Hilary's Kidney Donation and One-Kidney Marathon Blog

After my first marathon, and again when I found out I got into the New York Marathon, I thought for my next I’d do a more rigorous training plan than the Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer, which I used for the two previous marathons I’ve done. It’s the most basic possible plan, with even less mileage than Hal Higdon’s Novice 1. I was thinking five running days, longer long runs, speedwork, more total mileage…

But when I got down to actual planning and read this Runner’s World article which says that beginners “may start with 15 to 20 miles per week total and gradually build to a peak week of 35 to 40 miles” and “More experienced runners may start at 35 or more miles per week and peak at 50 or more miles,” I rethought. My typical weekly mileage is only 10-12. I’m going to be working extra hours this summer and only have two weekdays where I can get in a little late. Plus I already bike commute whenever I can, which is about 50-80 miles a week, and walk/hike plenty. When my mother helpfully asked what the benefits of a more strenuous plan would be, I realized for me there wasn’t much. I’m not likely to beat my time from Steamtown, which is a faster course anyway, now that I’m a decade and a half older. And no way would it be a big jump, like getting to 4.5 or under 4.

Having used the NRMT plan twice, I know it will get me strong enough to run another one with enjoyment, which is my primary goal, and full of confidence that I will finish. I’d love to break 5 hours again (which would mean improving by 8:20 over Rochester in 2016), but really I just want to savor this experience to the fullest. Since I’m so slow, even adding one more short run per week is another hour or two.  Not worth it! But I will add some tweaks:

1. I’ve been doing intervals once a week; keep those and make that part of the first short run (Tuesdays).
2. The first part of the short run could be a tempo run. This seemed like a good idea until I read articles on combo workouts (“Michigans“) that mention how challenging they are. I think it’s worth trying, though. I’ll have a rest day on either side of this short-but-hard day.
3. I’ll do the second short run back-to-back with the long run (Saturday/Sunday), instead of having a rest day on either side. Jen Miller gave me this idea when describing the Hansons Marathon Method of “running on tired legs.” But no six-day weeks for me!
4. Strength training is something I pick up for a while and drop again, but I know it’s valuable. Whether weights or kettlebell, I’ll try to do one session a week.

But I will listen to my body and drop back to basics if I need to. In both previous marathon ramp-ups a minor injury cropped up, so I’m prepared that might happen again. I’ll be flexible!

NRMT is a 16-week schedule and I need a few weeks to ramp up from my current mileage to 15, so it times out well to start mid-July. I have a few races fitted in already, plus I’ll hope to add the Frozen Yogurt 5K if it happens for the 5th year—no, we’ll be out of town—and Kestrel Land Trust’s 5K for Farmland once they announce the date—rats, no, it’s the same date as the Happier Valley Half!

	date (Mon)	Tue	Thu	Sat	Sun	Total
week 1	Jul 16	3	3	3	6	15
week 2	Jul 23	3	4	3	6	16
week 3	Jul 30	3	4	3	7	17
week 4	Aug 6	3	5	3	8	19
week 5	Aug 13	3	3	5 – Bridge of Flowers	10	21
week 6	Aug 20	4	5	4	11	24
week 7	Aug 27	4	6	4	12 – Faxon Law 20 K	26
week 8	Sep 3	4	6	4	14	28
week 9	Sep 10	4	7	4	16	31
week 10	Sep 17	5	8	5	16	34
week 11	Sep 24	5	8	5	16	34
week 12	Oct 1	5	8	5	18	36
week 13	Oct 8	5	8	5	18	36
week 14	Oct 15	5	8	0	13.1 – Happy Valley Half	26.1
week 15	Oct 22	3	5	3	8	19
week 16	Oct 29	3	3	walk 3	26.2	32.2

 

My marathon goals for May are to plan my training routine and figure out some baseline/benchmarks. I don’t have much of the month left! As benchmarks, I want to find my accurate heart rate monitor (not the Fitbit, which is fine for a general impression but not reliable for high heart rates) to see what my max HR is these days, and run a track mile for time, but I also wanted to get an idea of what my current 5K best is. I ran the RunWestfield on May 19th.

