I am a marathoner!

I never thought I'd say this: I finished a marathon!

I really don't know what to say in this email. People keeping asking me "how does it feel?" My only reply is, "great, though painful." I started yesterday's marathon really strong, keeping the exact 10 min/mile pace I expected. I successfully fought the urge to start out too fast--apparently a common rookie mistake. After all of the big hills, thankfully placed at the start of the race, the miles steadily ticked by. Before I knew it, I was at mile 10 and fast approaching the half-way mark. As I hit the half-way mark at mile 13.1, my watch read 2:17.12, perfectly on par for my expected finishing time. Things were looking good! I received quite a bit of cheers, from both familiar faces (Thanks Amanda, Julia, Jessah, Wendy, Lauren) and strangers--thanks to my name written on my jersey. This turned out to help immensely and was an integral part later in the race.

Somewhere around mile 16, I felt burning in my lower inner quads, right above the knees. After about a half mile, the pain became much more familiar; I was starting to cramp. It started in my left quad, then dissipated as it flared up in my right quad. After a quick stretch it felt better, but I knew the stretch bought me little time. Now my mind began to race. I was only at mile 16, why were my legs beginning to rebel? I had hydrated and carbo-loaded plenty the days leading up to the race, I kept my pace and didn't start too fast. I had an appropriate breakfast and even ate energy packs throughout the race. My lungs and heart had plenty of gas, why didn't my legs? I didn't run (pun intended) into this problem in my 20-mile training run, so why today? Why this early in the race? Perhaps I didn't have enough salt, but I had just taken a salt packet the mile previous. I ran the next 3 miles wondering what lay ahead.

At mile 19 my legs were cramping so severely that I had to employ a jog/walk strategy. I jogged until my legs were just about to cramp, then walked it out, rinse, repeat. To make it across the 14th St Bridge, I developed a game: jog the distance of two light poles, then walk one. After the bridge, the next few miles were the worst. There were tons of people there cheering, many of them yelling "C'mon Daniel," but there just wasn't anymore power in my legs. I created a new game: if anytime during the "walk phase" of my walk/jog tactic I receive a personal cheer, I had to jog again, even if I were grimacing in pain. After mustering those few miles through Crystal City, it was on to the Pentagon.

Near the Pentagon, I encountered a unique moment in the race. The entire race course was marshaled by US Marines, a few stationed every fifth mile or so. One of them, an older guy, perhaps even an officer, yelled "Lets go Daniel." As per the rules of my game, I trotted up to a jog upon hearing his cheer. Seeing he was the fuel behind my step, he continued cheering me until I could no longer hear him. His dedication to a total stranger's success was overwhelmingly motivating.

I have a comment on spectators and participants that like to dress up. Your effort is awesome and really adds some flare to the race. Thank you for dressing up, thank you for ringing cow-bells, thank you for the noise makers. That said, if you're going to dress up, you really should act the part, like the guy in the Miami Dolphins jersey, #5 Ray Finkle. When I said to him, "Laces out!" He caught the reference to Ace Ventura and acknowledged me. However, I saw a guy ringing a cowbell dressed like Will Ferrell. When I said to him, "I have a fever..." he did NOT reply "and the only prescription for it, is MORE COWBELL." Instead, he said "hang in there buddy!" Clearly he missed the reference to his own outfit. Play your part, people!

After the pentagon, I was back near the starting corrals, just 1.2 miles from the finish! As I glanced at the timing display at mile marker 25, I realized I was well past my expected finishing time, and just 14-16 minutes away from the end of the 4th hour. Since onset of the leg cramps over 6 miles previous, I set forth dividing and conquering mini-goals--run to the next light pole, run for people that cheered me. At this point, however, there was one simple goal--finish strong. If I managed a 12-13 minute minute/mile for the last 1.2 miles, I would finish with a sub-5 hour time. I picked up the pace. I saw a Marine running in full gear with a pack weighing at least 60 lbs. I could tell he was enduring similar pains. In fact, as I looked around I saw folks that stopped to stretch out cramps and others that were walk/jogging alongside of me. I realized I was in good company; we were all fighting our guts and bodies to run 26.2 miles. Before I knew it, I was making the uphill turn to the finish. The previous night at the TNT Inspiration Dinner, I learned that there will be a point in the race where I realize I WILL finish. For me, it occurred 0.2 miles from the finish as I trekked up that hill to the finishing area. I even felt confident that I was going to succeed in my final, single goal of finishing strong. I did it! I finished in 4:58.43.

While I was originally disappointed that I didn't finish in my expected time, I'm happy to have finished at all. And I raised over $2200 to fight cancer to boot! In the end, I'm glad to have fought through such pain and agony. I didn't recount the difficulties of the race as a demonstration of my failure, but rather as how difficult it was to succeed. I somehow feel even more accomplished because of the pain. While my 4:58 finishing time wasn't exactly my expected finishing time, it was still a personal record (it was my first marathon, after all). Besides, it'll be that much easier to beat next time, and there WILL be a next time. And I hope to do a half-ironman by 2011.

Check out the data of my run: Marathon GPS mapping, tracking

Thanks for all of your support! Thanks to those who made donations to my 10K and/or marathon, trained with me, asked about my training, endured my constant jabber about running, and especially those that supported me "off the field".