Marathon #38: Newport Rhode Island, October 2014

Back in the "olden" days, before the responsibilities of adulthood took hold, our marathon travels involved large groups of people. It wasn't uncommon to have as many as 5 or more people running the full marathon, along with countless others running the half marathon or coming along for support. Over the years though, the groups dwindled to just us few. The marathon became an increasingly tough thing to sell. Until this year. Until the Newport Rhode Island marathon. Of all the big named marathons to choose from, why this smaller, lesser known marathon, seemingly in the middle of nowhere? Well, because of Kathy.

It's not entirely clear when Kathy's goal of running a marathon in every state started to materialize. Initially, it was a non-committal joining of the "50 States Club", which anyone who has ran a marathon in 10 states can do. It was interesting for me, the guru of marathon courses, to help hunt down various marathons for her (and sometimes me) to run. Several of us ran these marathons with her over the years, including: Zac, Jerod, Jamie, Bill Baxley, Laura Harvey, Ginna, Laura Patterson, Toby, George, Linda, and of course her husband Mike. At some point Kathy decided that she wanted to complete her 50 state quest before her 50th birthday, and then it was GAME ON. She laid out her game plan for the next few years and went to work.

Her final marathon would be the Newport Rhode Island marathon, October of this year, as her 50th birthday is this December. I always said I'd be there to run the last one, so I committed to running it early on. Right away lots of people jumped on board, which didn't surprise me, because that would happen a lot, then as the training would begin people would drop out along the way until it was just us few. Well in this case that didn't really happen. The opposite happened. It was evolving into the party of the year! Additionally, Mike had "Operation Ghost Family" in place, secretly inviting several family members to be there for the occasion. To say she had a lot of people counting on her as she finished up her last few marathons would be an understatement.

With the inclusion of Mike's family, I think our total headcount was somewhere between 30 and 35, with 10 people running the full marathon, and I believe 13 people running the half marathon. Laura Harvey decided to run the second half of the marathon with her husband Art, as it was his first! Mark Saxton decided to run the second half with Kathy.

We all descended upon Rhode Island in different waves, and at times it was like "herding cats", but the beauty of the race was that we could all walk to the start and finish area. The day before the marathon it was cold and rainy, which was fine for touring the Breaker's mansion, but we were really glad to see clear skies on race morning. Us marathoners headed out 30 minutes before the half-marathoners, as our race started earlier. We were all surprisingly calm before the start. Us 5 girls, Kelly, Laura Patterson, Jamie, Kathy, and I were standing at the start, listening to the National Anthem and Kathy was crying! So of course we started crying! I wish I had a picture of that!

Before the tears

The first half would be prettier than the second half, as it ran along the coast, past the Cliff Walk, the mansions, Fort Adams State Park, etc. Kathy and I ended up running the first half together, talking the whole way, and pointing out the sights. As we ran the screaming downhill into the start-finish area to run out in the opposite direction for the second half, Mark joined us. Kathy kept saying, "Don't look at the finish line" when we ran by. It was really painful to see at that point!

We knew the second half would be quieter and hillier, so I pulled ahead a little and put my music on. It was surreal during miles 16-24, almost like I wasn't even running a marathon. I think I was preoccupied with seeing everybody on the out and backs and enjoying the fact that I was a part of something bigger than me. At the beginning of mile 25 I finally walked a water stop, took in a gel and 2 cups of water, and walked the final hill. I got to the top and looked back for Kathy, didn't see her, so I carried on. It turns out that in addition to Mark, Jerod had joined her at mile 22! This is after he ran the full marathon himself!

When Kathy finished the crowd went crazy! They announced her 50 state completion, and all of us were there! More tears! Afterwards, we all cleaned up and had a little celebratory champagne before heading to the big party. Mike reserved the second floor of a restaurant, where we had pizza and drinks and a chance to share our war stories with one another. Thank God the photos of that party are confined to a private facebook page. Things got a little crazy, as things often do when some "anonymous person" picks up the bar tab...

As for the marathon itself....beautiful marathon from beginning to end! Yes, the first half had more sights to see, but the second half was pretty too, as we ran along a beach, along beautiful tree lined roads with brightly turning autumn leaves, and again, more beautiful homes. It was hilly from beginning to end as well. but we knew that and trained for it. The only negatives were that they had a really tiny one-tent expo without much to offer, and they delayed the marathon start by about 15 minutes. Even though the finish was on the beach, it was a pretty drab finish, but we had our own agenda, so it didn't matter to us. I did find their beer tent, which was pretty far away from the finish line, but it didn't matter, because the local beer was so horrible we couldn't even drink it!

I would highly recommend this marathon, and I would recommend staying at the Sea Breeze Inn, which is nearby. Leeza is an angel and will take good care of your people.

Leeza in front

In summary, this passage will be with me always: The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step and the support of many friends.

