Marathon Recap
This post is dedicated to my friend and training partner, Terra, without whom I’d have ever been able to accomplish this incredible milestone. Thank you, Terra, for helping me dig deep when I didn’t know I could. Thank you for listening to me, putting up with me, forgiving me when apologies were in order, and thank you for reaching for the stars with me! We went the distance, girl!!
GETTING TO THE MARATHON: We decided to go up the day of the expo, where we were to pick up our race materials. I had gone to bed early Friday night and we slept in somewhat, as I was not anticipating a lot of sleep Saturday night. Once we were up and rolling, we moved at a steady pace. A quick, celebratory breakfast at Cracker Barrel, and we were on our way! Unfortunately, our pace came to a screeching halt when a fatal accident on I-4 meant a 2+ hour delay for us (resulting in a 4-hour trip!). The road was closed at one point, and many of us milled around on the highway until it re-opened. When it did, we made fairly quick time to the Wide World of Sports complex, where the expo was held. I quickly worked through the lines to collect my race bib and Champion Chip, then started down toward the exhibitions to get my race shirt and discovered I’d lost my bib!! Frantic, we retraced my steps and found it in lost and found, but the error cost us a great deal of time and prevented me from touring the expo. We rushed to our hotel (Port Orleans Riverside) for check-in, and to my team meeting. The breathlessness and anxiety were both a good release and a concern: Were all of these problems just a bad omen??
PASTA PARTY: We loaded the busses: my husband and three sons, my training partner’s husband and four sons, and her parents. We were brought around the back of Epcot – behind the countries – and let out. We wandered, dumbstruck, through a special entry into Epcot. When we reached the event hall, we were greeted by cheering and noisemakers by our TNT staff members. I don’t know about Terra, but I think that’s when everything hit me. We were here. It was happening. Starting right now. We had a great meal and an inspirational program, and then headed back to the hotel. After doing some last-minute things which we shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to do (and which took longer than a minute!) we headed to bed. We set SIX alarm clocks to insure a 2:30 wake-up!
SUNDAY, JANUARY 9, THE DAY WE’D BEEN ANTICIPATING SINCE THE END OF AUGUST: Five out of the six alarm clocks greeted us, and we dressed quickly and got on the move. At 3:40am we loaded the busses to the start, our nerves jangling, our anticipation rising, but our smiles quick. Once at the staging area, we started moving in a huge, slow, leaderless pack toward our corrals. It was eerie and exciting. We found our corral (C), and stretched, danced to the music and took it all in. Time went quickly, and soon it was 5:55 AM and time for the wheel-chair start. At 6:00, fireworks replaced a traditional shot-gun start, and Disney characters waved us through. Soon enough, we were at mile marker 1. My mind started playing tricks with me when the official clock read 00:15:00. Fifteen minutes for the first mile?? We’d never make this!! Panic set in. Terra reminded me that there had been a delay to the start, and assured me we’d re-figure our pace at mile 2. And then suddenly, there it was – mile 2! Eleven minute miles – right on pace. Satisfied and happy, we settled in, cheerfully making friends, taking in the sights, remarking at our stamina and feeling very, very good. One by one we picked off those first miles – 3, 4, … 9. We ran through the Epcot parking lot and spotted our cheering families. Boosted all the more, we turned our enthusiasm to the upcoming Main Street, USA stretch, just after mile 10. At mile 10 the thing I’d worried about most came to pass; the only problem was, it came 7 miles sooner than I expected. It was my knee – it hurt, and it hurt badly. I kept it to myself for about ¾’s of a mile, but just before we rounded the corner to Main St. I told Terra. Mom that she is she said, “Well, there is no crying in The Magic Kingdom!” We turned the corner and WOW! Imagine, you’ve decided to run the Disney World Marathon. Imagine, following your dream, training your heart out, getting up at 4:30 in the morning to run around the block a few times all in anticipation of this moment. If you’ve been imagining this for four months, more than likely this – this – was the moment you’ve been imagining. And to top it off, there they were, cameras in-hand, water at the ready: Our families. The