I’ve had two annoying experiences over the past year where I ran a proper timed race with a chip, thought I had set a personal record, and discovered that the course was short. Up until 2017, the only time I had broken 30 minutes in a 5K was at the 2003 Chris Thater Memorial in Binghamton, which is a flat, fast course. I keep thinking I could do it again. Last year, as part of a goal to run all the races that are close to home, I ran a new-ish 5K, the Splash of Color (it had been a fun run for a number of years and started a timed race in 2016). It was a flat course and I was in good shape, but it was a very hot and humid day and I didn’t think I was doing particularly well. When I got to the finish line and saw 27-something on the clock, I was ecstatic! Jonathan was waiting for me and I kept telling him, “Wow wow wow, I can’t believe it!” and we were both so proud. It was only a few hours later that it occurred to me to check the course on Map My Run. Sad trombone… it was about 2.8 miles instead of 3.1. So I might have been close to 30 minutes or even under, but no way of knowing. Then, I ran a perennial favorite, the UMass Dash & Dine, in April. It was a new course last year and I remember thinking it was a great time for me (not a PR), but again this year I was astonished and psyched to come in at 29:12. This time I didn’t let myself get too excited, and soon, as I was chatting with another runner in the dining hall (the Dine part of the Dash and Dine is the all-you-can-eat award-winning UMass dining hall, which is a real treat), he said “I think it was a short course.” Sure enough, when I got home, it turned out to be just shy of 3 miles. So again I might have broken 30, but not officially. These races are fundraisers and I don’t begrudge the money per se, but what’s the point of using all the fancy timing equipment if the course isn’t accurate?

So although Westfield is a little further than I would normally drive for just a 5K, when I saw that the course was USATF-certified and also marketed as “America’s Fastest 5K,” I thought this was my chance to get an actually-accurate 5K time. And yes, I broke 30! My official time is showing as 29:54, two whole seconds faster than 2003, but based on my watch I think that’s gun time and not chip time. I contacted them to check and didn’t hear back, but it’s likely that it was closer to 29:35 (still annoying not to know for sure…)

It was a miserable start, in a giant parking lot associated with Westfield State University but out of sight of any interesting buildings. The weather was rainy and cold so I huddled in the car until close to the 1pm start, trying to decide if I wanted to run in a jacket or not. I’m glad I didn’t; this is part of gearing up for the marathon, getting back in the habit of running no matter the conditions. Look at the poor Boston Marathon runners this year! In the starting corral, I found the Walkers post and tried to wiggle a little beyond it. Then I was drawn by this ridiculous-looking thing, a “Beer Guy” sculpture on a jogging stroller base:

    

The top has a bubble machine and there’s a sound system on it too.

Finally we were off. After a slight uphill from the parking lot and the turn onto the main street, the route goes straight down Western Ave, past the nice campus, Stanley Park (where a weekly trail run is held on Mondays during the summer), and beautiful homes and yards. It’s pretty much a gentle downhill the whole way. There was a digital readout at mile 1,  which was absolutely great—so much better than trying to peer at my watch or listen for a volunteer calling out times. I was at about 10:40 for the first mile which seemed OK. I heard “Shout” coming from behind, interspersed with loud horn beeps, and it was Beer Guy gaining on me. He passed fairly quickly, just as the song changed to “Do The Locomotion,” and I yelled that it was motivating to try and beat him. I was able to pass again a little later, just because one of his doo-dads fell off, but pretty soon he was way out ahead.

I’ve been starting 5Ks a little faster but still conservative. At mile 2 there was another digital clock—thank you,  RaceWire!—which as I recall was around 21, so  I knew I was doing well and a PR might be in reach. I had no idea where the finish line actually was but I figured we had to be close once we passed the shuttle bus stop. We turned left on Elm and the finish was in sight. There wasn’t anybody in particular to pick off in the sprint but I tore into it (and it was crowded enough that the camera didn’t catch me crossing the finish line, but here I am between two people right before). I was sure that since the clock was just under 30 that I’d be safe with the chip time; thank goodness it wasn’t closer, so it’s still a PR!

