4 am is really, really early.
And dark
and cold.
Someone said to me that marathons start great, and end great, but the middle part really sucks. I managed to get to the porta-potties before the race start and I managed to meet some interesting people. This is the best part of the marathon, the people that you meet while you are waiting and while you are running.
The start of the Las Vegas marathon was late, but we did get to see some great fireworks as we milled around trying to figure out exactly where we were supposed to start. The “corral” system that they were supposed to be using was not visible to me. And I was looking – honest. I asked and got no information. So I put myself in the middle of the pack and hoped for the best.
My understanding was that the Blue Man group performed the national anthem. I did see them, 15 minutes after the start gun went off, when we finally managed to get to the start line. This is the reason why if I run a marathon again – I need to be an elite athlete... everyone knows I hate waiting... for anything!
The start was interesting. I had to run around a lot of walkers who had put themselves near the front of the pack. Dodging around these people did make the race longer – a foot at a time – and believe me I felt every one of those feet later.
There were lots of folks, drinks in hand, wandering around in the dawns early light, who were willing to cheer us on. There were also people who were there just to cheer us... I'm sure that was what they were doing while they were waiting for the strip to open up to traffic again.
The marathon was supposed to be the most entertaining marathon, but I have to admit that the Calgary half marathon that I ran earlier this year was actually more entertaining as far a bands per mile goes.
People were great at cheering us on from their homes and cars, and that was great. I met a guy who was race walking faster than I was running... (now that is discouraging) I ran for a little while with a lady from Calgary – she was on a five hour marathon pace... a little too fast for me. James was an older guy (in his sixties I would guess) who started running when he was 52 and was running his eleventh marathon. He was outpacing me too!
I was following a guy that I could only see from the back. A big tall black man with a white shirt. He was easy to spot and seemed to be running my pace. I figured if I could keep him in sight I would be OK
It rained, it was windy and cold. At times we were running along part of a freeway and sucking in car exhaust. When we turned to head back to the Mandalay Bay we were facing a full head wind that reduced my pace dramatically. There were times during the race when I questioned my sanity, and other times when I was so elated, after this difficult year, to be running at all, let alone working to complete my goal.
Around the twentieth mile I lost sight of the guy in the white shirt. My run ten minutes, walk one minute pace had stretched out. To run five walk five. The big muscles in my legs were spent and I was moving ahead just using the small hip muscles. I was sure that I couldn't make it. It was too far, and too hard. But I kept walking one step at a time. Then I saw the aid station at the twenty-one mile marker. And something that I put on my MP3 player to inspire came on as I took my water. And I realized it was only 5 miles. Just five miles.
So I started again. Running a little, walking a little, running a little more. Then I saw him – the tall guy in the white shirt. He was walking too.
I caught up to him and used my line “You know, I've been following you all race.” He laughed, his name was John and a he was a a very nice man. (JJ confirmed after that he was good looking too... so it wasn't just delirium.) We talked – his hamstrings were giving up on him and I encouraged him to keep going. We talked, we walked, we kept going and I kept telling him how much further we had left to go.
Then I saw the turn and I knew we were there, and I actually could feel myself running, slowly, but running.
My goal was to run the marathon in five and a half hours, I crossed the line at 5:46. My arms raised in victory and JJ taking my picture, my moment of glory!
Smiling, happy, and proud.