I ran a marathon Sunday; not really. In reality I participated in a marathon. I ran part of it but ended up walking (as quickly as I could) a lot of it. I've had a lot of people ask me why I wanted to try to run 26.2 miles. My response has been that it sure seemed easy back in November. That's when I committed to doing it. Besides, it's one of those things I always told myself I'd do in life along with racing a stock car on some local short track.
I was actually doing well in preparing for it. Then in January I ended up with a stress fracture in my right foot. After it healed I had every intention of resuming my training. You know what they say about the best intentions though. I never did run again until Sunday.
26.2 miles is twice as long as I've ever run before. I ran a half marathon three years ago. It probably was idiotic to try to attempt it. At least I finished. For several miles on Sunday I wondered if that was even going to happen.
I started pretty well. I never broke my stride for the first nine miles. Then I started to feel that pain come back into my foot. I knew it was that stress fracture. I thought about quitting at the halfway point but didn't. Once I made the turn to continue at the 13.1 mile mark the rain started and man did it rain.
I knew by the 15th mile this was going to be about finishing and not about how quickly I could finish. It was at about this point I quit seeing any other runners. The marathoners had just about all passed me. Those too far behind me to see must have been in really bad shape. All the half marathon runners had turned the other direction at the halfway point. I didn't see anyone else for almost ten miles.
It quit raining around the 22th mile. Just about the time I dried out it began to really rain hard and this time it stuck around until the end. At mile 24 a guy passed me who I had passed hours before. I tried to stay with him but there was just no way. Almost everything in me said to quit. I was hurting too bad. The pain wasn't just in my foot at this time. By now every muscle in my legs, arms and shoulders were hurting. I was feeling pain I'd never felt before. It makes sense because I'd never done anything like this before.
As I finished the last mile thunder and lightning joined the rain. The finish line was on the 50 yard line of Neyland Stadium which holds 108,000 people. I wondered if there'd be anyone in there except the race officials. After all it was late, the rain was pouring down and there was thunder and lightning. A bowl full of metal bleachers isn't the first place people want to be when lightning is flashing.
Then I entered the stadium. I can't remember if I felt more joy, pain, excitement or exhaustion. Just then I heard a woman's voice screaming. I remember thinking that was typical. I should have figured some nut would be out in that weather cheering on the back of the pack. Then I looked up as I came throught the tunnel. It wasn't just some woman. It was my wife.
She'd been there for an hour waiting for me. The few remaining spectators had taken shelter in the concourse under the stands. Lisa was the sole spectator in that otherwise empty stadium. Those last fifty yards were the easiest fifty yards I had run since the first fifty at the start of the race hours before. To my eyes and ears it looked and sounded like she was cheering an Olympic athlete who just earned his gold medal. Unbelievable. I'm not often truly overcome with emotion but I'll admit I was there. Those few moments made all the pain, exhaustion, hunger and near despair worth it. Those are the moments I'll never forget of a day I'd otherwise probably like to forget.
The foot still hurts and I'll probably have to wear a brace on it for a while. The rest of my muscles are already feeling better. That memory though will last a lifetime. Those are the kinds of moments we should live for.
Now if I can just find a stock car...
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