There wasn’t anything besides water for the runners, which was disappointing, but a bank handed out popcorn and I got a sample of kettle corn (“French Toast,” surprising good). I would have gotten beer but the stand also offered bottled “margarita” malt beverage, surprisingly decent. I checked out the “Westfield On Weekends” art classes gallery, a few shops, and the beautiful and historic Westfield Athaneum public library. One of the coolest sights was this “Unlimited High Fives” artwork:

Postcards promoting a race series for Westfield’s 350th anniversary were all over. I thought it was this year and would have integrated it into my training, but it’s 2019. I might try to do that (if you run 5 races you get a jacket… I’m all about the swag!)

 

When I started this blog about my Steamtown marathon experience, in March 2004, blogging was very well-established already (I had Blogger to use and didn’t have to hand-code all the links!), but not so ubiquitous that every possible niche was overfull. I found the original Running Blog Family, or they found me, that summer, and wow, mine is one of the few on that list of 35 founders that still exists (not continuously because the Blogger –> WordPress multisite -> regular WordPress migration resulted in years of outages)—but I can’t imagine how many running blogs there must be now. Even “marathon blog” in quotes gets 43K+ results. Back in 2004 I didn’t expect many readers and my expectations were confirmed. Why on earth blog now? In order of likelihood:

• Primarily for me, as a journal. The platform gives me links and search and cloud storage and images and legibility, all missing from my (still-extant) handwritten journal, so that I can refer back to how my training went etc. As an Obliger (Gretchen Rubin’s classification which I personally find very helpful), the public-even-if-nobody-reads aspect is enough of an external obligation to get me to finish and somewhat-polish the writing, which is really tough for me otherwise. The Rochester marathon is a blur in comparison with Steamtown—partly because it wasn’t the first time around, but I think mainly because the exercise of writing and the ability to re-read cemented the memories in a way non-documented recall just doesn’t. It even feels more recent in time, in a weird way! And finally because the discipline of writing is inherently good for me. I’ve finished one book (unpublished, natch) and have two more projects in the works; the act of describing anything in words, whether it’s a real or imagined scene, uses the same muscles.
• A distant second (because everyone is so busy): for friends and family who might be interested.
• Even more unlikely: for web searchers who might find something useful (I’ll design my own training schedule, and post about using dates instead of energy drink, minimal shoes, etc.). My concentration grid game actually gets a few thousand visits a month so it’s not impossible, but it was up continuously since 2004, and the search stats for any of my blogs are quite pathetic.
• Finally and least likely: I will always remember how much Hollie’s 2003 marathon blog (long long gone) helped and inspired me, and maybe there’s one person out there who needs something like that and will find this. I loved her level of detail and her frankness, and it convinced me I could do it. Really, truly, if you can run at all you can complete a marathon—although I always follow that up by saying you shouldn’t force yourself if you don’t like running!

I ran my first marathon, Steamtown in 2004, to see if I could do it once. It was a great experience, but I was happy to wait a decade to do another—the training is so time-consuming! I quickly reverted to my weekly long run being 5 miles and my typical race being a 5K. At 50, in 2015, I ran the Rochester Marathon with my sister-in-law. It was fun but I didn’t take the time to blog about it, and it’s so much less vivid to me now! Somewhere along the line, when I realized that New York wasn’t one you could be sure of getting into, I started entering the lottery almost every year (more consistently now that it’s free), figuring if I got in, it would be totally worth it. Despite the time and effort. Despite the cost (this is by far the most expensive race I’ve ever entered). Why? A bunch of reasons, in the order they come to me:

