The race fun started at the expo on Friday.  In all honesty, I’m not a huge fan of expo’s and that’s probably because they’re usually crowded and they involve weaving in and out of crowds of people.  I usually grab my number, shirt, and head out.  I remember my first expo was quite exciting and new and I felt like I had been introduced into this whole new crazy world of people who loved to run and buy things for running- it was way cool!

Here’s Amy and me.  Not sure how many races we’ve run together, but it’s a lot!!

After the expo, we went to Einstein’s to get our pre-race bagels for the morning, the grocery store to get some Pepto Bismol for me (more on this later) and then to check into the hotel.

After checking in, we met more of my friends at The Pizza Factory for dinner.  Amy and I shared a salad, breadstick and spaghetti.

After dinner, we headed back to the hotel.  We set out all of our things for race morning, got ready for bed, then I drank my tea in bed and tried to stay calm before lights out.  I was doing a pretty good job of staying calm! I was ready to work hard.

Race morning went pretty smoothly because I had set everything out and had everything ready the night before.  I showered, got dressed, put Aquaphor on my feet, did my makeup and hair, and pinned on my number on… all while eating my cinnamon raisin bagel and sipping on my drink.  Amy and I left our hotel room around 4:30.  Our hotel had a shuttle that left straight from the hotel and shuttled us to the marathon busses.  It was very convenient!

At the busses, we met up with my friend Tarah and one of her running buddies, Jenny.  We hopped on the bus and began the journey to the start.

There’s something about riding a bus to the start of a marathon…. I like it! I think it’s because for my first marathon I rode a bus.  I still remember talking to the man next to me… He was telling me that it was his first marathon although he had completed a few Ironman races (at the time I didn’t even know what an Ironman was, but I pretended I did.  Haha!) He was very encouraging and nice.  What’s funny about bus rides is that they seem long…. And that’s funny because you’ll be running the distance pretty soon.  Confirmation that marathons are very long!

Anyway, back to the race.  After we hopped off of the bus, we did the normal routine, potty stop, hang out and chat while getting situated (watch on, headphones on, check bag ready.)

(Who else thinks it’s funny that I have a picture of myself in front of 5,000 porta-potties?)

We made one more potty stop before checking our bags.  That took longer than expected (it always does) so we hurried and checked our bags right as the gun was going off… Luckily that was right by the course, so we hopped on the course and started running and it happened to be right by the 3:35 pacer.  I thought, Oh no! This pacer is gonna mess with my head!  (I think you all know how I feel about pacers.)

We crossed the start line, I started my Garmin, and started running.  It was dark.  I like running in the dark, but it does get a little complicated when it involves a lot of other runners around you.  I realized right as I started running that I forgot to take the Pepto Bismol I had in my check bag.  I was bummed that I forgot!  My stomach is very sensitive (and it had been very sensitive the last few days because it is affected by stress) and I anticipated it being an issue, and was going to make sure and take the Pepto right before I checked my bag hoping that it would help keep everything calm during the race.  Anyway, I kept running and kept trying to ignore the pacer’s beside me.

By mile 2, I knew that my stomachache was probably going to be an issue, but I did my best to shove the thought right out of my head.  I was gonna do well today, darn it!

I took my first gel at mile 5.  My stomach handled it fairly well.

Amy and I stayed alongside each other (and the pacer) the first 7 miles.  I really don’t know the word to describe how my legs were feeling, but they weren’t feeling light and fresh, which is how they should feel when a runner is about to PR.  They felt exactly how they felt at the recent 5K I ran at the local high school- heavier than normal, tired.  Once again, I shoved the thought out of my head.

At Vejo hill, I fell back and lost the pacer and Amy.  I still managed to stay positive, knowing that my goal time was five minutes more than Amy’s, and knowing that the pacer most likely had a different strategy than I did.

I took another gel at mile 9.  My pace had slowed significantly in the last two miles, but I reminded myself that this race is always harder in the first half.  I made a goal to make it through the first half, then push it at the halfway mark.

I crossed the halfway point at 1:50:00 exactly.  In my previous St. George Marathons, I crossed the halfway point at 1:50 too, so I knew then that if I wanted to PR at 3:37 or faster, I had to run a negative split.  But I was still optimistic because if I was gonna run a negative split in any race, it would be this one.  I kept pushing on even though my legs were telling me they wanted to do otherwise, and even though my stomach was feeling pretty weak.