Kathy and me

Kathy's crew

The marathons I don't want to write about

The starting line. It's a beautiful thing!

I was really on a roll there for awhile, going back in time and reminiscing about my past marathons, starting from the first one and moving up the chain until...I could say I was too busy training for my next marathon (partly true), but the real reason may be because I am reluctant to go back there...back to "that" marathon....the Houston Marathon, 1998...It may be because it is one of my least favorite marathons, or that it marked the beginning of a long string of disappointing marathons, purely based on the fact that I was singly focused on qualifying for Boston by trying to run a sub 3:45 time.

Up until the Houston marathon I was enjoying the marathon experience, learning what to do and not to do, inching closer each time to the 3:45 mark. I was content with each finish, convinced the progression would continue. Until it didn't. Without realizing it, I had entered an era, where all I cared about was trying to make that time goal, not really looking around and taking in the experience and the day for what it was and all it was going to be. I have a lot of lousy marathon experiences to write about, starting with the Houston marathon, and ending with the New Orleans marathon, where I unknowingly qualified for Boston by running a 3:50. I had aged into the next age bracket, where the qualifying time was 5 minutes slower.  I will get to these marathons and write about each one of them eventually, because they weren't all that bad overall. I just didn't enjoy them as I could or should have.

It didn't matter that I had qualified for Boston, because I had a pelvic stress fracture and didn't run again for at least a year. I tried to make the best of it by immersing myself (literally) into learning how to swim. Additionally, I joined the Carrollton Cycling club and spent a great deal of time on my bike. I missed running terribly, but the pain in my pelvis reminded me almost daily that running was out of the question. I'd see someone running and get a sick feeling in my gut. There were some dark days when I wondered if I'd ever run again.

Finally, as my fracture healed and I started running again I was so grateful that I genuinely didn't care how fast I could run or how far. Finally, the attitude I needed to have about running was within me! As I continued to run further still I returned to the marathon distance.With each training run I was grateful, and when I towed the line at the Oklahoma City marathon I was genuinely happy to be there and ready to enjoy whatever the experience would be. I don't think this transformation could have happened any other way. A couple of ironies occurred. First, I actually did qualify for the Boston marathon again at that Oklahoma city marathon, by 4 seconds! It was not because I was trying to gut it out like before, hitting a certain pace or anything. I ran based on "feel", and somehow picked it up later on and just went with it. At each water stop I'd tell myself that if I slowed it would be ok to walk and let it go, but I'd get to each stop and look at my watch and laugh, because I was still right on pace. That continued to the end. I can't wait to do the entire write up on that great race. The second irony was that even though I never did run a 3:45, in the Chicago marathon, years later, I ran my PR of 3:46. It was my third marathon in 5 months. I was tired and I had an achy hamstring. I was back in the massive crowd of 40,000 runners. The first few miles were insane! But again, the pace came to me and I just went with it and ran what I was capable of running on that day as I enjoyed the event for what it was.

My next marathon is in 10 days. I'm not going to lie and say I don't care what my time will be, or that I don't worry about having to DNF the race due to an injury or whatever, or that I don't worry about the weather we will have to endure. I am still a mess when it comes to the taper! It's the all your eggs in one basket scenario and I hate it! The time factor is more worrisome when your training was in the summer heat and all your long runs were dreadfully slow and painful slogs. You can't help but think you are going to be out there a lot longer than you want to be. You can't even begin to imagine what a fall cool breeze will even feel like, come race morning! Last fall I had to DNF a half marathon and hitch a ride (or two) back to the start/finish when my hamstring blew. So it happens. Guess what? I didn't die! I had a very exciting morning and met some nice people! Still...all of this is part of the mental process we all go through during the taper, right up until it's time to race.

I don't know how many marathons I have left. As I get older I am even more grateful that I am able to do this. There will be a last marathon. I'm not sure how that one will go down. Will I finish it and say to myself, "Ok I've had enough. This isn't fun anymore", or will I Forrest Gump it in the middle of one and say "I'm going home now"? Or will I just unceremoniously just never get around to training for the next one? Only time will tell!

Marathon #5 The Cowtown Marathon, Ft. Worth 1997

The 1997 version of the Cowtown marathon course was a lot different than today's. The biggest difference was that it started and finished in the Historic Stockyards, as opposed to the Will Rogers Memorial Center. It traveled more northern and western sections of Ft. Worth, but still included the stretches along TCU, the Colonial golf course, and the Trinity Trail. The Cowtown marathon of today is probably just as hilly of a course as it was back then, maybe even a bit more. Not that the hilly course was a deterrent to choosing this marathon back then. I was a fan of Cowtown for years, but mainly because I'd run the 10K every year, if not the 3 person relay. (There was no half marathon back then). The 10K had a ridiculously long hill in it, which by the way, is now in the current version of the marathon!

