What do I do now? After the most surreal running experience of my life what do I do next? Coming so close twice in two months is rough, dealing with the reality of the situation is rough, but right now I’m trying to extract the good. I’ve spent too much time dissecting what I’ve done wrong in life to do it again. The truth is given my circumstances and training I did everything I could and fell apart over the last 4 miles. I know I have better marathons in me-trial and error is teaching me what needs to happen to become a good marathoner and I need to become a good marathoner, a good something or I might completely unravel.
I arrived in Phoenix my usual pre-race frazzled self-thinking maybe it would just be best to turn around and get on flight back to my girl, but I knew my amazing support team would lynch me upon arrival. The first thing that made me calm down was a little talking to from Frank Shorter about how the only that we could possibly do for the next couple of days was calm down and relax-2 things my life has been lacking for quite some time! Then it was time to get out of my room and meet the “competition,” but as soon I spent a little time with these women though, it wasn’t a race anymore. It was a collaborative effort toward reaching a common goal. We weren’t competing against each other, but supporting each other. It felt like I was back with my SLU running family hopping into a van for 24 priceless hours to love and laugh and run together. I don’t know how many people have “running families” like mine, but now I feel like I have 2 and I am so grateful. Mama Christine-the crazy mother of 4 was running her 3rd marathon in 3 months and was the first one to vocalize how lucky all were to be together to try and do what we were about to. As soon as she started talking about the real hard work being in the hands of the Hanson boys my nerves sort of floated away and I finally felt calm. This was not a convention of the pro running studs with charmed lives-this was a group of mostly very real women with kids and jobs and struggles exactly like mine and I felt really safe with them. We spent Saturday unnecessarily cramming 9 of our sweaty bodies in to a minivan b/c we couldn’t bear to miss out on the hilarity of “Miss America for Runners.” Sitting around sharing war stories-missing by 25 or 56 or 71 seconds or kids and dogs and husbands-the good and bad-not typical stuff you share with someone you just met 24 hours ago, unless you're secret Phoenix running BFFs. The technical meeting found most of us trying to get a few words or photos in with people like Carrie Tollefson and Katie McGregor (the coolest/fastest mid westerners you’ll ever meet), confessing long forgotten crushes on an unrecognizable Todd Williams, and giving our water bottles our own personal touches-art projects one mad! The Hanson boys were there to reassure us that pacing work would be done and if we just stuck behind the scarlet and gold we would be safe and successful. How did we get so lucky?
Race morning came and I was still calm, still feeling amazed that we were all in this together and genuine in wanted everyone to be successful in the mission. Despite trying to be serious be still found time to make Omar blush and giggle at each other before being pranced out to the start. I’ve had the experience as I have been stepping into the water for an Ironman where I have the “wow we’re all in this together” thought, a brief calm and then “game on.” But this start was different; I didn’t do my best to look intimidating or super crazy. I tucked myself in next to Christine’s positive energy, Melinda’s great sense of humor, and smiled. Frank Shorter and Bernard Lagat wished us good lucked and we were off.
I immediately snuck in right behind Luke (John, the boss) and Pat (George, the GPS) and tried like hell not to step on them. Coach Waldron had instructed me not to get crazy and try to impress the boys with 6:00’s like I had in Philly and I remembered that frequently. The horde spent a better part of the first mile babbling before Luke finally told them to cut down on the talk as they might regret it in the end. Being a talker who was trying to stay calm and conserve (I was being quiet!) I was thankful for his suggestion as they were even driving me a little nuts. I couldn’t stay completely quiet, around 2.5 miles there was a giant billboard to “The Gun Show” and I had to direct attention to it so the boys could flex and give us a “Gun Show” of their own-which they happily did. The next crack came around mile 7 when Jiminy Cricket (Mike Morgan, Ringo) got a little bit ahead and Luke asked where he was going to which I point to a sign and replied “The Emergency Pregnancy Center.” A lot of random thoughts enter your head during a marathon; imagine the thoughts that creep in when you have a pack of 20-30 women closely following a wall of 4 little men. These are the things I wanted to say out loud:
“It’s like you guys are the Beatles and we’re the groupies.” Then I took a few miles to figure out which would John, Paul, George and Ringo, which was followed by me calling them the names in my head.
When I would sneak up and get next to them and we were running in line across the road I wanted to say, “okay boys we’re all cowboys, who wants to be the crazy one that shoots everybody?” I think it would have been Ringo, as Paul (Mike R.) was way too sweet, calm and collected.
“Can anybody feel this electricity?” As the pack had dwindled to 5 or 6 women, a bunch of older guys, and we were all in step.
“Do you think some of these men ahead think they’re actually beating some of America’s best male marathoners?”
A father and daughter cruise by on those stupid stand up scooter things and Ringo just says, “walk” in disgusted tone. I respond, “God bless America” and we all have a good laugh.
Way too many to get them all out! It really was one of the highlights in 18 years of running. They took such good care of us-putting out an arm when we needed to be held back, clearing us a path when runners in front of us were dying. John and Paul even came close to getting in a fight for us with an inefficient, painful to watch runner who wouldn’t get out of the way and just let the pack swallow him even though he was struggle to stay in front. Knowing what a gift I was being handed by having them pace us, I wouldn’t let them go until my body decided otherwise. For 21 miles though, I felt great and hung on. At 21 a couple of women came back to us and the pack took off-it broke my heart a little not to run all 22 with them, but when they pulled over they reassure me that the pace had picked up and I was going to be fine. I ran one more and it started to creep in that I might not be okay-7:03. I hadn’t run a 7-minute mile in a race sense I stumbled through VT City in May. I threw up a couple times and regrouped-deciding no matter what happened I was not packing it in. I would ignore my splits run my hardest and see what happened. The last time I looked at my watch I had about 600 meters left to cover and 30 seconds to do it in. I saw the boys as I made my final turn and shed a couple of tears, regrouped again and tried to finish with a smile before hiding in corner and allowing myself a good, hard cry. A volunteer came up to see if I was okay and wouldn’t leave me alone until I frantically asked him to “just please leave me alone!” Just as I was getting it all out The Beatles, all four of them, came walking up looking just as sad as I felt. I was 1 of I think 2 that were right behind them from the start and even though very few words were exchanged we been through “trials of miles, miles of trials” and suddenly I had four new running brothers that I wasn’t afraid to cry in front of.
I spent very little time obsessing over what went wrong and realized that the past year has been hard, really hard, but running is bringing me back to life. Making wake up and be a better mother, helping me seriously think about where my life needs to go so I can be the kind of woman that is alive and thriving, not stuck in a the same holding pattern I have been in for the past 5 years. I know when things get sorted out and life settles down I can run all the miles I need, give myself the credit I deserve and be a damn good marathoner. My life just hasn’t been settled enough to give it everything I possibly have, so need to be happy with a 2:47.56 and 2:48.10 for now.
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