Fallible

“… able or likely to make mistakes…”

I am working on processing some news.  It should be good news, but it doesn’t feel that way.  Yet, everyone is still alive.  And physically healthy.  I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.  “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”  Words for me to live by.  I learn this from my sister.  She’s so strong and an incredible mentor.

Thanksgiving Part III

It was later than I had hoped it would be by the time we got back to the house Saturday night.  I had to be up at 5:30 to go run the marathon and I hadn’t even gotten anything ready yet.  On marathon morning, I played “I Sing The Body Electric” on my iPod as I stretched.  Somehow I found it more difficult to psych myself up with my mother watching.  But I was determined to make a positive loop for myself rather than a negative one.

It was a beautiful, crisp morning and I decided to wear a cap plus my usual running hat, gloves, tights, and two shirts.  I pinned my number on my outer shirt and worried for a few moments if that was a mistake.  With six minutes to go, we went to the starting line.  I was surprised at how easy it was to slip into place.  We started down Fifth Avenue, I think, running under the monorail.  I am glad they fixed the monorail. 

I heard a guy next to me telling his buddy “My calf is cramping.  I have a twinge in my back.” And his buddy saying back “Look, you are going to have a lot of aches and pains today.  You do not need to keep me informed about all of them.”

After a mile or so, I was hot.  I took off my outer shirt with my number on it and tied it around my waist.  Dave Murray, one of my sister’s friends, was standing on the corner waving.  He had to work that day and couldn’t run.  I was glad I saw him.  We ran up past the stadiums as I talked to Matt, a dental student from Minnesota running his first marathon.  I hope he did well.  I hope he had fun. 

It was wild to be running down the freeway.  It was fun to go running through a big tunnel that we have driven through.  I thought “I’ll have to tell my kids.  And tell them that I didn’t hold my breath.”  The water stop inside the tunnel was jammed with walkers and I almost ran right into one who had stopped dead in her tracks.  That would have been unfortunate for both of us! 

Out on the bridge, I thought someone had told me we run half way out and turn around, but we were going all the way across.  That was a little disappointing, but nothing I couldn’t recover from.  I saw Cliff and gave him a high five.  He looked a little stiff and I hoped that he was able to run faster than 2:53.  Then I ran into Van, Mary’s running buddy.  I should not be catching her.  She told me that her Achilles was bugging her (she had run the Ghost of Seattle Marathon the day before).  I slowed to run with her for a little bit and enjoyed it as she said “Hi” to Everyone.  Running 53 marathons in one year, she knows a lot of runners.

Running west on the bridge I met Joe, in his late 40s and running his first marathon before arthritis got the best of him.  He was fun to talk to and we chatted for maybe 4 miles before he said “Good luck!” and sent me on my way.  We weren’t yet at the half way mark.  I hope Joe ended up with a run he was happy with.

Running around Seward Park, I met a woman from Canada who was about my pace.  She had never run a marathon before – just an Ironman.  I was impressed.  As we ran around Seward Park, I thought of the 1998 Resolution Run 5 miler we had run here – my sister, my brother, Bruce, Jim, and me.  My average pace was over nine minute miles.  On Sunday I was hoping to run over 26.2 miles at a faster overall pace.  I hoped my brother was doing well in Iraq and I hoped that we would be able to run together again someday. 

I bid my Canadian friend good luck as I stopped to use the porta potty at about 16.  By mile 17, I saw her about 100 yards ahead, but I didn’t want to expend too much energy catching her.  I met John Iceberg, who had on a Marathon Maniacs singlet, and his brother-in-law, Mike.  Mike had on a shirt sponsored by a donut maker.  John and I chatted about the Maniacs.  I should have worn my singlet.  I don’t wear it usually because although I certainly qualified, I somehow feel like I should be a better runner.  But I saw Maniacs of all shapes, sizes, and speeds on this course.  Perhaps I should just get over myself.

