Betty - My Time

Last night (10/18) the Marathoning Mama's returned from San Francisco. I am happy to report that not only did we all cross the finish line, but more importantly we remained friends. We all have our own stories - enough to blog about for another month I'm sure - so I have decided to be the first to share the story of my marathon experience. I'm not posting my story first because I feel that mine is the best, worst or even the most interesting, but simply because I'm still working thru a lot of mixed feelings about that day. I hope that what I feel today will develop and evolve into something more, more, well I'm not sure, maybe just something more peaceful.

About 2 months ago I began having problems with my IT band (i blogged about it here). I began seeing a PT not once, but twice a week. It turned out that not only did I have an IT band issue, I also discovered that my lower back has as much strength and flexibility as my 90 year old grandma. Since then I have been doing multiple stretches and exercises to make it all a little bit better so I can get through this living nightmare called an endurance event without giving my body a complete smack-down so that I can run in the future again if I should decided to.

All was going amazingly well, which was proven to me when I was able to run 20 miles 3 weeks ago. This was the run that solidified that fact that, Oh my God I actually think that I might be able to pull this off. Juanita, K-dubs and I began making our plans about all the 'what if's' during the race - basically the 3 of us had been running together for the entire training and we wanted to finish this bitch together.

Fast forward to marathon day. I will let all the other ladies tell you about the fabulousness of the race ie: the start, the music, the energy, the scenery, the oranges, the fucking slow walking people we had to weave in and out of for 10 g-damn miles, etc. Anyway, much to my surprise my IT band starting hurting at about mile 5. fuck. Coach Jan caught up with us around mile 9-10 and when she left us at mile 11 she pulled me aside to tell me to listen to my body, listen to the pain. If i ever wanted to run again I needed to pay attention and that there was no shame in completing the 1/2. But I didn't want to do the half, so on I went. I was able to run thru the pain up until mile 14. At this point I had to stop Juanita and K-dubs and tell them to go on without me. It was the easiest and hardest thing to do - I knew that what was going on with me was not just that mental wall going up, it was purely physical and I was not going to be able to continue running. So in that way it was easy, this was my pain not theirs and they trained just as hard as I did and nothing should stop them from completing their goal. But, it was hard because I knew that that picture in my head, the one of the 3 of us holding hands crossing the finish line, laughing, crying and most likely throwing up, all at the same time was now gone. What ever was going to happen to me, I was now going to do it on my own.

So, I started walking. I was able to walk/run until about mile 17, at that point i knew that if i continued to try to run i might not even be able to continue walking. So, I walked. Oh, did I mention that it was cold, cloudy and rained for the last 2/3rds of the day? Yeah.
It was at mile 18 that the woman who was running with the last pace card went past. This is the person to signal that whoever crosses the finish line after her will technically not finish the race. No official time, no happy crossing the finish line photo, no Tiffany necklace (the 'medal' for this race). Here comes the mental struggle...I could easily turn around up til mile 19 (when we started going around the lake) skipping 4 miles and walk my way to the finish and still make it back to get the necklace. Or I could keep going, and get the satisfaction that I completed a full marathon. Hmmmm, this was actually a much harder decision than it appears. Did I mention the cold, wind and rain. Oh, how about the pulled tendon behind my right knee, and the blisters forming on the bottom of my feet from the wet shoes and socks. And all the lonely, all the by myself, all the time to think about all these things. But I kept going. I don't even know how. I just knew that it's what I had to do.

For all of these things, these obstacles that I overcame to finish, why am I still so, so sad? Do you know how awful it is to cross the finish line alone? And not only that, but to have to run around the ladder that's taking down the finish line while your crossing it? To not have anyone there to take your photo? To know that you really could have done this, actually run a marathon but this one thing stopped you from reaching that goal? To realize that you may never have this time again - the time to train, to be able to do it with such great friends, the support from your spouse that you so desperately need. It's gone, and it might not ever come back. At least, not for a while.

Everyone keeps telling me how proud they are of me. And every time I hear it, I feel nothing. And today I realized why...I didn't sign up for this marathon to make others proud, I signed up to make myself proud. And I just don't feel proud yet. I hope to get there but it just might take some time - and that is something I can make time for.