My emotions have been all over the place this week. One minute I'm excited, the next I'm petrified. On Thursday, I met up with Lauren to get my race packet. I opted out of the TEAM run last weekend in favor of my yard sale fundraiser, so I wasn't there for packet pick-up. Just having my packet in hand -- airline ticket to San Francisco, TNT singlet, course information, pasta party tickets, transportation wristband -- it started to become real. It's marathon time. I was thrilled, thinking about the work I'd put in, knowing I could make it. Chicago's 6.5 hour time goal seemed looming for a girl who is built for distance, not speed, but Nike's 8 hour time limit? Piece of cake.
Then I got the bright idea to actually read my race information. As it turns out, Nike only "kind of" has an 8 hour time limit. Walkers who walk at a 15 minute/mile pace or slower get an early start time of 6:30 am. At this time, police escorts ensure that nobody goes faster than 15 min/mile. All early participants must walk. Everybody else starts at 8:00 and has 6.5 hours to finish the course. This sent me into panic mode for a while. Yes, I trained for Chicago last year. Yes, I trained to be off the course in 6.5 hours. But have you looked at the elevation map for the Nike Women's Marathon? When it looks something like this...
...it's nice to be able to say, "It's okay. We have 8 hours to finish this baby." Look at all those hills. Yikes.
I was anxious about what to do, and quite frankly, it's still running around in my mind at times (no pun intended). Do I e-mail Nike and say, "Oops, I wrote a faster time, but I really need those 8 hours"? It sounds like a good idea, except that part about missing the "real" start and having to walk for at least the first hour and a half of the race. That's not exactly the race experience I've been training for. But then, what if we don't do that? What if we say, "We're fine, we can do it," and we can't. What if I need 7 hours? 6 hours and 45 minutes? Look at those hills.
Most of the time, I'm confident that I can do 26.2 in 6:30:00. After Chicago 2007, though, I can't help but have nagging doubts. What if it's hot out? What if it's cold out? What if the hills are worse than everybody says they are? I'm trying my best to push those thoughts out of my mind. I've run. I've trained. And I can do this.
Today I volunteered at the Chicago Marathon. The volunteering part, to be honest, was awful. It involved waking up at 4:10 am, finding out the volunteer jackets wouldn't be there until we got back from our post, being cold, guiding spectators with little to no information to guide them with, and returning to a jacket two sizes larger than requested. Lame. Jon really likes his new Dry-Fit running jacket though.
It was nice to be around the crowds, feel the energy and excitement of race day, and get pumped. I was so energized by everyone around me, and excited to think about my race day. Blanka and Cal finished in a fabulous 5:01:58, and I enjoyed running with my favorite LadyBird for the last 5 or so miles. I'll let her give her own race report, though. :)
What I didn't expect was how emotional I would get on the course. After we finished volunteering, Melissa and I met up with Jon and his dad at mile 13. I immediately started tearing up. Mile 13 is where it started to get tough for me last year... just before the race was cancelled. I remembered walking a lot at that point, seeing my family and just being thrilled that they were there. I remembered my dad saying, "I just decided I'm doing a half marathon today. Want to join me?" I remembered the determination I felt to get to the finish line. And I remembered how crushed I was just a few miles later, being re-routed through the finish line... backwards... having only completed part of the race. I was surprised how difficult it was, at first, to be there again.
I quickly got caught up in the crowds and cheered things like, "go shirtless guy," "go TEAM," and "go (insert name here)." I loved cheering the runners along. We saw Blanka and Cal running away, and decided to go separate ways. Jon and his dad headed for the finish area, mile 26. Melissa and I hopped on the red line to Chinatown and settled ourselves just before the 35k mark. We camped out and cheered for quite some time before we saw Cal and Blanka heading by again. I ran over to the, water in hand, to check in and see how things were going. They were doing great! Cal was really upset (to put it mildly) that a spectator got in his way and he managed to lose his timing chip in the process. $30 and an official time down the drain -- not exactly a dream come true for a first marathon. Reguardless, they were looking tough.
We camped out some more until we saw Barb come by. We ran with her until mile 26... trying to lift spirits, make her laugh, and oh yeah, trying to keep my jeans from falling down. There's a reason nobody goes out to run in jeans. Next time I'm a spectator, I'm wearing running clothes! I also ran into a BP to buy a huge container of salt. :) It was a fun, emotional five miles. And once again, little twinges from last year came back to me. If I thought too much, my mind wandered to, "I never got to run this part last year. So, this is what the end of the race feels like." After all those nagging feelings today... there is no way I'm not running Chicago next year. Then again, maybe I should get through marathon #1 first.
When we got home tonight, Jon and I watched Spirit of the Marathon, a documentary about the 2005 Chicago Marathon. Between the movie and the day's events, I'm feeling pumped for next week. I'm trying to ignore any nagging doubts. My plan is just to hydrate all week, read up on San Francisco, stock up on SportBeans, Body Glide, and Gatorade, relax, and get ready to enjoy my very first marathon finish line.
I can't wait.
1 comment:
I'm so excited for you!
You can TOTALLY do it in 6.5!
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