• The biggest marathon in the world! I can’t really imagine what that’s like. The largest field I’ve been a part of is probably the Hot Chocolate Run, with 6,000 runners and walkers. NYCM is more than 50,000! The size alone is fascinating to me.
• My home town! I was born and grew up in Manhattan and my mother and step-father still live there.
• All five boroughs! Someday I want to do the Five Boro Bike Tour but I haven’t made it yet. I love the idea of seeing the whole city and crossing so many bridges.
• Bedford Avenue! It’s the longest street in Brooklyn. My brother lived in Williamsburg for a long time and founded Nada Surf there; he’s the one who told me how cool it was to watch it go by.
• The race director greets the last finishers! And now the elite racers join him. I’m slow enough that that really means a lot to me. At Steamtown I felt the pressure of “the course closes in 6 hours” (even though I ultimately broke 5 hours). I hated the one time I had the pace car right behind me in the Montrose 4th of July 10K (tiny field, pouring rain) and I now pick races so they’re big enough that I won’t be dead last, but I really sympathize with people who are and know they work as hard as anyone. A slow runner spends as much time on a marathon as an ultra! Races that treats slow finishers with dignity are special.
• The crowd support! A million spectators? Wow. I love the description of the roar on 1st Avenue coming off the Queensboro Bridge. I really fed off the crowd energy for Steamtown, not that the smaller scale in Rochester was a negative—in fact, I enjoyed the peaceful stretches, and it was just a different experience—but I’m excited to feel it on a completely different scale.
• The expo! I’ve enjoyed all the ones I’ve been to, but again they’ve been tiny compared to the Javits Center. 100+ exhibitors!
• It’s an international destination event! I’ve yet to run a race that had participants much beyond the US. This draws people from 100+ countries!
• The swag! The bigger the race the more there must be, and the poncho looks fantastic. I am prepared that there might not be much variety for food… hard to beat the beer/cider donuts/veggie dogs type of spreads I get in the Valley.

All in all, a mass participation spectacle—I’m there!

I am incredibly excited to be running the TCS New York City Marathon on November 4th! I got in through the lottery, which I’ve been entering for years. This will be my third marathon; I didn’t blog the second and I sort of regret it, because it’s so valuable for me to do so. But it would be silly to start a whole new blog, so I’ll revamp this one from Steamtown/”a record of my 2004 adventure” to New York, keeping the old posts. If you want to read the original, it starts with About Me in March 2004 and ends with many long posts about the marathon and the aftermath in October 2004. I’ll probably follow a similar format. More to come!

I moved to WordPress in 2010 but ran into issues – all straightened out now seven years later. Whew! I’ll keep this up because I go back to it sometimes myself, and when I was training for my first marathon I read as many of these blogs as I could.

One more post because this site is still getting visits (thanks for stopping by) and I’m experimenting with Google ads to see how they work.

Coming up on five months post-marathon, and my toes are still funny-looking! (I’ve hardly been running–too much snow–so it’s not because of ongoing training.) Two toes are still partly black and three more have distorted nails. Now I really get why Marisa calls her blog “Ugly Toes.”

The Running Blog Family has 188 entries now! Way to go Mark! If you’re a runner, don’t miss it–the collective amount of knowledge and support is outstanding.

P.S. I did successfully complete NaNoWriMo and now I’m embarking on NaNoEdMo. I’m a marathoner, I can do anything! :*)

Three weeks post-marathon, and everything is back to normal. I’ve started a new on-going blog about running and writing and everything else at salticid.com/kogblog called “Keep on Going,” so this is the final post in this blog. Here’s a link to the interactive Number Concentration Table game (as recommended in The Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer for learning focus), because that’s a small but I hope lasting contribution to the online running community.