John and Mike talked about the hills that were coming up.  I grew a little nervous.  But the scenery was beautiful – large houses, views of Lake Washington – so I tried to think about that instead of the hills.  We hit the first hill and to my surprise, I did not feel like walking.

The next hill came on the heels of the first and I just kept putting one foot in front of the other.  I was surprised by my power.  I hadn’t trained on hills.  I wasn’t powering up the hills, but I wasn’t giving up too much either.  Steady short steps.  Going up the next hill, which might have been part of the last hill, but we had turned a corner, I saw Jerry, another Maple Valley runner.  He told me Saturday that he was shooting for four hours.  I was right on pace to come in under four hours.  I was feeling good.  Jerry and I chatted a bit.  John came running up to tell me that there were just 5.4 miles left and I had an hour.  He said something else encouraging that I forget, but I was so grateful.  I can do this!

Jerry and I ran down a small hill into the Arboratum.  Jerry said it was pretty much all downhill from here.  He wished me luck as I pulled ahead on the next uphill.  Perhaps I misunderstood him, because this felt like a hill to me.  I suppose from Flat Phoenix, hills mean different things.  Marathon Brain was starting to creep in.

“Interlocken is Carl Country.  Go Carl!” read the handmade sign on the side of the road.  Interlocken was certainly beautiful.  I can see why Carl likes it.  I saw another sign that said “Run Like You Are Robbing a Bank.”  I had seen that sign before.  Somewhere around mile 14.  The guy just ahead of me said “I have seen that sign before!”  How nice of all these people to come out and watch.  How nice the signs were.  Thank God for the volunteers and the police and everyone.  I heard someone call out “2160 – can we get you anything?  Are you OK?”  I thought she was yelling at me.  But I was 2115.  How nice of the volunteers to be aware of the runner’s conditions.

Out of Interlocken, we ran over another freeway.  Just over 3 miles to go.  I felt like I totally had this.  But I was tired.  I didn’t want to put the gas on and regret it at mile 25.  The woman next to me said “Welcome back!”  It was my Canadian friend, but she had taken her jacket off so I hadn’t recognized her.  We ran together for just a few steps, but I was going faster.  My right hamstring felt on the verge of a cramp.  That would be bad.

I ran past the last water station without stopping.  I wasn’t sure how far we had to go.  I hoped it wasn’t far.  We turned and ran under an overpass of some sort.  I thought of my St Thomas Runners.  I would pray for them individually if I could remember any names, but at this point, I could not.  I prayed for them as a group. 

A few strides later, I heard sobbing.  I was ready to stop and help if I could find out where it was coming from.  The finish was .2 miles away.  Then, I saw her.  A very fat woman crumpled on the curb.  Overcome.  But she had a friend sitting right next to her.  I ran on, but my heart went out to the athlete on the curb.  I hoped she was able to pull it together to finish.  I hoped she was able to pull it together to keep running or walking after today.

We were turning into the stadium.  A woman volunteer stood there with a sign that said “SLOW”.  I don’t think it was meant for us, but I said “Hey!”  She said “Speed up then!”  I laughed and I sped up.  I heard the announcer call my name.  I sprinted across the finish with spring in my legs I didn’t know I had.  Should I feel this good at the end of a marathon?  I met my goal.  Sub 4, which is a Boston Qualifier for me.  I ran 3:56:37 on my watch.

Right behind me was my Canadian friend.  We congratulated each other.  I got my finisher’s medal and found my sister.  Later, I saw John and Mike.  Mike had finished sub 4, too, 3:59:59.  He was delighted.  I wished I had seen Matt and Joe, but I did not.  I looked up their results and Matt finished in 4 hours flat.  Joe finished well after that.

4:30 Monday morning, I was trying to navigate security at the airport, there is something in my suitcase that is causing the TSA to be concerned.  They begin removing clothing and running it through in open bins.  Finally, they find what was bothering them.  It’s my marathon finisher’s medal.