pride that they wore was evident, and Terra’s mom was crying. It was a magical moment in a magical place. We moved on, through the park, around Tomorrow Land and through the Castle. We carried on, running with “the half-ers” as they’d been called – those blessed runners getting ready to cross their finish line. We kept hearing “almost done” – and those words intended for them cut into our psyche and morale. We cheered their accomplishment as they broke away from us and suddenly we were on our own. Down past the Grand Floridian where staff members dressed as brides and grooms cheered and called us by name. Down to a desolate road which smelled of sewage. At mile 14 we were offered BioFreeze (which I took copious amounts of and then slathered over every exposed muscle). Pre-marathon reading taught me that “the teens” would be tough. I was prepared for tough, but this was tough. Terra was strong as an ox, working me past the pain that screamed at me from my knee, helping me fight through the mental shut-down that I was experiencing. She could have easily picked off many runners at that point, and I still feel bad that my weakness might have led to her own experience “in the ditch”. The stop-go-stop-go I was calling for took its toll on her, but I was afraid my body wouldn’t let me make the trek if I didn’t rest it. It was frustrating and unpleasant, but we worked on. At mile marker 20, my spirits lifted. A 10K remained, that was all. Remembering how I’d loved the 10K we’d done Thanksgiving Day, I set the course and my spirits began to soar. True to our training, my improvement coincided with her decline. Seeing that she was taking a bit of a mental dive, I forced myself to get out of the ditch and to pull her with me. We both took a dive when we reached what I’ve heard another marathoner call “the road to hell” – a 2-mile turn-around point between Animal Kingdom and MGM. Right before that turn-around, though, I had run into a TNT coach from another team. He read my face and knew I wasn’t “right”. I complained about my knee and he worked the pain out somewhat. Then he offered to show me a simple stretch, which my mind could not grasp. My struggle prompted him to suggest salt, which I consumed like the salt before a tequila shot. That fortuitous encounter easily bought me the rest of the race – renewed, we ran toward MGM and the last miles of the race.
MILE 23, 24, 25 and 26: These miles were hard to achieve. Beginning at MGM – the 5k mark – we started to hear “you’re almost done!” “You are almost done” to a vacationing family from Kansas standing there with Mickey ears and a fanny pack is not the same as it is to a marathoner. We were not “almost done” until we could see the finish line, and that was still miles away. We had to keep regrouping: We are just running through Heritage Springs (6 miles), just a quick neighborhood 5k (3 miles), just one quick loop around the neighborhood (1.7 miles). Still, the mind games weren’t helping. We trudged along… out MGM, through the Boardwalk, alongside a resort pool full of splashing people. Down the walkway from the Boardwalk to Epcot, the soft, pliable wood a welcome relief to our sore joints and muscles – and suddenly, the ball was in sight. That ball: our goal! Into the park, we began to run country to country: Germany, China, Mexico. Each step was agony, each goal marker harder to reach. Past the ball – where’s the finish??? Then suddenly – MILE 26! I burst into tears – which were expected – what I did not expect was the fact that doing this while pushing my cardio system would cause me to almost hyperventilate. Oh wow – what if I hyperventilated and passed out at mile 26 and got carried in? I caught my breath, and prepared for landing. We passed a robed gospel choir singing as hard as we were running, turned a corner and there it was – the finish line. We did it. WE DID IT!!
ALL WE WANTED: My sister called as I was receiving my medal – which was fantastic. It felt like she was with me. Chuck called shortly thereafter and I got the impression it would be many long minutes before we saw them. We were heart-heavy – all we wanted was them. But then suddenly, there they were – our cheerleaders, our supporters, these men and children who’d sacrificed their wives and moms for all those hours of training. Those parents and husbands and children who’d spent an unseasonably hot January morning chasing spectator spot after spectator spot with throngs of other onlookers. That moment was all we’d ever wanted and we basked in it. We took pictures and headed off to The Rain Forest Café for a celebratory meal.
