Not Ideal

In high school I had a friend who often said, "You're not always going to have ideal conditions" when speaking of my track meets. Which meant that I needed to be prepared for anything: extreme weather, aches & pains, tiredness, rabid dogs, etc.

Well, if someone had told me Saturday morning that I was going to be running for nearly 2 hours longer than I'd planned, I would NOT have endured the "non-ideal conditions"--I would have gone right back to bed. Yeah, you read that right. TWO. HOURS. LONGER.

Backtrack a little. Let's start from Wednesday.

Wednesday: come down with sore throat. By nightfall, sore throat is bad. I start crying. Who cries over a sore throat, you wonder? I do. But only if the marathon I've been training for all year is in 3 days.

Thursday - Friday: gargle salt water. This is a big deal for someone who hates salt. Try to keep my head in the game and think positively. Attend marathon expo Friday afternoon. Drive to Central, Utah Friday night to "sleep" at Aunt LouAnn's house, which is conveniently located a few steps from the starting line. Not much sleep to be had (but at least I didn't have to get on a bus in St. George at 4 a.m., right?)

Saturday: wake up 5:30 (involuntarily). Blasted sore throat! Blasted mucus! Warmest starting line temperature in marathon's 34-year history. Gun goes off. First 13 miles: 1 hr. 53 min. Last 13 miles: 3 hrs. 39 min. To be fair, I spent well over an hour trying not to pass out at mile 25. MILE TWENTY-FIVE!!! I had been walking/shuffling since mile 18 and battling head exhaustion. I barely made it to the shaded sidewalk just past the aid station, put my head between my knees, dumped water over my head and down my throat, and then laid flat on my back. I kept telling myself to get up and walk that last stupid mile, but every time I tried I almost passed out. I had some stranger call Leif thinking he would get there to help me after I passed out or to hold me up and walk with me to the finish line. But even with him holding me up I felt like I was going to faint. So I made the hardest decision of my life: I needed to go home. And I'm not a quitter.

Funny thing happened though. As we started to leave we passed a runner with a finisher's medal around his neck, and I knew I had to have mine. So after resting and getting some Mountain Dew in my belly, I didn't feel like fainting anymore. I began to walk with my precious little family toward the finish line. And you know what? I felt like I could run. So I told Leif, and he told me to ditch them, so I did. And I "ran" for almost a mile. Finish time: 5 hours, 32 minutes.

So I guess you realize by now that the marathon didn't go as planned, but there were some good things that happened. I had fun with my sisters. We wore fake tattoos and ate chocolate, and they ran with me and my tears to the finish line, even though they'd been done for a while. A friend from the relay ran with me for a few miles in the middle and was very encouraging. Some immediate and extended family members waited at the finish line forever to cheer me on. I learned that I can be proud of myself for giving my all, even if that amounts to a very different outcome than I was planning on. And I got to eat ice cream at the finish line and wear my finisher's medal all day.

Who needs Boston?








Epilogue:

Sunday - Monday: I'm a walking nightmare. If it was the end of the month, I'd dress up like Frankenstein and totally pull it off. I walk with a labored gait, and the snivels and hacks coming out of my mouth would send small children screaming to their mothers. Doc prescribes antibiotic to cure most symptoms of my monstrosity: bronchitis, laryngitis, sinus infection (unfortunately, antibiotics don't work for sore muscles).