Quad Cities Marathon

Remember how I always said I would rather run a 10K than a marathon because after a 10K I feel great but after a marathon I may never want to run again? Remember? Because I apparently forgot that bit of wisdom over the past 6 months.

Sunday morning dawned cloudy and cool. I showered, put on my new race shirt, fuel belt with cash and I.D., and a windbreaker and headed on down to the start.

I soaked up the atmosphere. Some runners were milling about. Others were jogging--probably just trying to burn off nervous energy. I just found a place in the starting chute and relaxed. I noticed how many other runners were wearing shirts from other marathons. Eventually I found my pace bunny Marie. Marie is an elementary school phys ed teacher who paces marathons on the weekend...all over the country...every weekend! She has run over 180 marathons and even been on the Wheaties box! So I was in good hands. She would be easy to spot with a bright yellow safety vest, a hat with pace "bunny" ears and a tall sign that said "5 hours".

Instead of a starters pistol they start the race with a cannon blast! Every body started jogging towards the start line then got all bunched up and had to walk a couple of seconds before the running could actually begin. I decided not to use my iPod until mile 22 so that I could hear the whole experience including the bands playing music, other runners chatting, the sound of thousands of footsteps all at once and people cheering us on.

Luckily, the most visually dramatic mile is the first mile. I was still fresh enough to look around as we ran over the mile long I-74 bridge as it crosses the Mississippi river. The sun was just rising. The bridge looks like a green version of the Golden Gate Bridge and it swayed with the rhythm of our footsteps the entire way.

The big hill starts at about mile 2. A whopping 70 feet of elevation stretched out over a mile. This was one of the big draws for me--the race was essentially flat. Most of us ran the hill just fine but a few had to walk.

It was after the hill that I noticed one of the drawbacks of the race. The roads in the Quad Cities are not asphalt, they are concrete. It was just about this time that an old injury began to haunt me in my left foot. I aggravated a minor bruise in my left foot last week and thought it was healed but apparently the concrete brought it back. Within half a mile the pain was starting to make me wonder if I shouldn't just stop.

But how could I stop? I trained over six months. I took a week off work. I flew my wife to the middle of nowhere to run this race. On a warm up race you can quit. But this was my goal race and there would be no quitting.

My wife met me at the 4.5 mile mark just past a Gu station. She cheered me on as I handed her the wind breaker. She told me I looked great and had no idea I was in any pain.

The pace bunny was excellent. Not only did she keep an even pace (more or less...more about that later too) but she chatted the entire time. She told us stories about other races she had won, people who inspired her and close calls she had with her health.

At about the 10K mark I needed the bathroom which was cool since the nearest port o potty was within a mile. There were four of them lined up. Three of them were marked occupied but one was not. I knocked, didn't hear anything and opened the door...to find some lady sitting on the john! I quickly closed the door and was glad a different bathroom became available before the lady came out.

I quickly caught up with my pace bunny and marched on to mile 8 where my brother and sister in law would be waiting. I heard them cheering and gave them a quick thumbs up.

Eventually around mile 9 or 10 we saw a sign that said "All men dream of fishnets." It turned out that the next group of volunteers handing out Gu was the local ladies roller derby team who apparently wear fishnet stockings as part of their uniform. We all appreciated their enthusiasm...

In addition to the live bands there was a gospel singer. But the best musical entertainment were the two bagpipers.

We eventually made our way across the Centennial Bridge and on to Rock Island Arsenal for the grueling miles 13-19. I say grueling because the roads, which were not great to start out with, were in even worse condition. That is to say broken patches of concete and steeply bevelled. It was nice to see the military personnel in full uniform all along the course cheering us on. Our pacing group took the opportunity to thank them for their service.

Speaking of our pacing group, it was at this point that it started to thin out. At the beginning of the run there were about 10 or 12 of us. A few felt the pace was too slow and ran ahead but a few had failed to keep up. By the time we finished mile 18 there were only three of us left. Ahead we could see some of the group that had run ahead and now had slowed down.

By this time, the pain in my left foot had worsened and now my right foot was hurting too. I stopped. I contemplated walking for a while. I saw the pacing group continuing on without me. I almost accepted defeat--and stopping at that point would have been defeat--when I made two good decisions. First, I decided that it hurt to walk as much as it did to run so why not run? Secondly, I decided to use my iPod early. I know I had planned on using it at mile 22 but here at mile 19 I was in pain and needed the inspiration of the music and the guidance of the cadence. I switched on my iPod, focused on the cadence and started running again.

The cadence helped me quickly catch my pacing group. Then a curious thing happened. We could see the 20 mile mark in the distance about 600 meters away. Our pacer looked at her watch and realized that we were about 20 seconds off the pace. She started running faster to make up the time by mile 20. As she ran faster, I started to run faster. With about 200 meters to go she started sprinting so I started sprinting. Quickly it was just me and her as the rest of the group fell behind. When she crossed the timing mats at the 20 mile mark she slowed down...but I couldn't. I was like a caged tiger that had been released. Not only did I not stop, but I sped up.

Maybe it was the music, maybe I was getting impatient with the pain or maybe I was trying to escape the pace bunny's unending yacking. Whatever it was it was euphoric and I felt like a racer again. I flew by other runners. I was laughing, I was crying and I felt like screaming. But most of all I felt like running. Mile 21, 22 and 23 passed. At mile 23 I saw my wife again waiting for me. She cheered as I threw off my sunglasses, toque and fuel belt.

Then the euphoria burned off and the pain came crashing in. Every step on both feet was agony. And I'm not trying to be dramatic. I don't think I can describe it well enough but anyone who has run far enough and long enough knows what I'm talking about. And it wasn't "The Wall". I wasn't tired. I wanted to run. I only had 3 miles to go. I wasn't even sweating or breathing hard. But the pain overwhelmed me.

I walked but I was not defeated. Drawing on past race experiences I used another mental motivational tactic. I remembered why I was running. I thought of my Aunt Julianna, how she lived with rheumatoid arthritis for decades before it killed her. Every step she took felt like I was feeling, maybe even worse. If I ran now, I felt her pain. "You are not forgotten," I yelled at the sky and started running again. The pain was welcome now. I revelled in it. I wanted more. For those few minutes I connected with her and felt her run with me.

The pain overwhelmed me again with 2 miles to go. I stopped and walked and thought of my Uncle Mike. I have one memory of my Uncle Mike. It was my 9th birthday and my family was visiting my mom's relatives in South Dakota. I didn't get much of a birthday party as I can recall. I remember telling my Uncle Mike that it was my birthday. He reached into his pocket and gave me all the money he had and wished me a happy birthday. It was only 75 cents but I never forgot it. He died of a heroin overdose soon after that. "Run with me" I whispered and started running again.

My wife was waiting for my again about half way to the 26 mile marker. The pain was creeping in again. She must have recognized this as I approached. In a moment I will never forget she joined me. We jogged the 500 meters to the 26 mile marker. Finally, in the distance I could make out the finish line. I touched her hand and and told her I loved her and that I would wait for her there. I turned the music up loud and challenged the pain to stop me now. I heard someone yelling my name and recognized my brother Jesse who was waiting for me about 150 meters from the finish, I gave him a high five, picked up my knees and ran as hard as I could.