RR (CMM) 'Till I Collapse - Part III

Race Day
‘Till I Collapse: Eminem & Nate Dogg

'Cause sometimes you feel tired,
feel weak, and when you feel weak,
you feel like you wanna just give up.
But you gotta search within you,
you gotta find that inner strength
and just pull that s--- out of you
and get that motivation to not give up
and not be a quitter,
no matter how bad you wanna just fall
flat on your face and collapse.

Yo left, yo left, yo left right left

Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out
Till my legs give out, can’t shut my mouth.
Till the smoke clears out and my high burns out
I’ma rip this s--- till my bone collapse.

[Verse #2:]Music is like magic there’s a certain feeling you get when your real
and you spit and people are feeling your s---.
This is your moment and every single minute
you spend trying to hold onto itcause you may never get it again.
So while you’re in it try to get as much s--- as you can
and when your run is over just admit when its at its end.
Cause I’m at the end of my wits with half this s--- that gets in. ….
That’s why you see me walk around like nothing’s bothering me….

“Jen. It’s 3:56am.” Wha? Huh? What day is it? Where am I? Who am I?

Wow, talk about one of the best night’s rest ever. Like in the history of man. And, that’s not even taking into consideration that it was a pre-race night. I’d like to bottle that up and sell it to all racers. I would be rich and famous.

Problem is, I’m so out if it I can’t talk. I feel like my tongue has been super-glued to the roof of my mouth and my brain has been taken out, stuffed with cotton, and put back in. I make it to the shower fine. I think I hit the important parts and start to towel off. (Are you cringing yet?) I slip. But, I catch myself –just in time- . Only to hear the scariest Mommy Dearest voice I’ve ever heard. Lisa roars: “What are you doing in there?! You spend 18 weeks of training just to fall down in the tub the day of the race!?!?! What are you thinking? Get out of there NOW!” Okay, okay, Lisa, I’m fine! She doesn’t seem to believe me until she sees me a minute later. Walking, Talking, Breathing. Look mom, no hands! Okay, not funny. Poor lady. Like my mom always said, “Honey, your middle name is not Grace.” Why should today be any different?

Body parts intact, I suit up. I get all dolled up and Lisa takes a picture. It’s a day full of promise. And, I can’t wait to get to that start line! We all meet in the lobby at 5am sharp. We miss the stragglers (sorry guys!), and head to the buses. We’re goofy. Lisa and I are singing Thunderstruck and she impresses me with her Back in Black rendition a few times.

The bus is dead. I’m not sure if people are tired or what (Well, I suppose that would be a logical excuse, considering we had to be up at the butt-crack of dawn to catch the bus from the finish to the start). So, we start making trouble as we exit the bus.

Dan: Hey Marty!
Marty: Yeah?
Dan: You left your smokes on the bus!

Marty: Hey Dan?
Dan: Yessss….
Marty: Is this your Gatorade?
(pregnant pause, holds bottle to light)
Marty: Err, maybe not…

Now, for start areas, this race has it going on. Bananas. Bagels. Water. Fruit. Coffee. With cream and sugar. I mean, heck, it was almost worth it just for the pre-race meal! We sit around for a while, and then I feel the urge to visit the blue box. Could it be? I wait in line, doing the potty dance. Come out a new woman. I’m on the board. NOW I’m ready. I try to contain my glee.

Besides this and other moments, it was amazing to see TRI-DRS Lisa at the start area a few minutes before we headed to the corrals. I mean, what were the chances? 24,000 runners. Milling around in random Brownian motion. Okay, wow. Dork mode off. Anyhoo, it was cool.

We make our way to the corrals, hugs and good lucks all around. I figure I’ll see Dan, Marty and Lisa on one of the out and backs while the two courses are still together. We make plans to look out for each other, and that bolsters me a little.

The corral is empty. Worse than that, I seem to be one of the only peeps with an orange number on. What? Did they call everyone and say, “Hey, that Jen-girl is going to run this marathon… Better wait until next year!” Finally people start coming in, and it gets pretty stuffy, actually. So crowded in fact that Leslie and I get separated. In my mind I wish her luck and hope that I will not be the only de-flowered marathoner by the end of the day.

I chat with a guy who is doing his first ½ marathon. I tell him that so far the half is my favorite distance race. I wish him luck. He looks at my orange race number with googley eyes and asks if I’m running the marathon. I say yes. Then he asks if I’m going to run without an ipod. I say yes again. More googley eyes. Okay, thanks for making me feel like a total and complete nutter, but this IS part of the Rock ‘N’ Roll series, is it not? There is a band almost every single mile. So, who’s the nutter now? No harm, no fowl, so I give him a smile and move to the side. Do NOT rain on my parade.

The wheelchair racers take off. I wonder… Why didn’t we sing the National Anthem for them? Are they not worthy? 15 minutes later, we sing. Actually, I think this is the first race where there was more listening than singing. What a beautiful voice!

Then they start letting the corrals go. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7… Ooh, only 6 more. I take my heart rate. 70. Uh, okay, can we get a little excitement here? I mean this IS your first marathon and all? How about 80? Or is that breaking too much of a sweat?

