26.2. Or, the ultimate coping mechanism.
So...I ran a marathon a while back. That was pretty cool. I haven't written about it here because I like to avoid emotionally digesting my big life events. Even when they are positive things that happen, interestingly enough.
Beth was awesome and hosted me at her apartment in Southern CA, and her roomies were nice to me even though I was passed out on their couch for the better part of two days afterward.
The race expo was super crowded, so we didn't stay long. (The expo is where big marathons have their race number/bib pickup the day before the race. There are also vendors there selling running-related things and sometimes random local vendors selling completely unrelated stuff. There are usually raffles and such, and the expo is where you get your swag bag of free stuff. Most races in Tucson are too small to have an expo.) I picked up a long-sleeved shirt, some gels and a sun visor because mine was too bulky to fit in my carry-on. Plus, it's bright red and I wanted a non-bright red one. :)
But! At the expo, they also had a local culinary festival with free entrance to race participants. So Beth bought a ticket and we sampled some food from the vendors. We had a couple of tacos and a beer and watched the celebrity chef guests do their show. One of the "Real Housewives of Orange County" was there too, so there's that. Not sure what she had to do with the chefs, but whatever.
Here's us at the start line at about 5 a.m. I woke up at 3:45 to get to the shuttles, no joke. Running is tough for those of us that are NOT early birds!
The race was late in starting, which was super annoying. One of the really nice things about running local Tucson races is that they always start on time. The race directors here are really good about getting everything going on time. They said there was a problem with one of the road blocks, and so we hung around the starting line corrals for about an extra 1/2 hour. I guess it was nice that the sun started coming up while we were waiting, so you could actually take cell phone pictures and have them come out.
So, the race.
...
So many things. It was not the hardest thing I've done in my life, but it makes the top 10 list easily. It's a cop-out to say that you can't really know what it's like to run a marathon until you do it, but it's also true. I've been running for a good three years and I still had no idea how much it would take out of me. You learn a lot about yourself when you're out there, whether it's in a marathon or your first 5k. You're the only thing you've got, and you learn very quickly what you're made of. That sounds so very corny, but it is entirely true. I never ever thought I'd be the kind of person strong enough to run a marathon, but the fact remains that I did.
I found it to be an oddly emotional experience, too. I'm not an emotional person at all, but I went through a lot as my body started falling apart towards the end. I was angry at my body's many failings, angry at myself for not training enough, elated that I was able to even get this far, thankful that I'm strong enough to make it through something this intense, and relieved to be finally getting it done. I was sad, too, in a weird way. I'm not sure why, but it was a sad thing to be finally going through the thing that seemed so daunting to me for so long.
At one point I almost lost it by such a weird coincidence - the final 6 miles of the race wound through a residential neighborhood and many of the people came out to watch the runners. Some of them held signs for people they knew running the race and many held out orange slices and water for the exhausted runners. A female runner ahead of me dashed out to the side to hug what I assume was her family holding signs outside their house. She ran over to hug an old man in a wheelchair that seemed to be her grandfather. It was very moving and out of the thousands of people who ran the race, I just happened to be running right behind her to witness it. My grandfather died a few weeks before the race.
The race itself was mostly gorgeous! It started in a massive shopping center in Orange County but we quickly made our way right down to the beach. We followed the beach for the first 10 miles or so, never actually running on the sand but getting close to it. The first 5k ran through some really ritzy multi-million $$ houses, with private beaches, super expensive cars and tons of boats. Everything was so green! And the weather was absolutely perfect! I don't think the sun came out until the very end of the race, and it was cool for most of the morning.
We left the beach area and headed back into the cities near the halfway mark. It would've made for a very pretty 1/2 marathon. The 13-18 miles were pretty boring and sometimes yucky, running through shopping areas and over highways. Those are really hard miles for me, and it felt like a total slog. We ran along a canal from about mile 19-21, which was nice, but by this time I was too far gone to enjoy it. This was where the real pain set in. One young girl collapsed in front of me, with what looked like a calf or ankle strain. Luckily she was running with friends who took her to the nearest water stop.
This is NOT representative of my feelings for most of the marathon. (I think it was taken around mile 9 or so.)
The last 10k of the race was pure mental effort. I was dead on my feet, and walked more than I like to admit. The pain was excruciating, and this was where the nagging doubts set in. My body was clearly not up to the challenge, and I hated that. My foot hurt since the start line. My hip/back started really getting me around mile 15 and never let up until the end. Mostly though, I was disappointed that I wasn't going to make it in under 5 hours. I kept up with the under-5 pacers until about mile 20, but couldn't keep it up.
(Pacers are runners who volunteer to run at a particular pace for the entire race. They carry signs or balloons that show how long it'll take to finish the race at that pace.)