I have one more marathon-related anecdote (it’s gross if you’re not a runner, so consider yourself warned). The week after the marathon we visited my family in New York. I did quite a bit of walking in my everyday shoes and must have irritated the middle black toe on my left foot. It started to feel warm and sore the day after we got back. That night I couldn’t get to sleep because it was hurting so badly. I saw that behind the blackened area, there was an inflammation with pus building up under the nail and causing the pain. I didn’t want to have to go to the emergency room (especially because the nearest one is still half-an-hour away) for something so trivial, and anyway I knew they’d prescribe antibiotics which I try to avoid whenever possible. (Please, let’s save them for when we NEED them & not help generate resistant bacteria by overprescribing antibiotics for minor ailments! Don’t get me started on antibiotics in animal feed–how could that EVER be considered a good idea…) I remembered someone saying he drills a hole (!) through the top of the nail to relieve the pressure, but that sounded a little too drastic. I soaked my foot in hot water for 10 minutes, then sterilized a sewing needle and pushed it in just under the nail–to my surprise, it didn’t even hurt because of course the black area was dead anyway. Some pus flowed out, I worked on it a little more, and soon it felt much better and I was able to go to sleep. The toe feels completely normal now. All four black toes have kept their nails so far and the color has faded a little bit.

Happy running, all!

Numbers

There were 1755 Steamtown registrants, but only 1490 finishers. Once my actual chip time came through (4:50:20), I moved up one rank to #1317. 86th out of 96 women 35-40.

Splits: 1-10:18, 2-10:41, 3-11:13, 4-9:56, 5-10:35, 6-10:24, 7-11:33, 8-10:37, 9-11:39, 10-10:32, 11-11:03, 12-10:56, 13-10:41, 14-11:27, 15-10:58, 16-11:46, 17-10:50, 18-11:53, 19-11:28, 20-11:35, 21-15:10 (changing socks!), 22-9:58, 23-11:07, 24-11:06, 25-10:04, 26-10:42, 26.2-2:23. Average 11:08 pace.

Thanks to a combination of the bib number list, the finishing list, and the race photos, I’ve found everybody I remember from the run except the Gallowalkers. Emmy, my neighbor at the start, finished in 4:41:57; the loud young teacher in 5:19:55. Donald Teague did 5:05:58 and didn’t even place! He’s placed in his two previous Steamtowns because there were no more than 3 in the men 70 & up. The oldest woman was 65. I definitely want to run a marathon when I’m in my 70s so I can finally get a win. But by the time I’m that age, many more older women will be running and I’ll still get shut out…

Celebration!

When we got home, I took a shower and examined my feet. Not too bad! No blisters, just a little chafing on one foot. My 4 black toenails definitely looked like I’d pushed them a little further over the edge, and the end of both next-to-smallest toes are rubbed a little raw. Other than that, no problems. I certainly felt somewhat sore and stiff, but not on the verge of collapse or anything. I made celebratory phone calls & otherwise just relaxed and basked in the joy of accomplishment.

The best thing that happened Saturday, which I didn’t even mention yet, was related to the champagne I asked Jonathan to get for our Sunday celebration. When I got home from the expo, he said it was chilling and said “I hope you’ll like the brand.” I didn’t think much of it–we like the same stuff, I was sure it would be good–but he repeated it a little later and finally said I should look at it. So here’s what I saw:

[that’s a custom label he made with my “running puppy” logo (itself a Jonathan drawing from two decades ago)] It made me cry then and it made me smile extra on Sunday night! And here’s the “I did it!” photo:

It was an evening of perfect happiness.

I had to take some ibuprofen to get through the night comfortably, and on Monday I definitely felt more sore than after my long training runs. But I went for a nice long hike in the woods to keep myself stretched out, and that was great. I feel almost back to normal today (Wednesday).

I wore my medal to work Tuesday and Wednesday, but I’ll stop now. My co-worker Betty and her husband Bob (a surfer) gave me this great cheesy surfing trophy:

It says “Steamtown Marathon/Hilary/’Placed Good'”!

The photos are finally up today! They’re at runphotos.com. There are 9 and most are OK, but the prices are so high that I’ll probably just get one or maybe two. It is great that there were so many photographers out there & so much to choose from, but I wish there was some kind of discount package…

Reflections

What went right?

• Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer is the greatest!
• I followed the schedule to the letter.
• The weather was absolutely perfect.
• Training on the hills around here paid off big-time. In fact, the Montrose 5K is much harder, in terms of terrain, than Steamtown–it’s got worse downhills and uphills.
• The way I broke the race down psychologically worked like a charm for me.
• My hydration schedule was fine.
• The superb organization & crowd support really helped.

What would I have done differently?

• Don’t risk missing a water stop!
• Just my name on both front & back of the shirt.
• Put on fresh socks w/blister power right before the race starts.
• Use the lace tabs on the tongue of my shoes!
• I probably wouldn’t bother to change socks next time; it wasn’t worth 4 minutes.

Was it worth it, all the time and energy and money? Absolutely. It was a peak experience, just like I wanted. I have to say that I don’t feel like it’s changed my life, though. Maybe it’s partly because my race went so perfectly that I didn’t ever “go to my very limits and beyond.” Jonathan thinks that’s a silly thing to regret, and it’s not exactly that I regret it; I just wonder, when I read about Mark‘s heroic struggle, would I have be able to do that? And I tell myself, YES, I am a marathoner!…but it’s not quite the same as having experienced that dark place and come through it. “OK, so just run another one!” Although I have some marathon goals for the future–I’d like to run New York with my brother some day, if he ever seriously wants to, and if I ever got fast enough to have a shot at qualifying for Boston, I certainly would want to do that–I can’t see doing it again soon. Maybe before I turn 50. Just too time-consuming. But I will certainly keep running! It would be cool to be able to do an 8-12 mile long run every week, but it’s going to be hard to get any more than 2 miles in on a normal weekday. I’ll try, though. I want to run a 10K for the first time, and eventually beat 1 hour if I can. I’d love to break 28 minutes for a 5K. I’ll be into running more shorter races. And biking–I’ll do more biking.

I will get faster if I work at it. I didn’t do any speed training; I also could lose some more weight without becoming emaciated–not entirely sure it’s worth the effort, but it would help my speed. I didn’t take the time to seriously get into the ChiRunning principles, and I think that could help.

What’s next?

I am flirting with the idea of doing National Novel Writing Month as a crazy follow-up project to this one. There are so many things that appeal: the logo is a marathoner carrying a giant pencil! the guy who started it suggests wearing a special piece of clothing to help you be in the frame of mind to write, and I can wear my medal! this is supposed to have taught me that I can do anything if I set my mind to it! (and Jonathan told me very seriously that if I want to, he has perfect faith that I will) I’ve written more than the word goal per day (1,667) in this blog since the marathon! But I haven’t decided yet. I don’t want to commit myself if there’s a chance I’m just setting mysef up for failure.

At any rate, I don’t know how much longer/what I’ll write in this blog. But I’ll leave it up and hope that it helps one other person the way Hollie‘s helped me. It’s been great–and I’m telling you, if I could do this, ANYBODY can!

Marathon Day continued

The end of the “training run”

A few other things that happened before mile 20: the clock at mile 18 showed 3:18-ish, which was great as my fastest 18-miler in training was 3:22:22 (and chip time would be even a little better). Somewhere along the trails there was a particularly enthusiastic spectator, a boy about 12 in a slate-blue sweatshirt who yelled “Here comes Hilary! Go Hilary” or whatever & really made me feel good. Wearing my name on my shirt was the BEST–I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t do that (I’d say no more than 15% of the runners wore their name). It is such a boost to have people call you by name. I smiled every time–in fact, I pretty much had a huge grin on my face for the whole race. When the photos are finally up they will all look identical!

Speaking of crowd support (which was excellent), there are tons of good things to say to a runner. “Looking good,” “You can do it,” “Way to go,” all great. But I did notice a few things NOT to say to a runner….

• Please do not say “You’re almost there” before mile 14! In fact, don’t say that until mile 25. At least.
• Similarly, “It’s all downhill from here” when it’s NOT is less than helpful.
• Finally, please don’t clap your hands and say “Let’s go!” I am going, as you can plainly see, and you are standing still. I’m not going to break into a sprint and wreck my race plan just to satisfy your need for speed.

