....to earn the right to say those simple words. "I am a marathon runner".
I looked around for Nora who is always at the finish line to cheer me on. I turns out that she and my friend from Point got stuck behind a large, slow moving train coming across town and were delayed getting there so they missed my finish. Oh well, there will be many more to come.
Finishing stats:
Time: 3:12:06, 7:20 per mile pace
Overall finish: 46th place out of 900 starters (686 finishers)
Within age/gender class (men, 50-60): 1st place (ahh, the benefits or recently turning 50!)
For now, it's time to take a short break and let the body recover from this huge experience. This promises to be an eventful year for me as far as running goes. In addition to some small-scale regional half marathons, I'll be running in the New York City Marathon on 11/2/08 and I think you know where I'll be on 4/20/2009.
Hope you enjoyed the read.
Kevin
"The marathon will humble you".
(Bill Rogers, 4 time Boston Marathon winner)
Kevin & Nora following the Dolores River 10K