Amy and I had just ran the Marine Corps marathon that fall and really wanted to turn around and run another one the following season. Cowtown appealed to us both for many reasons, but one big reason was that it was a local race where friends and family could cheer us on.  The course ran past her parent's street, so as we ran by they were standing on the corner. That was the most memorable moment of the marathon for us, because it was a big deal that Amy's dad made it out to watch her run by, as he was very sick.  Amy still has a picture he took of us, and if I get a copy of it I will add it here later.

Amy and I ran together for a good portion of the marathon, but eventually had to split up and find our own pace to settle into. Amy was faster than me, but would have to stop at the porta potties, so I'd yell "HEY AMY" as I ran by and she'd eventually catch me. Such was the advantage to running a smaller race. We went back and forth like that to the end (I think), finishing within a minute or two of each other.

The Cowtown marathon has always gotten a bad rap, but personally, I enjoyed the course. My least favorite part of the marathon was running through the old Tandy parking lot near the end, but that section isn't in the current version of the marathon. I continue to toy with the idea of running the newer version someday.

I don't have any interesting details about my race on that day because the race went surprisingly well, in fact, it had been my "easiest" so far, even with the hills. We had perfect weather, we paced well, and I ended up running a PR time of 3:48.  The photo below is my finish line photo as we turned onto the brick lined, downhill run through the Stockyards. It's still one of my favorite finish line memories, and every time we run \\ this stretch during the current half marathon course  it brings me back. Yes, back then I ran for Run-On, hence the mandatory advertising!

Amy!

Back then we didn't get finisher's medals. We got the boot! As much as I love my medals, this was pretty cool.

See some familiar faces in our finish line fan club? Back then a lot of local Dallas runners would make the trek to Ft. Worth. My parents ran the 10K, which used to be held on the same day. Afterwards, we would head to Joe T Garcias, a tradition! Since then the marathon and half marathon have been moved to Sunday.

Finish line fan club!

Yep! A boot and a beer=happiness!

Marathon #4: Marine Corps Marathon, 1996

Enter the discovery of glycogen replacement, such as the magic of "GU"...a new era began...

The Las Vegas Marathon had left its mark. I stepped away from the marathon distance and went back to focusing on shorter distance races and too, did my first team relay race at Hood To Coast the summer of 96. I fell in love with the relay! We had a team of 12 runners, called "Texas Roadkill", who would run a total of 200+ miles from Mt. Hood Oregon to Seaside Oregon in just under 24 hours. I had never in my life had so much fun with running. It was during this time that I learned the importance of "energy replacement" in the form of carbohydrates, or "carbs". This endurance event brought me to a new level of training too--realizing that faster wasn't always better--more miles were the key--slower, easier miles.

Once again, the seed was planted in my brain to run another marathon, as my new friend and team-mate Kris started talking about qualifying for the Boston marathon. She was eyeing the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington DC as her target race because it was rumored to be a relatively flat course. Amy (yet another friend from the NYC marathon and now a fellow team-mate) and I got on board with this idea, but I can't remember many details as to our particular goals. Qualifying for Boston meant we would have to run the Marine Corps Marathon under a certain time-frame based on our ages. I think Kris had to run a 3:40 time, I had to run a 3:45 time, and Amy had to run a 3:50 time, but I can't be sure. My best time was 3:57 (at Las Vegas), but I felt I could run faster than that. Could I run a 3:45--I wasn't so sure. My mind-set going into the Marine Corps Marathon was to run my fastest time ever, regardless of making the qualifying time, and to enjoy the event.

Amy, Kris, and I

I looked forward to returning to yet another "big" marathon after my ordeal in the desert. With a grand tour of DC this marathon would not disappoint. We would run past the Pentagon, the U.S. Capitol, the White House, the Lincoln Memorial by way of the reflecting pool, a jaunt along the Potomac river, and lastly, the Iwo Jima Memorial near the finish in Arlington Ridge Park.

Fast forward to race day morning. There was excitement in the air as approximately 19,000 runners were heading to the starting line. One thing we didn't count on though, was the unseasonably warm and humid weather. It had been just two years ago that Oprah Winfrey had famously ran this race in the pouring pain. We would have none of that today. We started off the race in jog bras and shorts! Kris and I stayed together while Amy stayed further back (I can't remember why, because she was faster than us), and for awhile Dallas runner Frank Moore was with us too, giving us tips and mantras along the way. But early on he looked over at Kris and commented on how "wet" her head was. It was then that I realized Kris was in trouble. The humidity was getting the best of her. She needed to slow her pace, so I went on without her. Obviously, the initial goal of qualifying for the Boston marathon was thrown out the window! This would be a survival run, where we'd have to pay a  lot of attention to fluid intake, especially as the day grew warmer.

