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!