Corrals 8-9-10. HRM: 89. Okay, there we go. At least I know I’m alive now! I’m still a little impressed at my calm. Finally, it’s our turn. I start my HRM (103… Here we go!) and cross the mat to a chorus of beeeeeeeps. We’re off.

My first thought is neither glorious nor worthy of one’s first marathon. “I have to pee.” Mile 1 ticks by at a gloriously low HR of 130-something and a time of 11:20. Perfect for the start. I begin to think that today is going to be the perfect day. It’s cloudy, the sun is peaking out just a tad and there is a cool breeze. Ahhhh. I’m here with 24,000 of my running friends, and we get to tour Nashville on foot. Oh glorious day!

I get to the first water station. Even though we did the wave start, it’s still pretty crowded. I’m at the left side of the road, and water is on the right. I panic. I run right across the road, and in the process miss the only table I can see. I turn around (!) and run back to the table, cursing myself the entire time. I have now run backwards on a marathon course. I could have passed it, but it’s another mile until water or anything, and that just doesn’t seem like a good idea, you know? It doesn’t dawn on me until I get moving again (and see like 15 tables laden with liquid) how ridiculous it was to think that there would only be a single table at a water stop for a race of 24,000 people. Come on Jen, use those brains!

Mile 2: I really have to pee. I see people going into the McDonald’s but that doesn’t seem like a good idea. I’m picturing a line. Finally I see the first set of blue boxes… With 4 lines 7 people deep. Oh come on! That’s going to take like 10 minutes! I figure I’ll wait until Mile 3 (or pee myself trying). I bet the blue boxes will be nearly empty then, because all of these silly people will have peed already.

Mile 3: Ha ha! I finally see boxes. And NO line. Go me. In and out we go. Much better! Now, all this time my HR was super great. It crept up to 150, but stayed there. I was feeling great. My 5K time was around 36 minutes, but that was with the bathroom break. By mile 4, I was back on track with a split of 11:20ish. I start to formulate a HR plan for the race 150 for next couple of miles then 160 would be okay. 170s for the end. MAYBE 180.

Right about now, I notice that it’s getting warmer. The sun is out. I feel pretty good, but there is something gnawing at the back of my head… I can’t quite figure it out. I start to see the HR creep a bit, but I figure it’s because I’m in the midst of the race, and the excitement is causing the creep.

Now I start to look for Dan, Lisa, and Marty. See, this course is super great if you’re running with friends, as it is like a 3-leaf clover with 3 chances to see those at different paces, as they return. The course is cramped here, and moving is tough, but I stick to the left hand side (the middle of the road). I’m looking for the black ensemble of Marty and Lisa, but it’s Dan who catches my eye first, leading the trio. He asks how I’m doing: “Okay!” Then Marty and Lisa and I air-five. It was such a lift to see them! It carries me for the next two miles.

So far the bands and crowd support have been great. It’s still a tad crowded, but I’m running my own race now. I’m in the bubble. The course is a bit hilly, but nothing like my training runs. I don’t even have to do my 2 feet trick. I’m motoring up and down, concentrating on form and breathing easily.

I get to the first turn around and realize just how much of a down hill it had been. Cuz now we’re going up, up, up…. I sneak a peak at my watch. Uh Oh. 170. No, that’s not good. I start to bargain. How about 160-170 on the hills, recover on the downhills and shoot for 160 on the flats? Yeah, that will work.

Mile 6-7: Realization dawns. I’m going down, breathing easy. But my HR doesn’t seem to get it. 170. Holy crap. My heart sinks. What the hell is going on? I’m running great. My breathing is very easy. I feel good. Hang on. Hang on, Just. One. Minute. I’m HOT. (Cue angelic music.) By Jones, I’ve got it! I mentally smack myself on the forehead, and realize that this is new. I have trained in nice cool Massachusetts air. This is hot. A tad windy. A little hilly. I’m in mile 7 and my HR refuses to go below 170 (for those keeping track at home, my max is 205, so you should know that I’m in my 3rd zone… not really where I want to be with 19 miles to go.)

Decision time. I can either start walking now (No.), or I can see what all of that training and mental preparation can do for me. I’m going to up the water and powerade intake, too. Not just one cup. Take two. If they have Powerade, take that instead of water. Be absolutely anal about the gels. Don’t miss any. I’m thinking (now that I figured out the problem… duh… still a little ashamed it took me that long.) that I can still do this if I’m smart. And, if I’m lucky, that sub 5 hours will still be waiting for me.

I carry on with the new plan, only looking at the HR as an “interesting” number now (although anything below 180 is now an achievement). In fact, I’m barely looking at all. And, the new plan seems to be working! I reach mile 10 at 1:57. I do a little math (still able to do that) and realize that if I keep it up, I could reach mile 20 before 4 hours, which would put me within striking distance of that sub 5 hour. I know I’m meeting Dan at mile 20, so with his help I should be able to do it, barring any unforeseen issues….