As you all know, yesterday I ran my first marathon.  I actually finished and for that I am grateful!  My time is the title of this blog post.  I won’t pretend there isn’t a little part of me that isn’t disappointed that I didn’t have a 4-something time, but at least it gives me something to work toward in the future.  It’s sort of like when I was 16 and I passed my driving test but was mad because I did two things wrong and had points deducted.  I also didn’t beat Oprah’s time.  That wasn’t something I’d thought about at all before the race, but it would have been a cool factoid.  Apparently there is a web site called www.beatoprahsmarathontime.com.

The night before I only slept 3.5 hours (Midnight to 3:30).  I was a little worried about that, but I woke up ready to head to the site and get started.  We arrived just after 5 (yes, it was still dark) and had to wait until we were released around 6:22 a.m.  Next time I will definitely arrive closer to my release time because standing around waiting in the cold is not my thing.  I did have the pleasure of randomly bumping into Teal before her half marathon, which was really fun.

I made an effort to take it all in as the race started and enjoy the experience – the pomp and circumstance, all of the other unfamiliar people, the camraderie – even though I was a little nervous.  We ran at 5:1, which is much higher than we had done any other long runs.  It was fine along the Embarcadero, and we walked the hill up to the bridge, which was also fine.  I didn’t love running on the bridge.  It was cool at first because I had never walked or run on it in the 10 years I’ve lived here, but I made the mistake of looking down and to my side (where there is a gap between the bottom of th wall and edge of the road).  I will not do that again.  Looking up at how high the cables go was also interesting, but dizzying.  On the bridge I ran opposite a colleague doing the half marathon, which was fun.  It was also running opposite other runners on the bridge that I really started to realize how many hot guys were running the race.  I liked that part of running on the bridge.

After the bridge we ran down into the park.  On the way there I was totally turned around as to what direction we were going, and sort of running on autopilot (but not in a bad way).  A law school classmate had stopped to watch runners (he was biking) and at first I thought he was just calling my name because it was on my shirt, but it was fun to realize I knew a spectator.  It was nice to run in the park because I was familiar with the route.  Around this time I started to feel my right groin muscle.  It didn’t hurt as much as it did during those long runs several weeks ago, but I definitely felt it in a way I didn’t during our final few training runs.  This made me a little nervous.

In the park around mile 15 or 16 Garrett’t knee started hurting and he required more walking than we were doing in the group.  He caught up to us once, but eventually I was far enough ahead of him that we weren’t going to run together anymore.  He told me to leave him, and I would have told him to do the same if the situation were reversed, but of course I still felt really bad that we probably we were neither going to see our spectators together (who were waiting as one large group at 14th and Guerrero, mile 21) nor cross the finish line together.

As we came down the hill from the edge of the park and the very upper Haight, passing Buena Vista Park, by Miguel’s house and across Market, I started to hit a bit of a wall.  This was probably miles 19 and 20, and I was playing a memory game with two people in Garrett’t pace group.  By the time were were on Haight I had to add 30 seconds to a minute to each walk break, and I was starting to have doubts about the race.  I didn’t think that I couldn’t finish, but my feeling was that it was going to be really, terribly hard to do so.

The best motivation – aside from a downhill drop into the Mission – came as I approached mile 21.  Spectators!  I was so excited running down that hill.  Meghan and Mike were the first ones I saw, on Guerrero before 14th Street, on a median to my right.  They looked so cute and color coordinated and told me I looked great (we all know I always love hearing that), and I was able to give them each a hug.  After I crossed 14th I saw the rest of the group:  Caitlin, Miguel, Anthony, Garrett’s mom, dad, and aunt, and their two dogs.  I managed to hug everyone and pet each of the two dogs.  Apparently Garrett just ran by when he came later, and Mike D. said that it was an interesting manifestation of our personality differences.  Also, post-race, I told Meghan that she really got it right by telling me I looked good (most other people on the course obviously say something such as “you’re doing great” or “good job”).  This cracked everyone up.

One thing you might find amusing:  during the run I found time to send multiple text messages (including one picture one), reply to text messages received, call my mom once, and call two different spectators to give them progress updates.  This included a post-spectator thank you text message to the six people there, a message that no one believed wasn’t pre-drafted (it wasn’t).

We ran east on 14th and 16th Streets, up a big hill by Potrero Center and near Sports Basement.  That wasn’t as hard as the Haight because I was feeling motivated by seeing so many familiar faces, but I definitely had to take it slow.  Before I knew it we were on the state streets (we turned south on Wisconsin) and I knew I was getting close, making my way east to the water before heading north to the finish line.