Frank Moore stayed with me for several miles, and it was comforting, as he was a veteran marathoner, and kept saying things like, "At mile 20 I thought I was dead. At mile 22 I wished I was dead. At mile 24 I knew I was dead. At mile 26.2 I realized I had become too tough to kill." That's still my favorite! Even with the bad weather I was finally getting it right, taking in "GU" gels for energy and keeping my pace at a reasonable level, and most importantly, not getting to that point where I wanted to sit on the ground and refuse to get up. Before I knew it I was cresting the Iwo Jima "Hill" as spectators, a lot of which were military veterans, were shouting out at us, urging us to not stop and walk. It was the highlight of the whole race for sure! I crossed the line with a time of 3:51, taking 6 minutes off my best time, but more importantly, the last 10K wasn't total torture as it had been before.

As soon as I crossed the line I was so excited I made a beeline to the photo area to have this picture taken:

Then I hurried back to the finish line to catch Kris and Amy. Amy finished, and had a story as to what had happened to Kris. She said she passed Kris on the course and Kris was feeling sick, so Amy had her sit down on a bench for a moment, and when Kris started feeling better Amy continued on. So we waited with worry, until Kris finally did arrive! She had a grand story to tell! She had gotten sick--I think she even threw up on a policeman's shoe! They put her in an ambulance and were packing her in ice, telling her that her day was done. She sat up and said, "I came all this f*cking way to get that medal, and I'm going to get that f*cking medal!" She got out of the ambulance and started walking. For awhile they sort of followed her until they realized she wasn't getting back in! She would walk, run, get sick, walk, run, etc. until she made her way to the finish line!

Later that night we hung out in our hotel room with Amy's friend Michael and his friend and drank way too much wine. I have no recollection as to why we never made it out on the town! The next day we played tourists before heading home.

Room service hated us

Amy insisted that I wear my medal ;)

We had a wonderful time in DC, and the marathon was a great experience, but to this day it is not one of my top marathons. It was way too crowded, especially at the start, and from what I hear that is still an issue. (Actually, it's more of an issue now because it is even bigger). Today's course, although flatter (I forgot to mention that this course was not as flat as advertised), it does not get as close to the monuments or the White House, for obvious security reasons. In fact, since 9/11 and the Boston marathon bombing the security needed at this marathon has in some ways ruined it, sadly, at least for me. I will keep my fond memory though!

Marathon #3 Las Vegas International Marathon 1995

Everybody always asks me what my favorite marathon was. Big Sur, without a doubt, but nobody ever asks me what my least favorite marathon was. The Las Vegas International marathon, without a doubt...

I'm not saying that it was my slowest or poorest execution of a marathon, nor am I saying that it was my most difficult marathon. It was just by far my least favorite marathon all around. The thing is I was on a quest to break 4 hours in a marathon, and my friend Christine (one of my NYC marathon buddies) was on a quest to break 3 hours. We weren't really looking closely at the finer details--only the net downhill course that would guarantee PR runs. (PR = personal record). Not only that, but a trip to Las Vegas sounded like a lot of fun, so hey, decision made. We did have a great group, and we did have a lot of fun in Vegas, but out there on the course, oh boy, not so much. (At least not for me).

The entire event, including the expo, was on the outskirts of town.The expo was in a tent. The course was laid out as a point to point, with the starting line out on the old Jean highway and the finish line at the Family Vacation Village, just shy of the Las Vegas strip by about 5 miles or so. The run would be entirely in the desert. This was all ok with us, as the elevation chart showed that after an initial gradual uphill half marathon the course would make a rapid descent for the next 9 miles, then  flatten out from mile 22 to the finish. There would be one turn on the entire route, and that would be the turn to the finish line--about 200 feet or so.

On race day morning we were bused out to the starting line, which literally was just a line drawn on the road. There was absolutely nothing else out there! There was not a cloud in the sky, and although chilly at first (52 degrees), it was going to warm up quite rapidly. Janet (also one of my NYC marathon buddies) was injured, so she told us that she would be out on the course on a mountain bike later to check on us, so I had that to look forward to. And off we went! Obviously, I would not see Christine again until the finish!

Race day morning--2 women with goals!

From my memory and marathon log splits I really struggled with the initial up-hill climbing. I wrote that some of the climbs were "steep", and I was not happy to see that at the halfway mark my time was at 1:55. I would be cutting it close to break the 4 hour barrier, but I had the downhill portion ahead, so my mood was not that bad, but I did feel like it was "work". Without anything out there to distract me, I was focused on pacing, which after the last marathon was a good thing! We crested the last hill and for the first time we could see the city of Las Vegas in the horizon. At first this excited me, until I realized that, a: the horizon never moved, and b: The Luxor Hotel, our hotel, the pyramid, was the closest building in view. Every time I looked up I would see the buildings in the same spot, so I continued to look down at the yellow line in the highway. At this point the temperature had climbed and I was slowing down, even with the aid of the downhill course. I was still pacing ok enough to break 4 hours at this point, but I could feel myself unraveling inside. The boredom of the course was probably the worst thing I was dealing with. There was a guy dressed like Elvis out there singing with a boom box, and someone with a toy plane, but that was it for entertainment.

