The Long and Winding Road

By 5:30 AM everyone in the house was up with the exception of Savannah. Peeps (A.K.A. Peepaw, Doug, my step-dad) turned on the weather while we greased up our feet with Vaseline and awaited our carefully pre-planned, pre-event breakfast. The high temperature was estimated to be 61 degrees with winds up to 45 miles per hour. Yikes!

Due to the weather predictions the day before, we had not planned for it to be that cold. We made outfit adjustments, packed our camelpacs and set off for our adventure with a little anxiety of the unknown and lots of excitement.

By the way, I could probably write a good size novella on the events of this past Sunday. But for the sake of every body's time and attention spans, I will edit my thoughts before typing and keep this thing moderately short.

Now, back to my story. The energy of a thousand people waiting at the start line is equivalent to a double shot espresso. The gun went off and everyone cheered as they took off. It took some time for the large crowd to pass over the start line. As we made our way over the line most of the people around us began to run. My adrenaline started pumping and I had to mentally control every muscle in my body and tell myself not to run. I felt like an overexcited puppy on a leash that was not allowed to run off and play with the other rambunctious puppies!

My mother quickly told me that we agreed to walk this thing not run and under no circumstances would she be running today. So, I harnessed my race day excitement and settled into "walking the marathon" mode. Although I was initially caught up in the moment of race day excitement, it did not dampen my spirits to be walking instead of running. But it did get me fired up to run one next time!

Everyone (Mandy, Mom, and myself) was doing well until we hit White Rock Lake just a few miles into the race. A couple of runners passed Mom and unintentionally kicked gravel into her shoe. When I looked back she was sitting down beside the course. I told Mandy to go on and I ran back to Mom.

She had taken off her shoe in attempt to get the gravel out. But if you take your shoe off mid-event, it's never the same. She ended up have lots of foot problems throughout the race.

Our next hurtle was around the corner. We turned north to walk several miles beside White Rock Lake heading straight into 45 mile an hour winds. The wind chill coming off the lake was 31 degrees. To say it was brutal is an understatement. We literally had to push off into the wind with so much force that it felt like we were on a stair stepper the whole time.

By the time we went through several miles of that, Mom was in severe pain from her foot and now exhausted from the wind. And if your feet are not feeling good, nothing is feeling good. Mom started to fall way behind Mandy and I. I would run back and check on her periodically (I was happy that I got to run a little of the marathon!) and then run back to Mandy. Eventually she fell so far back that we could not turn around and see her. That time when I ran back to her she announced that she was dropping out. This was at mile 12.

The next week she went to her chiropractor and he said if she had continued the race she would have had permanent nerve damage in her left foot. Luckily she was smart enough to know that her foot was seriously injured and that she should not attempt to finish.

Mandy and I however, did press on. But suddenly we noticed we were all alone. Most of the walkers turned off for the path of the 1/2 marathon. I reassured Mandy that that just means we are among the elite walkers and not a slacker who takes the 1/2 way path. I'm not sure she was convinced.

The marathon Mom did before had tons of walkers. This one unfortunately did not. Soon the couple behind us dropped out. That put Mandy and I at the end of the race, hours behind the runners. Rumor has it that there were 2 other walkers in front of us on the course but we never saw them. It began to get lonely.

Since this marathon allows walkers, the course is suppose to stay open 6 1/2 hours to allow enough time for them to complete the event. But on the 17th mile we saw the people at one of the water stations shutting down. This worried us a little. The cones marking the race were still out and we still saw signs directing us so once again we pressed on.

After a few more miles we noticed there were no more water stations open and the police escorts had now disappeared. The course looked vacant and worry began to set in. Our psyche was now thrown off and we started to get a little down.

About that time a lady who worked for the company putting on the race drove by to tell us that the course would close in an hour and she asked us if we wanted a ride back. Excuse me? So you want me to quit after 19 miles so that you can go home early? Or worse, do you think I can't finish this thing? Nothing infuriates me more than someone thinking that I can't do something. Especially if I know I can.

The lady must have seen red flames shooting from the top of my head as she said this because then her reply was, "I'm just relaying the message."

I replied in a decent tone for someone who just invested 19 miles, "Walkers are allowed in this marathon and the course should be open for another hour and we will be on it. We are not quitting."

Seriously, nothing worse than someone trying to get you to quit during a long endurance event. Most people are already trying to talk themselves out of quitting and then to have the event coordinators suggest it!

At this point we are feeling bummed and all alone. Although we were still able to follow the cones, there were no more mileage signs or signs with arrows and directions. This fact further depleted out moral. Try as I might, I could no longer get a laugh out of Mandy. I on the other hand was still furious that someone thought we might not finish (we were moving VERY fast, in the wind. We just weren't running.). I wanted to run the last 7 miles but Mandy's feet were on fire and every step was painful. She was regretting not going to Run On and getting a new pair of shoes. But, there was nothing we could do about it at this point.

(Almost done. I promise this is much less detail than I could give you!)

As if things could not get any worse, the cones stopped at an intersection. We had no idea which way to go. I guessed and it turn out I guessed wrong. We went a mile or two way off course. Who knows how far we really went off course because there were no mile markers on or off the course!

Now we were lost, unable to finish the course after so many hours, and on the verge of tears (mine being tears of fury and Mandy's from pain and exhaustion). I have never felt so alone and abandoned in all my life. How could they put on a race then leave us out here!? They pulled the water stations, cones, signs, policemen...everything. They never came back to check on us.

By this time, Peeps, Mom, and Savannah were on their way. They found us and without asking us if we wanted to finish the marathon (they knew better) they drove us back to the course. Peepaw got on his bike and rode us in. And thank goodness he did because by then we were over by Fair Park with NO police protection!!! That's the ghetto people.

One last corner and we could finally see the finish line. Mom and Savannah were there cheering along with some staff. Mandy and I ran those last few feet.
Savannah gave me a big hug and asked if I won. Let me tell you, anyone who get's out there and even tries is a winner.

What did I learn? I LOVE LOVE LOVE long endurance events. I could have pushed myself much further physically (but mentally I was shot!) and plan to do so in the future. However, I did tell Mark that I will not do more than one marathon a year because of the time it takes away from my family. Mandy and I do plan to run a 1/2 marathong in October and my Mom and my aunt AJ plan to walk it. We also learned that the Big D marathon is not well run but I had read several reviews that said that very thing online.

But above all I would do it again. I think I have found my athletic niche!