I'm still disappointed that I didn't make it in under 5 hours, but I'm trying to be realistic about it. Given the amount of pain I was in and the state my body was in, it's enough that I finished. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have even run the race. My foot wasn't anywhere near healed and my back is seriously fucked up. Running a marathon in those conditions is actually kindof insane, so I really shouldn't complain.
(They ran out of food at the end - how lame is that?! I was seriously pissed. I mean, I know I was slow, but that's just bad planning. Not to mention dangerous - your body simply can't sustain that kind of damage for that long without replenishing itself at the end. Not cool, OC Marathon organizers, not cool.)
I was in a daze for most of the rest of the day. I remember eating awesome curry that Beth's roommate made, awesome something-or-other that Beth made, awesome chips from Trader Joe's and some other awesome things. Basically everything I ate after the marathon was awesome - it could've been the worst kind of gruel and I'd have lapped it up.
The next day we went to some places that really exemplify Orange County - an Asian fusion hipster hamburger place and a coffee place that is styled like a laboratory and lets you choose how you want your coffee brewed. It was fun :)
Beth and her slanty coffee cup.
So I called this post "the ultimate coping mechanism" because of how I've dealt with life post-marathon. It's been ... a challenge. After the marathon, I ran two 5ks with no training but have otherwise decided to take the summer off from running. I've done nothing but a few miles on the treadmill here and there since. I miss it like crazy, and my body doesn't know what to think. I'm restricting my diet so that I don't gain weight, which is no fun, but necessary. My foot really appreciates the time off, and feels much better. But my back pain is back, like woah. It's like it was just waiting for the opportunity to come back and taunt me - ha! See what happens when you stop running like a maniac? Neener!
Turns out that running is a major coping mechanism for me in ways I never expected. My bestest best friend ever is leaving the state - and I immediately wanted to go run the hell out of myself, but couldn't. My grandfather's funeral was a week after the marathon - wanted to run the hell out of that one too. Ultimately, it's good for me to deal with all these stressful things in a way that isn't so hard on my body. I'm leaning on Ben for support, which is what normal people are supposed to do in a relationship ... it just isn't easy for me. But we've been doing some really fun things lately, and even though it's fucking hot in Tucson, I've been having fun. I'm not as freaked out about being here, even though it was never what I wanted.
So yeah. Marathon? Check. My mantra can now officially be, "I've run a marathon, so I can do this." It will probably come in handy.
Beth was awesome and hosted me at her apartment in Southern CA, and her roomies were nice to me even though I was passed out on their couch for the better part of two days afterward.
The race expo was super crowded, so we didn't stay long. (The expo is where big marathons have their race number/bib pickup the day before the race. There are also vendors there selling running-related things and sometimes random local vendors selling completely unrelated stuff. There are usually raffles and such, and the expo is where you get your swag bag of free stuff. Most races in Tucson are too small to have an expo.) I picked up a long-sleeved shirt, some gels and a sun visor because mine was too bulky to fit in my carry-on. Plus, it's bright red and I wanted a non-bright red one. :)
But! At the expo, they also had a local culinary festival with free entrance to race participants. So Beth bought a ticket and we sampled some food from the vendors. We had a couple of tacos and a beer and watched the celebrity chef guests do their show. One of the "Real Housewives of Orange County" was there too, so there's that. Not sure what she had to do with the chefs, but whatever.
Here's us at the start line at about 5 a.m. I woke up at 3:45 to get to the shuttles, no joke. Running is tough for those of us that are NOT early birds!
The race was late in starting, which was super annoying. One of the really nice things about running local Tucson races is that they always start on time. The race directors here are really good about getting everything going on time. They said there was a problem with one of the road blocks, and so we hung around the starting line corrals for about an extra 1/2 hour. I guess it was nice that the sun started coming up while we were waiting, so you could actually take cell phone pictures and have them come out.
So, the race.
...
So many things. It was not the hardest thing I've done in my life, but it makes the top 10 list easily. It's a cop-out to say that you can't really know what it's like to run a marathon until you do it, but it's also true. I've been running for a good three years and I still had no idea how much it would take out of me. You learn a lot about yourself when you're out there, whether it's in a marathon or your first 5k. You're the only thing you've got, and you learn very quickly what you're made of. That sounds so very corny, but it is entirely true. I never ever thought I'd be the kind of person strong enough to run a marathon, but the fact remains that I did.
I found it to be an oddly emotional experience, too. I'm not an emotional person at all, but I went through a lot as my body started falling apart towards the end. I was angry at my body's many failings, angry at myself for not training enough, elated that I was able to even get this far, thankful that I'm strong enough to make it through something this intense, and relieved to be finally getting it done. I was sad, too, in a weird way. I'm not sure why, but it was a sad thing to be finally going through the thing that seemed so daunting to me for so long.