 Finally, at around mile 21 Janet showed up on her bike. She told me she must have missed me and had ridden further back in the pack looking for me. I could feel myself irritated and wondering how far back did she go until she realized she missed me? I mean how bad did the people have to start looking until she thought to herself that I had to be ahead? See, this is how the devil creeps in your brain. It starts off with a seemingly benign minor irritation. Then she asked me if I was doing ok on water, because the water stops were total chaos. Apparently I was just a step ahead of the aid station meltdown, at least until the next one, where there were no cups and people grabbing at the pitchers in the volunteer's hands. I was really lucky to have Janet to get me through all of that!

When the road went from downhill to flat it felt like we were going uphill. It was the most excruciating pain! I started to slow to a walk and that's when Janet said to me that if I walked I would not make it under 4 hours. I wanted to scream, cry, cuss, but all I did was whimper a bit and start running again. She was right. God how I hated her. :)  She continued talking to me, telling me stories to take my mind off my agony, and I flipped between being eternally grateful for the distraction and wanting to scream shut the hell up! At one point I came perilously close to just stopping, sitting in the middle of the road, and refusing to get up. I will never forget that feeling, and luckily, I rarely ever feel that way, but I do know that urge could be lurking out there and it truly is the devil. To fight that devil and win is such a great indescribable victory, and probably yet another reason why I love the marathon. At any rate, at last the horizon did indeed start to appear closer and closer, and it became apparent to me that I was going to break 4 hours, and that the torture of such a boring marathon was finally going to end.

Did I mention I was totally sunburned on one side?

My finishing time was 3:57 and Christine's time was a 2:58! We accomplished what we had set out to do! The finish area had nothing but green bananas, stale popcorn, and water served in little paper dixie cups that crumpled after one use, so I think I went through 5 cheap paper cups of water! We were in an exposed parking lot with no shade and really no reason to stick around, so that was the end of the glorious marathon experience called the "Las vegas International Marathon".  Of all of my marathon medals, this is the only one that has oxidized severely over the years to where it is hardly legible:

It is funny how to this day I consider this marathon, my third marathon, my least favorite by far. I suppose it is a testament as to how much effort I put into researching the marathons that I choose to do, but it's also worth noting that I have long since stopped considering running marathons for the sake of a PR or even a "fast time".  They did improve this marathon over the years, bringing the starting line in a few miles closer, making the initial uphill less and actually finishing on the strip! Eventually, though, they sold out to the Competitor group, so it is now part of the "Rock and Roll" marathon series, with a night time run that is entirely within the city, so it is an entirely different race altogether. Good riddance I say!

Marathon #2: Dallas White Rock Marathon 1993

I ran my first marathon (NYC Marathon 1992) without any real consideration of pace or finishing time, which I highly suggest as the time goal for your first marathon. Plan to make all your painful rookie pacing mistakes during your second marathon...

Looking back on my training log (and yes I have it all on record) I can see the rookie mistakes I made in training. First of all, I was still running a lot of local races. I was racing pretty hard on some Saturdays and attempting to run long runs the next day. Secondly, I ran all my long runs way too fast. I didn't get injured by doing these two things, only because I was young. Only. The last mistake I made (for me) was that I only did 3 "long" runs: 18, 20 and 21 mile runs. Today, in my 50's, my goal is to run the following long runs: 18, 20, 21, 22, and 23 miles. And at a much slower pace. Still, not knowing I had made any mistakes, I went into the marathon feeling pretty confident that I could at least break 4 hours, if not run a 3:50 marathon time.

What laid before me was a near perfect day weather wise, and the course itself was not too daunting. The 1993 course started and finished in front of the Convention Center downtown, headed to White Rock lake via Turtle Creek, then onto Mockingbird Lane. From there it ran all the way to Williamson, where the runners approached the lake at West Lawther, looped the lake (including Northwest Highway), then headed back to downtown via Lakewood and Swiss Avenue. My parents were going to be at the finish line, so I told them to look for me to arrive somewhere between 3:50 and 4 hours. If I was to show up after 4 hours I would not be happy. That's what I told them! Oh my gosh that makes me laugh now, but in all seriousness "on paper", based on my current race times for the 10K and half marathon, it was a totally realistic number. Not to mention the fact that I ran all my long runs near that pace...(Projected pace was to be 8:40 minutes per mile. Keep that in mind as you read on).

The race starts. Unlike the NYC marathon, where the masses slowly moved towards the starting line, everyone is screaming by like scalded apes and I feel like I am standing still. At the first mile marker (8:06 pace) I realize I am already blowing it, but I am having a hard time slowing down. People are continually passing me for the next few miles. I'd like to point out that the reason why this happened is because I made the rookie mistake of lining up with the faster runners, a bad habit of running shorter races! My first 5K split pace was 8:27. Uh oh. And 10K split was 8:28. UH OH. And mile 15: 8:30 pace. WHAT THE HELL?

