26.2
Since I documented my first half-marathon, it only makes sense to write out how I got to finish 26.2! It should be mentioned that I should I have trained a lot more for this race, but I think I say that after every long distance I run.
As usual, I had run the first 8 miles or so of the marathon as a little reminder of what to expect. It wasn’t until two weeks before the race that I bothered checking out the middle 12 miles, and thank god I did. Honestly, not knowing where you are going in any distance over a 5k is just asking for it.
Of course, those last minute runs did a number on my left hip and back, and I spent that last week convinced that I would break my hip during this race. Ask basically anyone who talked to me this week. I was a one-person negativity wagon.
Karen and her mom picked me up at 5:30 a.m. the day of the race. I’d slept fine the night before, but I just felt exhausted and nauseous. We’d have Olive Garden the night before for carbs, and I wasn’t full or anything like that, but I just didn’t feel right. I had some plain naan with honey and peanut butter and could barely choke it down. I ended up trashing most of it and just drinking water.
We parked at Crown Center and stood around the car getting ready: pinning bibs, adding timer chips to our shoes, making last-minute decisions about where and how to store our shot blocks. The entire time, I was stretching my hips. They felt good, but a little tight. I was also a non-stop Negative Nelly. What a grump.
We went inside Crown Center, because it was too cold to just stand around outside, and we wanted to use civilized bathrooms and not the porta potties. We stretched outside Hallmark for a while, and did the whole, “THAT person is running the marathon?” motivational strategy. Thank god for color-coded race bibs.
Then Karen and I lined up for the bathrooms. There was only about 20 minutes left until race time, but we were mere steps away from the start line. The line was longish, but manageable. A girl behind Karen in line was freaking out about it, though, and when we got close enough to see inside the bathroom, we saw one stall wasn’t being used because it was out of order. The girl declared it was better than the porta pottie and used it anyway. I peeked in the stall after she was done and declared that NO, THAT IS NOT TRUE, JESUS WOMAN, WAIT FOR A SANITARY POT. Karen and I used the toilets like rational human beings, saw Bailie on the way out (HI!) and started making our way to the start line.
At the expo, I had picked up the pace band for the 5:00 pace group. As we pushed our way to the front, all I could see was the 5:30 pace group and decided that I would start there. I gave Karen a hug, wished her luck and bam: there I was. Alone. About to run 26.2. Shit.
Almost immediately, another runner with a surprising amount of energy for 7 in the morning introduced herself and asked if I was also running for the first time, I said I was, and agreed to run with her, even though in my head I was still thinking I’d try and keep up with a 5:00 pace. We also talked to a woman running her something like 236th marathon. Needless to say, all this gave me TOO MUCH CONFIDENCE.
So: I went out TOO fast. ROOKIE MISTAKE. My biggest mistake, and the most disappointing, because it was the one thing I had been working on the most in all my 5ks this summer. Start SLOW, pick up the pace later, finish strong. My running partner fell behind when I started keeping the 5:00 pace, and I should have swallowed my pride and fallen back, too.
I will say that I booked it on those first 8 miles. I was hitting pace like a machine. At one point, though, I noticed that there weren’t any other marathoners around me and had a serious freak out. “AM I GOING THE RIGHT WAY,” I screamed at some poor 2:30 half marathon pacer. When she said I was I hugged her and everyone else around me. Hey, Meagan? The reason there weren’t any other marathoners around you? BECAUSE YOU WERE GOING TOO FAST.
We made it to the Plaza, to the 8 mile cut-off where the mass of humanity splits and the lucky half-marathoners get to take off for the home stretch and the poor marathon bastards are basically just about to begin. I ran into the 5:15 pace group and tried to keep up with them, as they were implementing a walk/run strategy that I thought I could keep up with. Unlike other pace group leaders, I was NOT a fan of the 5:15 pacers. Needless to say, they took off and I fell behind. We passed the 20 mile sign, going the opposite direction. I tried to think of what it would feel like to see that sign coming in the right direction.
At about mile 9/10, I bonked. HARD. ”WHAT AM I DOING?” I thought to myself. ”THERE IS NO WAY YOU ARE GONNA FINISH THIS.” Here’s the thing with the Kansas City Marathon. Once you hit the Plaza and start heading south, you are in NO MAN’S LAND. There are some neighbors out, and of course, there are volunteers, but otherwise, it is a lonely time.
Miles 9 to 15 were super hard and lonely. Looking back on this, I’m never running a marathon again without someone with me, whether it’s a pace group or a friend or both. Running a marathon is as much a mental test as a physical one, and when you hit the mental wall, it’s devastating. Plus, my vision was a little blurry and I was still nauseous. I was not in a good place — but I kept going.
As I made my way down Ward Parkway, I had kept checking behind me looking for the triumphant return of the 5:30 pace group. Eventually, I saw a cluster of runners that just had to be them, and slowed my pace a bit. Sure enough, there they were, along with my running friend! I lamented my fast start, but the pacer cheerfully said, “Well you are just gonna have to stick with us then!” That damn group saved my life.
We ran from Waldo to the Plaza together, and I stuck to that pacer like she was my twin. We chatted a bit, and she told me to take the rest areas real easy, get some water, walk a bit, and catch up. I took her advice and felt like I was in a much better place.
When we made it to the Plaza, I saw it: mile 20. Thank god for seeing the mile 20 sign. Once I saw that, I knew I was going to make it.
My running friend had slowed to a walk, so I walked with her. I found out she was from Omaha, too! We chatted about different parts of the race, what hurt, what music we were listening to. We also kept telling ourselves we would start running again, and attempted it a couple times, but it hurt too much. We agreed that once we hit mile 23, we would go for it.
Once we made it to mile 23, we took off. Of course, my tanks were running on empty, so I told her to go ahead and she took off. I kept up my walk/run strategy. There were a lot of other runners around me that I recognized from various other parts of the run, so that helped. We were all in this together, and I passed a couple stubborn runners who had been ahead of me most of the time.
I was less than a mile away from the finish when I turned the corner by the Cashew and saw Laura P. and Karen. Rather, I heard screaming and could barely focus. The first thing I noticed was Karen’s half-marathon medal. She finished! I do remember them screaming things like, “YOU ARE A MARATHONER! OMG YOU ARE DOING THIS!” I also remember screaming back, “LET THIS END ALREADY.”
And then, what the hell. Uphill finish in the wind, KC Marathon? Bogus. Even the 26 mile marker fell down in the wind, which if I hadn’t been mentally drained, would have made me laugh. Instead, I just noted it an moved on.
I barely remember finishing, but I do remember getting all tingly and goose-bumpy and “running” that last bit to cross the finish line. I did manage to pass one more runner, an older guy who asked if it was my first marathon. It was his as well, and we congratulated each other after the race.
Other than seeing Karen and Laura, the best thing I saw when I finished was the 5:30 pace group leader. ”You did it!” she yelled and gave me a hug. That was incredibly nice, and I was so glad to see her. I hobbled over to get my timing chip snipped off, grabbed my medal and my finisher’s shirt and waited for Laura, Karen and her mom to locate me.
I WAS DONE. 5:43:48. Was it my goal time? No. But I finished in under 6 hours, which was my “last resort” goal. And now I have a time to beat, which I think with some honest to god training, I can hit. Plus, running those 5ks and half marathons now are going to seem a hell of a lot shorter.
And allow me to share this humblebrag I’ve shared before: I need a better medal display solution. I’ve seen the medal display racks before and I think they are eh. There are some nice shadowbox ideas out there that might work. Runner problems.
