I Am a Marathoner

Really. Me. I did it.

{stop. gasp. smile to myself.}



I ran the Portland Marathon on Sunday. The whole Portland Marathon. My feet (and legs, and butt, and knees...) covered 26.2 miles. Without any carnivors chasing me. I seriously couldn't be prouder.

See, I'm not a marathoner. I mean, well I am in that I did actually just run one. But I don't run, I'm not an overachiever, this hasn't been an aching desire for me, I consider myself a reasonable person. And marathons just aren't reasonable. And yet here I am, a marathoner.

Life is so amazing, isn't it?

First, the background. I exercise regularly. Aerobics and lifting weights mostly, but I do mix it up and try other things occasionally. But I never run. Peter ran the Portland marathon a few years ago and the whole process totally proved to me that marathons were crazy. He suffered through the training. He suffered through the whole marathon. He did it, but I don't think he's gone running since he did it. That experience sort of proved my point: marathons were for crazy people.

It seems that I know a lot of crazy people. My friends Amy Jo and Natalie ran the Newport marathon in May. It sounded excrutiating. Not even remotely tempting. And then the very next week my friend Heidi asked me if I wanted to run Portland. My answer wasn't ambiguous: "NO WAY!!" And then she said the four words that changed my life: "You could walk it."

Those little words were just enough to put a small crack in my reasonable thinking. I have done 20 mile day hikes (um, hard.) And maybe if I trained... I did a bit of research and was seriously considering it. Then I told Peter. My dear, sweet, supportive, beloved husband.

Me: "I am seriously considering walking the Portland marathon."
Peter: "Your friends all run them. Why can't you?"

Gulp. Um, because I'm sane? But he was right of course, if I was going to consider this I may as well really consider this. So, I strapped on my gym shoes and ran around the neighborhood to see if I could run. Two-and-a-half miles. No problem. Hm, interesting. I went out the next night to try 4 and ended up feeling so good that I went 6. Hm, ok, I guess I can run.

It is kind of amazing how it all fell into place after that. That weekend we visited my sister-in-law, Phaedra, who mentioned that she'd try the Jeff Galloway method in training for a 5K. His method is all about alternating running and walking in measured doses. She recommended his marathon book, I bought it, and it all made sense. I committed to training for the month of June as if I was going to do the marathon. At the end of the month I'd commit either way.

Obviously, you know what I decided at the end of June.

One of the amazing things about this whole marathon thing is that I actually enjoyed the training. Really enjoyed it. I will admit that after 18 miles, the enjoyment does go down a wee bit (read: a lot!) but for the most part, the training was awesome. And it was so great to break through these barriers of how I perceived myself. I still couldn't fit "runner" into my perceived self definition, but still I just ran.

The marathon itself was likely one of the best days of my life. The morning high was overwhelming. The 9700 runners all gathered in the streets of Portland. The cheering crowds. The marching bands! And cheerleaders! All coming out to cheer us on.

The run itself was fascinating. From that tremendous high to a few miles in remembering "oh, yeah, there is that whole 26.2 mile distance that I need to cover." Twenty six miles is a very, very long way. My friend Natalie summarized her marathon run mile by mile and I think it was pretty interesting. Here is my experience.

Pre-race: This is incredible! Without a doubt one of the best experiences of my life. It was so great to be at the starting line with Heidi (she left me in the dust seconds later...she's a real runner.)

Mile 1: Wow, there sure are a lot of runners here. Awesome! We're all doing this together. I love marching bands! And then my timer went off. The timer that regulated the run/walk breakdown that I'd trained for. Let me tell you I felt like a complete and total dork to start walking three minutes into a marathon. But I sucked up my pride and stuck with my training routine. And I walked for my scheduled minute. Then off again.

Mile 2-5: It was fun to watch people settle in to their pace. At about mile 2 the course met up with the elite runners - the people that were winning the marathon - and watched them fly past at what looked to me like a full sprint. Wow. At mile 5 I realized that I was exactly on the pace that I trained for and was pleased about that since I worried that I'd run too fast at the beginning.

Mile 5-10: Kind of boring. You just need to keep going. It didn't help that this strech was down a fairly industrial road. The one plus was that it was a down and back section and so we could see the people ahead of us as they came down the road, and then the people who were behind us as we turned back down that route.

Mile 11: My sister was there snapping pictures of me and she even ran a bit with me - while carrying her tiny little dog!

Mile 12-16: Again, kind of boring. Fewer bands and musicians. There was a jaunt through a residential neighborhood that was nice. Lots of people cheering. My bib had my name on it and it made me smile to hear strangers yell "Go, Amy!" Also, I passed a business that had pulled huge speakers out onto the sidewalk and was cranking techno music into the street. Techno is the best running music ever.

Mile 16-17: The enormous hill onto the St. John's bridge. Actually, this wasn't as hard for me as it was for many people. All my training runs ended back at our house, on top of our huge hill. I walked much of it (as I did on my training runs too.) But at the top I didn't feel like it had done me in. The view from the St. John's bridge was incredible! I talked to Peter on my cell phone about where they were standing. After I hung up I couldn't really remember what he'd said. My mental processes clearly weren't working right.



Mile 18-20: Residential neighborhood with lots of cheering crowds, music and even belly dancers! My sister was there again too! Peter, Soren and Phaedra were there too. Soren even ran with me for a short distance. Makes me smile to even think about it.



Miles 20-23: These were hard. Really hard. I didn't want to run any more. It was also obvious that many people around me were really struggling too. I had watched some videos of marathoners collapsing late in the marathon and I wondered how they were feeling just before they collapsed. I felt fine (well, certainly not fine, but I didn't think I was going to fall over), but would I know it if I were about to collapse? People hold marathons in high esteem, after mile 20 that is where that esteem is earned.



Miles 23-26.2: There was a bit of a conflict here. On one hand, I only had three miles to go - that is a short, do-able distance. On the other had, I was BEAT, dog tired, sick of running, slightly delirious, and just ready to be done immediately. Three miles seemed so short, and oh, so very long.

Crossing the finish line was great. But mostly just because it meant that I could stop running. They had people to wrap the runners in space blankets. Very helpful. And then there was just all sorts of stuff - fresh fruit, OJ, water, Nesquick, cookies, pretzels, licorice. All sorts of stuff to get you something to start replenishing. Only runners were allowed in this area and I sort of walked around in a daze. A very kind volunteer came up and offered to tie my space blanket so that I didn't have to hold it. Much appreciated as I just didn't have any real ability to take care of myself at that point.

I really just wasn't normal for a long time, I felt like I was just walking around in a stupor. My sister met me and took me to Peter waiting for me in the car (with Soren fast asleep.) I was so grateful to just sit down!

So, I did it. And, yes, would you believe that I'd love to do another.