For the Record

My first marathon

Training:

70 scheduled runs of which I finished 63

466 scheduled miles of which I completed 380.

My first marathon ran on 12/14/14. Training began on 8/12/14.

More effort could have been given to the training. Lots of missed runs. Original goal to finish was 4 hours. At the end of training, 4 hours 15 mins. seemed more realistic. Actual time was 4 hours 52 minutes. It’s hard for me to be happy with this result, even though I should be.

Race day conditions:

63 degrees, 10mph wind, 85% humidity. Rain expected by noon. 20,000 runners expected

The Race:

Miles 1–9 were through the streets of Dallas with the half marathoners. Crowds were heavy and strangers held up motivating and at times funny signs to the amusement of the runners. There must have been a dozen different bands playing music throughout the whole course.

On mile three or four, I saw a girl stop near highway 75 and disappear behind a building holding her stomach and about to throw up. I felt really bad for her. I hope she finished.

We marched all the way down Lower Greenville to Swiss Avenue which had tons of spectators cheering us on. I only recognized one spectator in the race: injured Cowboys linebacker, Sean Lee. I told the next spectator I saw with a Cowboys shirt on that he was there. I think he appreciated it.

I’ve heard a lot about the “spirit of the marathon.” I can’t define what that is well enough to a person that hasn’t experienced it. But it’s there. And it’s real. When the half marathoners branched off from the full marathoners around mile 9, I started thinking about the spirit of the marathon. The half marathoners brought so much energy (mostly in numbers) as well as the crowds with them. I actually missed them after they departed.

The human spirit was alive and well. From the race volunteers, to the runners, and the crowd, there was full support everywhere. Our first names were printed on our bibs and strangers in the crowd would shout my name, spurring me on. It sounds small, but it makes a difference. Hundreds of kids and some adults lined up along the course and stuck their hand out to be touched. I never turned down a request. It was powerful and a connection was made for a split second. A human connection.

I felt good all the way up to mile 15, averaging my goal of 9:30 per mile. Then we hit White Rock Lake, a frequent course for my training. Crowds thinned considerably and for the first time on the course, I felt alone. The proverbial wall was now upon me. Cold, gusty winds from the lake chilled my drenched body and slowed me down. I took advantage of every water stop, drinking two and three cups of water. I even stopped at a porta-potty to go #1 just to get a break.

Having made it through the lake, at mile 18, the rains came. A heavy shower drenched us and the war was on. Drizzle from 19–22 and mile 23, the heavens opened. This wasn’t going to be easy.

By mile 24, it was getting serious. And I was getting delirious. Weaving around, like a drunkard in a figure eight pattern. I was getting dizzy and felt faint. Even closed my eyes a few times in exhaustion. But you don’t run 24 miles and stop two miles before the end.

With my goals in regards to time now unattainable, the mission now is to finish. In an effort to take my mind off of the pain and suffering, I run through the memorized scripture lingering in my head: John 5:24, John 16:24, 1 Corin. 10:13, 1 John 1:9, Proverbs 3:5–6 for the fourth or fifth time of the race. Still word perfect. Then more prayers.

As we reach the end near Deep Ellum, we pass by Pecan Lodge BBQ and the all-familiar smell of meat smoking is in the air. Another distraction. All I can think about is the meal I’ll be having post-race and the upcoming Cowboys game on Sunday Night Football.

On the last mile, I passed a small man that may or may not have been disabled. He had a crowd of five supporters that pushed him on to the finish. One of his friends even ran the last mile with him and seemed to struggle to keep pace with the little guy. The last mile was excellent and a surge of strength filled my muscles and my chest even came out for the first time in 10 miles. The end was near. As I crossed the finish line, I threw up my arms in victory and hoped the photographer captured the moment.

Just like in life, we endure wind, rain, and sometimes dizziness, but we go on.