We did it. We did it we did it we did it. And it feels so good.
GETTING TO THE MARATHON: We decided to go up the day of the expo, where we were to pick up our race materials. I had gone to bed early Friday night and we slept in somewhat, as I was not anticipating a lot of sleep Saturday night. Once we were up and rolling, we moved at a steady pace. A quick, celebratory breakfast at Cracker Barrel, and we were on our way! Unfortunately, our pace came to a screeching halt when a fatal accident on I-4 meant a 2+ hour delay for us (resulting in a 4-hour trip!). The road was closed at one point, and many of us milled around on the highway until it re-opened. When it did, we made fairly quick time to the Wide World of Sports complex, where the expo was held. I quickly worked through the lines to collect my race bib and Champion Chip, then started down toward the exhibitions to get my race shirt and discovered I’d lost my bib!! Frantic, we retraced my steps and found it in lost and found, but the error cost us a great deal of time and prevented me from touring the expo. We rushed to our hotel (Port Orleans Riverside) for check-in, and to my team meeting. The breathlessness and anxiety were both a good release and a concern: Were all of these problems just a bad omen??
PASTA PARTY: We loaded the busses: my husband and three sons, my training partner’s husband and four sons, and her parents. We were brought around the back of Epcot – behind the countries – and let out. We wandered, dumbstruck, through a special entry into Epcot. When we reached the event hall, we were greeted by cheering and noisemakers by our TNT staff members. I don’t know about Terra, but I think that’s when everything hit me. We were here. It was happening. Starting right now. We had a great meal and an inspirational program, and then headed back to the hotel. After doing some last-minute things which we shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to do (and which took longer than a minute!) we headed to bed. We set SIX alarm clocks to insure a 2:30 wake-up!
SUNDAY, JANUARY 9, THE DAY WE’D BEEN ANTICIPATING SINCE THE END OF AUGUST: Five out of the six alarm clocks greeted us, and we dressed quickly and got on the move. At 3:40am we loaded the busses to the start, our nerves jangling, our anticipation rising, but our smiles quick. Once at the staging area, we started moving in a huge, slow, leaderless pack toward our corrals. It was eerie and exciting. We found our corral (C), and stretched, danced to the music and took it all in. Time went quickly, and soon it was 5:55 AM and time for the wheel-chair start. At 6:00, fireworks replaced a traditional shot-gun start, and Disney characters waved us through. Soon enough, we were at mile marker 1. My mind started playing tricks with me when the official clock read 00:15:00. Fifteen minutes for the first mile?? We’d never make this!! Panic set in. Terra reminded me that there had been a delay to the start, and assured me we’d re-figure our pace at mile 2. And then suddenly, there it was – mile 2! Eleven minute miles – right on pace. Satisfied and happy, we settled in, cheerfully making friends, taking in the sights, remarking at our stamina and feeling very, very good. One by one we picked off those first miles – 3, 4, … 9. We ran through the Epcot parking lot and spotted our cheering families. Boosted all the more, we turned our enthusiasm to the upcoming Main Street, USA stretch, just after mile 10. At mile 10 the thing I’d worried about most came to pass; the only problem was, it came 7 miles sooner than I expected. It was my knee – it hurt, and it hurt badly. I kept it to myself for about ¾’s of a mile, but just before we rounded the corner to Main St. I told Terra. Mom that she is she said, “Well, there is no crying in The Magic Kingdom!” We turned the corner and WOW! Imagine, you’ve decided to run the Disney World Marathon. Imagine, following your dream, training your heart out, getting up at 4:30 in the morning to run around the block a few times all in anticipation of this moment. If you’ve been imagining this for four months, more than likely this – this – was the moment you’ve been imagining. And to top it off, there they were, cameras in-hand, water at the ready: Our families. The pride that they wore was evident, and Terra’s mom was crying. It was a magical moment in a magical place. We moved on, through the park, around Tomorrow Land and through the Castle. We carried on, running with “the half-ers” as they’d been called – those blessed runners getting ready to cross their finish line. We kept hearing “almost done” – and those words intended for them cut into our psyche and morale. We cheered their accomplishment as they broke away from us and suddenly we were on our own. Down past the Grand Floridian where staff members dressed as brides and grooms cheered and called us by name. Down to a desolate road which smelled of sewage. At mile 14 we were offered BioFreeze (which I took copious amounts of and then slathered over every exposed muscle). Pre-marathon reading taught me that “the teens” would be tough. I was prepared for tough, but this was tough. Terra was strong as an ox, working me past the pain that screamed at me from my knee, helping me fight through the mental shut-down that I was experiencing. She could have easily picked off many runners at that point, and I still feel bad that my weakness might have led to her own experience “in the ditch”. The stop-go-stop-go I was calling for took its toll on her, but I was afraid my body wouldn’t let me make the trek if I didn’t rest it. It was frustrating and unpleasant, but we worked on. At mile marker 20, my spirits lifted. A 10K remained, that was all. Remembering how I’d loved the 10K we’d done Thanksgiving Day, I set the course and my spirits began to soar. True to our training, my improvement coincided with her decline. Seeing that she was taking a bit of a mental dive, I forced myself to get out of the ditch and to pull her with me. We both took a dive when we reached what I’ve heard another marathoner call “the road to hell” – a 2-mile turn-around point between Animal Kingdom and MGM. Right before that turn-around, though, I had run into a TNT coach from another team. He read my face and knew I wasn’t “right”. I complained about my knee and he worked the pain out somewhat. Then he offered to show me a simple stretch, which my mind could not grasp. My struggle prompted him to suggest salt, which I consumed like the salt before a tequila shot. That fortuitous encounter easily bought me the rest of the race – renewed, we ran toward MGM and the last miles of the race.
MILE 23, 24, 25 and 26: These miles were hard to achieve. Beginning at MGM – the 5k mark – we started to hear “you’re almost done!” “You are almost done” to a vacationing family from Kansas standing there with Mickey ears and a fanny pack is not the same as it is to a marathoner. We were not “almost done” until we could see the finish line, and that was still miles away. We had to keep regrouping: We are just running through Heritage Springs (6 miles), just a quick neighborhood 5k (3 miles), just one quick loop around the neighborhood (1.7 miles). Still, the mind games weren’t helping. We trudged along… out MGM, through the Boardwalk, alongside a resort pool full of splashing people. Down the walkway from the Boardwalk to Epcot, the soft, pliable wood a welcome relief to our sore joints and muscles – and suddenly, the ball was in sight. That ball: our goal! Into the park, we began to run country to country: Germany, China, Mexico. Each step was agony, each goal marker harder to reach. Past the ball – where’s the finish??? Then suddenly – MILE 26! I burst into tears – which were expected – what I did not expect was the fact that doing this while pushing my cardio system would cause me to almost hyperventilate. Oh wow – what if I hyperventilated and passed out at mile 26 and got carried in? I caught my breath, and prepared for landing. We passed a robed gospel choir singing as hard as we were running, turned a corner and there it was – the finish line. We did it. WE DID IT!!
ALL WE WANTED: My sister called as I was receiving my medal – which was fantastic. It felt like she was with me. Chuck called shortly thereafter and I got the impression it would be many long minutes before we saw them. We were heart-heavy – all we wanted was them. But then suddenly, there they were – our cheerleaders, our supporters, these men and children who’d sacrificed their wives and moms for all those hours of training. Those parents and husbands and children who’d spent an unseasonably hot January morning chasing spectator spot after spectator spot with throngs of other onlookers. That moment was all we’d ever wanted and we basked in it. We took pictures and headed off to The Rain Forest Café for a celebratory meal.
We did it. We did it we did it we did it. And it feels so good.
posted by Sarah Kathryn at 1/10/2005 10:32:00 PM
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