Marathon Stories

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 #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 #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 #4: Marine Corps Marathon, October 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 thin

k 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 #5: Ft. Worth Cowtown Marathon, Feb 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 #6: The Houston Marathon, Jan 1998:

Refer back to a previous blog titled, "The Marathons I Don't Want to Write about". That era began at this marathon, but in truth it began somewhere before then, clearly after the Cowtown marathon in 1997, where I had ran a 3:48 and confidently thought a 3:45 marathon on a flatter course would be a no-brainer. A lot of my friends were either trying to qualify for Boston or had already qualified, so there was a lot of activity surrounding a potential group trip to Boston, hence a lot of pressure for me to qualify. Amy Jacoby had already qualified and really wanted me to go with her, so she volunteered to pace me at Houston. So before I even got to Houston it was decided that I was going to run an 8:30 pace, do or die. I would reach mile 20 at 2:50 elapsed time, and at that point Toby would run me in. It was going to go down like that, no matter what.

Flash forward to race day morning. It was 65 degrees and humid, very humid. Rational minds would say today was not that day, slow down and enjoy the ride. But no, dammit, I was going to make it happen. It was obvious to me from the start of the race that the pace was too fast for me in those conditions, but I refused to slow it down. Amy and I ran together and did indeed hit mile 20 at 2:49:59! We were killing it, but I could feel that it wasn't going to last. I could feel the cramping starting in and the impending doom...just waiting for the wheels to fly off! I had told Toby that if I was on pace at mile 20 to keep me going no matter what, but when I saw him I immediately said to ignore what I told him! I was unraveling! Amy went ahead, and Toby had to deal with the disastrous aftermath! The last 10K  took me 59 minutes. I would have to stop and catch my breath and/or fight off the urge to throw up. I ended up running a 3:49:54. Not only did I not qualify for Boston, but I didn't run a PR either. It didn't matter that I had finished yet another marathon. It was a huge disappointment. I wish I had more to add to the race day story, but truthfully it was all a blur. I'm still grateful for Amy for trying her best to get me there. She did end up finishing with a 3:45 that day!

Years later, when I ran Amelie in for the last 10K of her marathon at Houston I was surprised by how pleasant the scenery was. All I remember of the last 10K was concrete.  I have always considered Houston one of my least favorite marathons, but I don't think I've judged it fairly, since I don't remember most of it. As far as organization goes it was top notch and still is.

Here is a photo of us marathoners before the race. I want to point out a few things. First, this is the first marathon Kathy and I ran in together! Number 2221 with the short hair! Amy and I were still running for Run-On, hence her Run-On jog bra.I probably got in trouble for not wearing their apparel! Although in hindsight, maybe not, ha ha. The guys, all three of them dropped out of the race! Ok, I am not entirely sure about Tom, but I know Doug and Jim did. They dropped out and hung out at mile 20 with Toby. As Kathy ran by she yelled out to Jim to help her qualify, because she was struggling, and he did, and she did! (She had to run a 3:40 and made it).

I can't even bring myself to scan the pictures taken of me along the course. They are truly hideous. Oh perhaps I should scan just one and call it "therapy". Before you laugh just remember that we are all a work in progress...

closing my eyes didn't make it go away

The headband and the shorts..and the big clunky white shoes...oh my!

Perhaps I'll run this marathon again someday and come full circle with it. Oh and yes, get a medal. In 1998 we got nice glass beer mugs, but no medal. Sadly, I had the nerve to think I didn't deserve one that day, which was just wrong.

Marathon #7: The San Diego Rock and Roll Marathon, June 1998:

Inaugural Course

The Competitor group began with its first ever Rock and Roll Marathon in San Diego on June 21, 1998. It had a record-breaking inaugural headcount of roughly 18,000 participants, with the promise of live band performances at every mile. We had a huge contingent from our local running group running the full, and one 5 person relay team, which included my husband of 3 weeks, Toby Linder! For me, this was a good way to show off my "hometown" to my new husband and to get the opportunity to run a marathon in familiar territory.  We knew the Competitor group was biting off more than they could chew with their ridiculous headcount, so right away we knew to dial down our expectations of an organized race, and in my mind I knew I wanted to "enjoy the day", so no PR or Boston qualifying goals.

There were four of us who planned on running together, Me, Amy Jacoby, Kathy, and Nancy Scholberg (from our relay team Texas Roadkill).  We all wore the same outfit, Texas flag shorts and matching jog bras. Before the race start, which was delayed by over 40 minutes, I got separated from them and wandered about the corrals until I heard my name being chanted over and over in the distance. When I finally found them, the surrounding people started clapping and cheering. I'll never forget that ridiculous moment! It was already about 65 degrees, and the June gloom marine layer was already long gone. I assumed (correctly) that the water stops would be utter chaos, so I actually carried my own bottle for most of the race. Some water stops were either under-staffed or were quickly running out of supplies. The four of us only remained together until about mile 7 or so. Amy and I fell back as it continued to heat up. At this point the course was just hideous, as it ran along Sea World Drive out in the middle of nowhere. It also became obvious that there would be very little in the way of musical entertainment on the course as promised, but this did not surprise me. Still, as we approached the Mission Bay area the scenery improved. Somewhere around mile 14 or so Amy dropped off, but then I ran into Kathy and Nancy again. I can't recall how long we stayed together, if at all, but I do know Toby handed me a full water bottle somewhere along this stretch. From the beginning he was my hero!

The husband, 3 weeks in...

At around miles 18-19 we entered the on-ramp to the Pacific Highway (no I am not kidding), and exited near the Naval Training Center and actually ran inside the center for a bit. From there were ended up on North Harbor Drive, which was just stunning to run along. We actually ran along Harbor Drive all the way back into downtown San Diego, where the finish line was. The only glitch was at some point we had to run up (and then down) a make-shift plywood bridge, which isn't normally a big deal, but it proved difficult at miles 22-23. The finish was absolute chaos, but we were all able to find one another eventually.  (Times: Kathy 3:51, me: 3:58, Nancy: 4:03, and Amy: 4:12. Not bad for such a hot mess).

The first of many finish line photos with Kathy

Later that evening we ventured over to the cove (That's La Jolla Cove to you non San Diegans) with snacks and champagne to watch the sun set. A spectacular ending to a crazy day!

For what it matters, the course we ran in 1998 was never again replicated, and I believe it took them several years to dial in a course they felt satisfied with.  I like the map they have for 2015, and with a May race date, even better. Still, I'm glad we ran it and can tell people we were there when the Rock and Roll series began.