But let me back track to my "nutrition plan". This was before there were gels, or at least before I had bothered to try them. I had gotten into the habit of eating pieces of Power Bars in training. If you aren't familiar with them--they have the consistency of putty and come in a pliable bar. I had a baggie of cut up pieces pinned to my shorts, and the plan was to eat these pieces along the way. Well it was really cold, so when I put a piece into my mouth it was as hard as a rock. As I came to a water stop and unsuccessfully tried to get it down with water I just spit the whole thing out, much to the horror of the volunteers, thinking I was throwing up. So much for that plan. The only thing I took in that day was water and Gatorade. (Today I take in 4-5 gels and/or possibly chews for nutrition).

According to my marathon log book with my splits, mile 15 was to be my last sub 9 minute mile. The damage had been done. Let the learning process begin! Maybe this is why I love the marathon distance. If you don't get it right you will pay! You've made your bed! People are waiting at the finish! Friends will want to hear how you did. You bought the damn jacket. The shame of dropping out would be too much to bear. So here I was, in a very ugly place, with 11.2 miles to go...In the distance, far far away, across the lake,  I could see the buildings of downtown. Oh boy.

And so it went, some running, a little walking, a little whimpering here and there, some anger, and some camaraderie with those in the same boat, as each mile clicked away. My friends Doug Dodge and David Gay were waiting for me at mile 20 to run me in. I cried a little and told them how much I sucked. They flanked me on each side and provided a lot of humor. They would prod me into running here and there. At mile 23 or so my friend Mary Werling (Kerslake) joined us, so now it was a fun little party on the way to downtown. My spirits finally lifted as the end grew closer, and I picked it up to run it in with a finishing time of 4:03. And yes, I was very happy with that finishing time, contrary to what I told my parents, because I had survived my many mistakes and learned some very valuable lessons to carry me to the next marathon, because oh yes, there would definitely be another one. Even though it was an entirely different experience than the NYC marathon, crossing the finish line was yet again a magical moment!

My first official marathon finish line photo! Final rookie mistake: don't look at your stupid watch!

Not a favorite, but hey, a medal

Marathon #1: New York City Marathon 1992

My journey of marathons began on November 1st, 1992 at the New York City Marathon. It was the year race director Fred Lebow, diagnosed with brain cancer, ran the marathon with 9 nine time race winner Grete Waitz, making headline news at the time. Fred Lebow died two years later.

At that time the New York City marathon was the largest in the country, with the race participant count around 28,000. It was the only marathon with a lottery in place for entry. Besides the Boston Marathon, it was considered the holy grail of running, with the difference being that Boston was a qualifying race and New York City wasn't. (The same is true today, although New York City has added qualifying entries).  Each year the Dallas newspaper would run an article on the local runners who were heading to New York City for the marathon, and afterwards you'd see some of the local runners wearing marathon T shirts or jackets.

Back in the late eighties / early ninetys the idea of  running a marathon was perceived differently than today. They were still seen as ominous events. The marathoners of our community were of the minority, and they were all faster runners. In fact, back then even half marathons were uncommon. At that time Dallas had one annual half marathon held by the local running club CCCD, which is now the Dallas Running Club. The White Rock marathon didn't have a half marathon option back then, nor did Ft.Worth's local marathon, The Cowtown Marathon. But I saw the tides start to change, as more and more runners started gravitating towards longer distances and coming back with marathon T shirts and those highly coveted mylar jackets. They looked like they were fashioned out of paper, and today people use them as throw-aways, but back then they were considered cool.

Eventually, after a few half marathons under my belt I thought maybe I could run a marathon, but the idea scared me. I could visualize running the White Rock marathon because it was familiar territory, so that was the marathon I chose as my first. I could sleep in my own bed, the race size would be manageable, and I even knew the people working the race. I bought Jeff Galloway's book on marathon running, which is not to be confused with his run-walk-run program of today, and followed his program to the letter. The issues I had with following his program were the amount of long runs and that the last long run was 26 miles, leaving me peaked and ready to run a marathon a whole month early! It was at this point that a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to take her place in the NYC marathon because she had to back out at the last minute. I still had a month of training ahead of me for White Rock, but I felt like I was ready to run a marathon right then and there, so I said yes!  Looking back, I can't recall all the thought processes that led me to that decision, but I am pretty sure there was some peer pressure involved--there were six other girls going and we were all single.