I planned on taking my first gel at mile 20 or when I hit the wall, whichever came first. But I remembered from the expo talk that the aid station was at mile 19 1/2, so when my Forerunner had beeped for what it thought was 19 1/2 I started looking. An EMT on a bike passed me (Steamtown is GREAT with safety, there were 30+ EMTs patrolling the course & 4 “sag wagons”) and I asked when the next aid station was. He immediately looked concerned & asked me what I needed, then said the water was right around the corner. I pulled out my tangerine PowerGel and started sucking it down–and boy, did it taste good. My body was more than ready to soak up the calories. On to mile 20 and my big change of strategy!

Miles 20-26.2

At the first high curb after the 20-mile sign (the signs were VERY visible and reassuring), I sat down to change my socks and fix my laces. Socks were definitely a production but the laces were even more so. I’d never used the little tab on the tongue which presumably is supposed to have the laces threaded through it to keep it in place, and this wasn’t the greatest time to start. The left shoe was OK but I misthreaded the laces every possible way on the right shoe. Argh! I couldn’t believe how long this was taking. People were streaming past me. Finally finally I was done–it must have taken about 4 minutes–and I got back up, fumbling with the moist towlette to wipe my face. That did feel good and I got underway. At first my feet didn’t feel any better, but quickly I was back in the groove and ready to start turning up the heat just a tiny bit. I felt good! Now to launch the next step of my strategy. I looked at my left wrist and saw G for Grit and imagined a storage tank in my left shoulder, full of stored energy from all of my training. I started thinking about “grit” and visualized little bits of granite. Pressure and friction breaks down what’s soft and the grit is left, impervious. It will not break down, it will not go away. That carried me through mile 20.

The next word was Perseverance and I thought about a stubborn bull, lowering its head and digging in its hooves and not yielding an inch. I saw it pressing its head against the obstacle and gaining just a fraction of an inch at a time, but not letting up. Not giving in. Zoom, mile 21 is gone. I feel great! I don’t even notice the stiffness and aches any more. The killer combination of gel (with double caffeine!), the ibuprofen kicking in, positive thoughts, and the finish line drawing closer is working like a charm. That’s when I started to notice that I was catching up to all the people who had passed me while I was changing my socks, and that no one was passing me. And boy did THAT feel good! Somewhere in here I saw the family with the boy in the blue sweatshirt again (they were driving from point to point to support someone), and he greeted me like a long-lost friend.

Mile 22, Endurance. (I quickly dropped the storage tank idea, just thinking about the noun was enough). Lasting it out, in it for the long haul. Letting ups and downs wash over me, sticking it out. It really helped to focus on the images because the surroundings were dull–we were running through industrial parks and closed-up warehouses.

The next-to-last aid stop was a little after mile 23 and I took my second gel. I offered my spare to the people around me and got a taker, a woman who said she hadn’t had breakfast. She looked pretty exhausted. Lots of people were walking. I got passed by a few people while I ate my gel and drank my water, but once I got going again I’m 99% sure I passed them all again. What was my word? Oh yeah, Determination. That means choosing my own course, controlling my destiny, picking a goal and heading for it no matter what. Keeping my eye on the target. My mind and heart in sync. Here was the first hill, only about a block, not too bad. I’m waiting for the big, awful, 3-block hill around mile 24.

And here it is, Electric St. Yeah, ok, it’s a steep hill, but it’s not really *that* bad. Crowd support is great here, it’s a nice residential neighborhood and everyone is having parties out on the lawn. There are signs and balloons. Very soon I recognize the spot I walked back to from the finish line last year when I was scoping out the race. Is this–this can’t be the top? I asked some guys and they said it was, but there was another hill coming up on Washington Ave. (which I knew). But that was it, that was the big hairy deal hill? Pshaw! And now we’re going down again. “Will” is the word for mile 24, and I visualize a steady flame. But I’m not spending too much time with the mental imagery any more because I’m ALMOST THERE! Once I was past the Electric St hill, I knew I would beat 5 hours, I knew I woudn’t have to walk, I could feel the reality of the finish line drawing me like a magnet. And whenever I thought about it I started to choke up a little bit. I hit the lap button when I passed the Mile 25 marker–10:04! I couldn’t believe it!