I think between the halfway marker and the mile 17 marker, I listened to Moby’s Honey at least five times.  It is a repetitive song, which otherwise might have bugged me, but it helped my feet to keep moving on the downhills, when all I wanted to do was walk.  I stopped paying attention to my slow pace and just tried to push forward.  Somewhere around mile 16, I finally accepted that there was no possible way I was going to PR, considering the state of how I was feeling, and my average pace.  As I approached mile 17, I knew it was about time for another gel, but I couldn’t do it.  I knew that I would throw up if I did.  I stopped to walk, accepted defeat, and wanted to give up.  I sat down in the shade behind the porta-potties and waited to throw up.  I knew that I had to eat something, so I walked back to the Gatorade table.  I had a small drink and waited to see if it would settle.   A volunteer asked if I was okay.  I said, “Yes, I’m okay.”  I started walking back to the shade, but along the way asked a nice looking volunteer (a lady about my age) if I could borrow her phone.  She quickly said yes and handed it to me.  I was ready to call B and tell him I was giving up.  He picked up the phone and knew right away that the race was not going well.  I told him that I didn’t see the point in suffering through nine more miles when my goal for the race had already slipped through my hands.  He asked me how I would feel telling others that I had quit, and how I would feel crossing the finish line.  I agreed that crossing the finish line was definitely the better of the two options, but I replied with, “I honestly don’t know how I’m going to run nine more miles.” My legs an stomach were done.  DONE.  He said, “Walk, take deep breaths, and you’ll be able to do it.”  I thanked him, told him I loved him, handed the phone back to the volunteer and dug deep.  I decided I was going to finish even though I had no freaking clue how I was gonna do it.

I turned off my Garmin, took out my headphones and put them in my pocket, and did what Brian told me to: walked and took deep breaths.

I can honestly say that the last nine miles of that race were some of the best miles I have ever run in my entire life.  I was so proud of myself with each and every step.  All the disappointment that had plagued me from mile 13 to 17 had turned into sheer happiness that I was even moving.  I lost myself in the other runners and the spectators.  I looked at the runners around me and knew that I was not alone.  I looked at the spectators and knew that they were proud of me.  I chatted with other runners (one man said, “You look amazing! You look like you’re just out for a quick 5 mile run!”)  I started taking in popsicles, pretzels, and more fuel and started to feel much better.  I smiled. I picked up the pace a little bit, and couldn’t believe that I was going to finish when at mile 17, I was afraid of my very first DNF (did not finish) out of 21 marathons.

Lastly, I thought of life.  I thought of my mom.  She always gives me perspective.  I watched her suffer and push through pain day after day for two years when she was sick.  Whenever I think of her strength, I am humbled.  Marathons are not hard.  Fighting for your life is hard.

I crossed the finish line.  I did it with a  smile.  I was reminded of a lesson that running marathons has taught me: Finish lines always come if you keep moving forward.  It may seem like it won’t ever come, but it always does if you keep moving forward.

Quickly after I crossed the finish line, my friends were there to congratulate and hug me.  I told them I was so happy to even have finished! Then I went to get my check bag to call B.

After I thanked B for his encouragement, and assured him that I was alive, I sat in the grass, brushed my hair, and thought of how grateful I was that the race was over and that I had a medal around my neck.  I almost didn’t.  I can’t believe that I almost didn’t.  I was reminded of the Tucson Marathon I ran in December of 2010 (click here to read the post about it.)  It’s the only other race I’ve sincerely wanted to quit.  I reminded myself that I dug myself out of that hole and I can do it again.

And I will.

I want you all to know that your Instagram comments, and blog post comments of encouragement have meant everything.  EVERYTHING.  I know I keep saying it, but really, I had no clue the joy that I would get from sharing my passion.

Huge congrats to my friends that got killer times- especially Amy.  I feel bad that I was such a buzzkill on the day of her PR/BQ.  She was extremely patient with me and managed to hold me up with positivity when I was consumed with frustration.  She’s my hero- excels at everything she tries (I want to be like that!) but still humble.  I’m still mad we didn’t get a picture together with our medals!

When I went back and read my post from yesterday, I felt a little guilty for coming across more down than I actually feel.  I do feel discouraged, but I know that it is not the end.  I will dig myself out of this hole and you will be there to see it and the victory will taste so sweet.  I love running.  I love the marathon.  I love the experiences I have had and the places I have been because of it.  I will continue to run around this world with bright eyes and a grateful heart.  Rest assured that has not changed and never will.  My PR will come! In the meantime, I’ve got other very fun races to run!

Thought today would be a good day to share my favorite quote.  It is just as appropriate today as it was the day I came across it:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” -C.S. Lewis

XO

Maury