So, here I was, flying off to NYC to run my first marathon, which was exciting! All of the others had ran marathons before and they were pretty calm about the whole affair, which helped! I was petrified at the race expo because I had to pick up someone else's race number as my own! The other girls laughed and called me "Debbie", but I was not amused. Luckily, back then it wasn't an issue, but to this day I am ashamed to admit that I ran my first marathon using someone else's number, so in reality the fact that I ran it can never be verified. Still, I have the race booklet, and I do have Debbie's finishing time highlighted. ;) It was Halloween the night before the marathon, so we went down to Greenwich Village to watch the parade, as opposed to resting up in our rooms. It's not like we could sleep anyhow! Even so, before we knew it, it was time to make the early morning trek over to Staten Island for the race start. I don't remember how many hours we sat out there in the grass, all bundled up, waiting for the race to begin. I only remember that it was NOT FUN. I think they have moved the starting time of the race up to where people have to wait less, but I am not sure how long the wait is. I was just thankful that it wasn't raining, because there was no shelter from the elements out there except for those who managed to get to the tents quickly enough to grab spots under there.

Finally, as the masses started moving towards the starting area and the media helicopter was hovering above us I started to panic and cry a little. I grabbed my friend Suzanne's arm and said, "I'm scared!" She just laughed--she had watched me wrap, unwrap, then re-warp my "injured" shin, pin a $20 bill to the inside of my shorts, and basically fret over everything incessantly."We'll run together. It will be ok. You can do this!"

Anyhow, like I said, I was overwhelmed. To this day I find big city marathons stressful, so I can see why the entire pre-race madness left me unhinged at the start. But all of that changed once the race started! Suddenly all the magic of running the New York City marathon came to life, and it was nothing short of incredible. My life of marathons began right then and there as I crossed the Verrazano-narrows bridge into Brooklyn.

It's funny to think back to that day and realize that I had no Garmin, no chip for timing, and no gels or sports beans or anything of that sort. No mp-3 player, and no cell phone. Just a watch! I don't have any recorded splits. I only know that my (or Debbie's) official time was just under 4 hours and 30 minutes, but I do remember that it took us 11 minutes to cross the starting line. I have no recollection of our pace being anything crazy. I do know that when Suzanne stopped to use the bathroom at a McDonald's that I actually jogged in place, waiting for her. (Back then I was afraid to stop running for fear of not being able to start up again--how idiotic). What's amazing to me is how little the course has changed over the years. It still runs through all 5 buroughs, finishing in Central Park. I still remember a lot of it. I remember how eerily quiet it was when we ran through the Hasidic Jewish enclave of Willaimsburg, as opposed to the overly interactive spectators of Harlem--some of which were actually yelling out insults. I hope that has changed since then!
I remember how annoyingly crowded the bridges were, particularly because they were steel, with narrow strips of carpeting for us to run on. I hope that has changed also, because that was NOT FUN.
The highlight of the marathon is this: You are coming off the Queensboro bridge at around mile 16, when your legs are starting to really hate you, and you've been on this bridge for about a mile with no spectators, and as you round the corner onto First avenue it opens up to a deafening roar! People are yelling from balconies on both sides of the street, and the street itself is lined with spectators. So loud and crazy!

Suzanne and I stayed together until we hit Central Park, where she felt energized and I was finally confident that I was going to finish (it only took 21 miles). I remember Central Park being so pretty, with the autumn colors, but I also remember it being very hilly! I was experiencing what I now call the "time warp", where the last few miles seem to take an eternity. At times I wasn't sure what mile I was on and that bothered me (now I know this is normal, ha ha). Then suddenly I am there! Crossing the finish line was one of the happiest moments of my life, and that is still true today--it just never gets old! It felt like I was moving in slow motion as they put the medal around my neck. I slowly stared at it in disbelief. I had a hard time believing it was real. They tried to give me a mylar blanket, but like an IDIOT I didn't take it. ALWAYS TAKE THE BLANKET. Then they moved me into the "chute from hell", where I had to inch along for what seemed like miles, with no way of escaping! (It is still done like this today, which is NOT FUN). By the time I got to the end of the chute and dumped into the reunion area I was shivering. I couldn't find any of the other girls, so I proceeded to find my way out of the park, but I could barely move, due to the shivering. I wandered into a medical tent, where they covered me up in a real blanket and gave me something hot to drink--and donuts! I was living the life of a king in there, but saw the really needy start piling in, so I decided to venture out and make my way to our hotel.

Later that night I insisted on wearing my medal out. Amy Keene poked fun at me for wanting to wear it, which is funny because a few days later, on a train to Pennsylvania, she had tucked her medal into a pair of boots in her suitcase, and someone stole those boots. She said the first person she thought of was me when she realized her medal was gone!

In summary, it was a great first marathon, but I would not suggest a big marathon such as this as your first. I went to Central Park this past winter for the first time since the marathon and I still get chills thinking about that finish. There's a statue of Fred Lebow in the park now. I ran by it, and thanked him for the great memories.

The coveted mylar jacket

Debbie got the photo and results, but I got the medal

Suzanne, Shelly, Janet, Christine, and me

Best running partner ever!