At one point I almost lost it by such a weird coincidence - the final 6 miles of the race wound through a residential neighborhood and many of the people came out to watch the runners. Some of them held signs for people they knew running the race and many held out orange slices and water for the exhausted runners. A female runner ahead of me dashed out to the side to hug what I assume was her family holding signs outside their house. She ran over to hug an old man in a wheelchair that seemed to be her grandfather. It was very moving and out of the thousands of people who ran the race, I just happened to be running right behind her to witness it. My grandfather died a few weeks before the race.
The race itself was mostly gorgeous! It started in a massive shopping center in Orange County but we quickly made our way right down to the beach. We followed the beach for the first 10 miles or so, never actually running on the sand but getting close to it. The first 5k ran through some really ritzy multi-million $$ houses, with private beaches, super expensive cars and tons of boats. Everything was so green! And the weather was absolutely perfect! I don't think the sun came out until the very end of the race, and it was cool for most of the morning.
We left the beach area and headed back into the cities near the halfway mark. It would've made for a very pretty 1/2 marathon. The 13-18 miles were pretty boring and sometimes yucky, running through shopping areas and over highways. Those are really hard miles for me, and it felt like a total slog. We ran along a canal from about mile 19-21, which was nice, but by this time I was too far gone to enjoy it. This was where the real pain set in. One young girl collapsed in front of me, with what looked like a calf or ankle strain. Luckily she was running with friends who took her to the nearest water stop.
This is NOT representative of my feelings for most of the marathon. (I think it was taken around mile 9 or so.)
The last 10k of the race was pure mental effort. I was dead on my feet, and walked more than I like to admit. The pain was excruciating, and this was where the nagging doubts set in. My body was clearly not up to the challenge, and I hated that. My foot hurt since the start line. My hip/back started really getting me around mile 15 and never let up until the end. Mostly though, I was disappointed that I wasn't going to make it in under 5 hours. I kept up with the under-5 pacers until about mile 20, but couldn't keep it up.
(Pacers are runners who volunteer to run at a particular pace for the entire race. They carry signs or balloons that show how long it'll take to finish the race at that pace.)
I'm still disappointed that I didn't make it in under 5 hours, but I'm trying to be realistic about it. Given the amount of pain I was in and the state my body was in, it's enough that I finished. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have even run the race. My foot wasn't anywhere near healed and my back is seriously fucked up. Running a marathon in those conditions is actually kindof insane, so I really shouldn't complain.
(They ran out of food at the end - how lame is that?! I was seriously pissed. I mean, I know I was slow, but that's just bad planning. Not to mention dangerous - your body simply can't sustain that kind of damage for that long without replenishing itself at the end. Not cool, OC Marathon organizers, not cool.)
I was in a daze for most of the rest of the day. I remember eating awesome curry that Beth's roommate made, awesome something-or-other that Beth made, awesome chips from Trader Joe's and some other awesome things. Basically everything I ate after the marathon was awesome - it could've been the worst kind of gruel and I'd have lapped it up.
The next day we went to some places that really exemplify Orange County - an Asian fusion hipster hamburger place and a coffee place that is styled like a laboratory and lets you choose how you want your coffee brewed. It was fun :)
Beth and her slanty coffee cup.
So I called this post "the ultimate coping mechanism" because of how I've dealt with life post-marathon. It's been ... a challenge. After the marathon, I ran two 5ks with no training but have otherwise decided to take the summer off from running. I've done nothing but a few miles on the treadmill here and there since. I miss it like crazy, and my body doesn't know what to think. I'm restricting my diet so that I don't gain weight, which is no fun, but necessary. My foot really appreciates the time off, and feels much better. But my back pain is back, like woah. It's like it was just waiting for the opportunity to come back and taunt me - ha! See what happens when you stop running like a maniac? Neener!
Turns out that running is a major coping mechanism for me in ways I never expected. My bestest best friend ever is leaving the state - and I immediately wanted to go run the hell out of myself, but couldn't. My grandfather's funeral was a week after the marathon - wanted to run the hell out of that one too. Ultimately, it's good for me to deal with all these stressful things in a way that isn't so hard on my body. I'm leaning on Ben for support, which is what normal people are supposed to do in a relationship ... it just isn't easy for me. But we've been doing some really fun things lately, and even though it's fucking hot in Tucson, I've been having fun. I'm not as freaked out about being here, even though it was never what I wanted.
So yeah. Marathon? Check. My mantra can now officially be, "I've run a marathon, so I can do this." It will probably come in handy.