Up a gradual hill and around the corner (“This is the last turn” say the traffic volunteers, “straight on from here to the finish”) onto Washington Ave. I can see the crest of the last hill. Here’s the last water stop–I don’t need it, but I figure some Gatorade now might speed my recovery later, so I take one cup. Not too many people ahead of me. At the dip where it starts to slope upwards, there are two big burly guys, one in a kilt, and they simultaneously high-five me as I run between them. Here’s the last hill. I start seeing the beautiful buildings of downtown Scranton–the old high school which is now the junior college, and right across the street is the library. I pass Cooper’s, the goofy seafood restaurant that has a huge wrecked pirate ship and bigger-than-life octopus on the roof, and I know I’m past the steepest part. I cross Mulberry and there’s the finish line, 2 blocks away. I hear the announcer for the prizes (the awards started at 12:30–I thought they’d be long over by the time I got to the finish!) There’s blue-sweatshirt boy again–I dash over to the left and high-five him. Last block. The barricades are packed with people!

My brain knew Jonathan was going to be on the left, but there’s not much conscious thought going on at this point. I see my co-worker Shannon, her husband Charley, and their daughter Lauren on the right, waving and clapping and shouting, and I zoom over there and high-five the 3 of them. Then my legs bypassed my brain entirely and TOOK OFF in the sprint of my life. Part of me scanned the crowd on the left but I was heading towards the chute like a maniac (and why? for 5 seconds off 5 hours? but there is NOTHING like the adrenaline of the finish line. I have only felt it in the 3 previous races of my life, and it’s an amazing experience). My feet barely touched the ground and there I was, over the mat, wrapped in a mylar blanket, and realizing I had to take my hat off for the volunteer to put my medal over my head. Someone handed me a water bottle, I quickly grabbed some food, and headed out of the recovery area to find Jonathan. There he was, he hugged me and I burst into tears, incoherently gabbling “I did it and I feel great!”

Afterwards

I knew I’d cry, but it didn’t last long because I just felt so FANTASTIC! Shannon, Charley and Lauren joined me, I hugged them all and starting babbling about how great I felt and how amazed I was that I hadn’t hit the wall. I saw Geri and Al and hugged them, & then saw blue-sweatshirt-boy and mortified him by hugging him as well. I tried to focus on eating some pizza and drinking my water, and Jonathan reminded me a few times I had to turn in my chip. (“How could you forget to turn in your chip?” I had wondered before the race. Very, very easily!)

Eventually I went to pick up my bag–and ran into Chris the racewalker (he finished under 5 hours!) & had to hug him too (he would have rather shaken my hand but I was already committed to the hug by then!) I decided not to try and shower. Instead I went to the massage room. That was pretty cool–dozens of massage therapists and tables set up in the Federal Building, a lovely art-deco palace. I waited about 10 minutes, gobbling down a yogurt and realizing how amazing those mylar blankets are–they really keep you warm. Kelly was my massage person and she complimented me on how loose my muscles felt–“you must have really trained,” she said. She just lightly worked over my legs, but it felt good. On the way out I put on my T-shirt–yay!–and posed for an after-race photo. Then I walked a few blocks to the mall & met J in the foodcourt, and we headed to the car. On the way out of town we grabbed a bag of ice and I put it on my knees. We also stopped at Krispy Kreme!

It was a long ride home but I was just basking in the good feelings. One of the best things about the marathon, I was thinking, is that it’s DONE–it’s not like most other projects where there are further things to do, loose ends to tidy up, next steps to take, etc. I did it and it’s OVER and no-one can ever take it away from me! I am a marathoner!

OK, enough for today. Celebration, afterthoughts, statistics tomorrow. Thank you all for reading this interminable saga!