Wearing the medals!

Amy Keene marathon morning--as pretty as ever!

Marathon #37: Green Bay Wisconsin, May, 2014

My rationale behind running the Green Bay marathon was to see if I could run two marathons 6 weeks apart successfully, and to knock off another state in the event that I ever decide to commit to the 50 state club. The Green Bay marathon caught my eye because it's primarily centered around Lambeau Field and the Green Bay Packers. Not that I am a cheesehead, but I really liked the uniqueness of the theme.  The course description read well, with lots of variety in scenery and primarily FLAT, yes! In conclusion, I loved just about everything about this marathon and the trip to Green Bay. I highly recommend this one! Ok, so onward to the nitty gritty, if you are interested...

The expo was held in the atrium of Lambeau Field. A modest expo, but being in and around Lambeau was huge. Even though it's a grand stadium that seats over 80,000 people it feels intimate. Even the neighboring houses are really close, as if it was a high school stadium. This would be the start/finish location of the marathon.

Race day morning was sunny and cool, in the low 50's, and a bit breezy. They are behind us seasonally by a couple of months, with tulips blooming and the trees just starting to bud. The marathon started at 7, an hour earlier than the half, which I prefer, although we did have the relay runners in with us, which was good. A lot of energy to be had at their relay exchange zones! Anyhow, I just want to mention that we had a man beautifully sing the National Anthem before we took off, which was so meaningful and so nice to hear after the horrendous butcher job we experienced at Yakima!

the look of excitement

 I waved to Toby as we took off, knowing I'd see him several times during the run. I told him to go hang out and have some fun, but no, he popped up everywhere. It was funny. One time I didn't expect to see him and was in the zone and he suddenly popped out at me and said, "Boo". Anyhow, he took all these pictures posted in this blog!

I know it's strange, but my least favorite miles are usually the first 10 miles or so. This marathon was no exception. The first 10 miles were actually the least interesting, with a jaunt into a fairly new, concrete dense suburb. I saw Toby somewhere here, said something negative, and he said not to worry, the bike path was just ahead. The bike path portion of this course was AWESOME! For about 6 miles or so we ran along the Fox river on a narrow, tree lined bike path. We were shielded by the wind and best of all, all asphalt. (I need to mention that there was a lot of concrete on this course--my only real negative).

Crossing Fox river early on

De Pere Downtown area

Fox River Trail

Fox River Trail

About halfway I was starting to get really hot, so I let a couple of kids shoot me with their water guns. That felt incredible! I didn't panic--just made sure to drink more and take more electrolyte pills, but I knew it was going to get ugly later on! Somewhere after mile 16 we got off the path and ventured into east Green Bay. These neighborhoods were more mature, with more historic architecture and grown trees. Also, there were a lot of neighbors out cheering for us.

We ran through a small park on yet another asphalt bike trail, then we actually ran to the City Stadium, where the Green Bay packers used to play, went inside, and ran a lap around the inside track! They were playing old music, and while I was in there "Dock of the Bay" by Otis Redding was finishing up, and then the song, "Stuck in the Middle With You" came on. "Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right. Here I am. Stuck in the middle with you!" Kind of appropriate!

After that little adventure we headed back to the Fox River Trail and ran through this tunnel where they had this interactive artwork display lining the tunnel. They were metal fish sculptures that lit up with various colors as we ran through. It was really really cool!

During the day the overhead lights are off

We emerged from the tunnel to a lively area where they had a fabricated wall for us to run through. They were blasting "Jump Around" on the promenade as we crossed over the Fox river to return to the stadium. We were on our 21st mile at that point. We ran through downtown Green Bay, which was cool, but from here on out details are a little sketchy. I'm remembering mostly neighborhoods and what seemed like a lot of turns, but looking at the map now I only see a few turns, ha ha. It got rough, not going to lie. I had been feeling pretty decent until we crossed that river. I had to take a few walk breaks and walk the water stops at that point. My calves were starting to cramp up a little too, so I just took it easy. At around mile 24 I could see the stadium--oh so close--and there was a "Parrothead" water stop with MARGARITAS! The salt on the rims of the glasses looked tasty to me! We approached Lambeau Field and they ran us onto the field where we took a lap!! SO COOL! We came out of there and around to the finish line!

Coming onto the field--FUN!

Finish line at last

My only emotional moment where I had to choke back tears was when they handed me this medal. Oh how I love medals, especially this beauty!

15th annual with a spinner football

Toby found me in the madness. When I tried to sit down my left calf went into complete spasms, with me screaming until he sat me down without bending that leg. I had visions of Jamie and an IV in my future, oh no! But after a beer and brats I was ok. The band turned out to be really good. At one point all of us were singing Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" end to end. I must say that it was a really great day to be in Green Bay!

Post race awesomeness

Thank you Toby for everything!!