I saw the big sign for 23 miles, looked at my watch and realized that maybe, just maybe, I could finish in under 5 hours (of course that ended up being wrong).  It was then I decided to try to push it all the way to the finish line.  I figured the worst that could happen was that I would improve my time even if I was over 5 hours.  I was surprised that I decided to do this, and I felt bad leaving the one girl I was still with (one guy had dropped off earlier), but I wanted to do it.  It was so awesome to pass people.  I must have passed like to 50 to 100 people between miles 23 and the finish line.  I loved finding a small competitive streak in me that late in the race.  During those three miles, I walked for one minute, and about another fifth to quarter mile, and that’s it. After the one-minute walk break I had this moment where I [silently] asked myself if I had it in me to keep going and to just push as hard as possible to get to my goal.  I visualized the finish line and tried to ignore everything else.  One thing I had to ignore was the feeling right after I started walking at mile 25 was the weak feeling in my legs, the dizzy feeling in my head, and the nagging question of whether I was going to pass out.  It seemed possible but I tried to mind-over-matter it.  The second walk break, just after (or was it before?) mile 26, did not have a definite end that I set (i.e., I wanted to walk for longer than one minute).  I ran past a car that my Dad used to have that remains unusual and distinctive looking, and I took that as a sign to start again.  I continued from that car to the finish line.

I employed many methods to keep going, including Monica Seles-style grunting (I never thought that would happen while running in public) alternated with sighing/woo-type noises.  I also squirted water on my face (and you know how I hate to get wet outside of a shower) because it was so hot.  I would look ahead and find someone to pass and make that my goal (it was amazing how my grannies and grandpas I was passing.  If they could do it, I could do it).  I kept setting my sights on a small goal such as that, achieving it, and then setting a new one.  It was hard to drink too much water as my stomach was a little topsy-turvy, but when I took out the bottle to drink or squirt myself, I also sort of pulled on the belt it was in (around my waist) to straighten my posture and propell me forward.  I was using my watch this point at 5:1, but I knew I would have a hard time avoiding walking – when I wanted to so desperately – if I heard that interval beep.  Thus, I tried to psych myself out by re-setting it to countdown from 5 minutes when it was about to cycle over to a 1-minute walk break.  I could have just turned off the timer, but this way I could see the clock and think “two more minutes” and half think I could walk.

One thing the coach suggested was having a mantra or catch phrase that we could repeat to ourselves to keep going when things got tough.  The coach also suggested planning it out before the run to have it handy.  Strangely (considering what a planner I am) I intuited that it was best for me to wait to think of my phrase when I needed it.  Also, ordinarily I’m neither alone nor running hard enough to warrant such a phrase.  At any rate, I really needed one when I was passing people, and it ended being “pull it out.”  This seemed like a totally innocuous turn of phrase to me.  It wasn’t until I told Meghan and Caitlin and they made a few jokes that I realized there is a fairly obvious psychological/adult interpretation to that catch phrase.  Everyone had several good laughs over that one, including me.

One of the longest distances was from mile 26 to mile 26.2, the finish line.  At that point it was very encouraging to hear random people shouting my name and saying good job (earlier it was just sort of embarrassing).  I had the pleasure of seeing Joy’s mom and Garrett’s dad cheering me on (for some reason I missed Garrett’s mom and aunt though they were right there) right before I crossed the finish line.  Stacey asked me if they annouced my first and last name at the finish line, and I can honestly say I have no idea.  It was a blur by that point.  I saw the coach and an AIDS Marathon Training Program employee, so that was nice.  I received a medal, became a little emotional (I was too tired to become too emotional, I think), tried to push past all of the other dumbass runners creating a traffic jam while getting free sports beverages and nutrition bars.

Then I called Miguel to see where they were.  They were at the designated meeting place near the AIDS marathon tent, and by the fountain in front of which Meghan and I took pictures during one of our first trips into the City ten years ago this year, just after we arrived at Berkeley.  It was strange to me that I had that thought and it was how I verified which fountain they were in front of.  It took quite a bit to walk to where they were, and I was very out of it (good think the area was closed to traffic), but I will never forget walking up and seeing the smiling faces of Caitlin, Meghan, and Miguel (Mike and Anthony went to buy water or something).  It’s one of those moments I’ll always remember, just like seeing my parents and friends while walking out of the chuch after my law school graduation.  I got to hug them all, and they were all so nice as to say that my hair looked good (I didn’t touch it during the race so as to maximize the odds it would look good), and I looked buff, etc.  It took some convincing for Meghan to believe that I didn’t stop for a touch-up before seeing them (I didn’t).  It seriously meant SO MUCH to me to have them there.  We took some great pictures thanks to Miguel’s awesome camera.

We walked over to the finish line to see Garrett cross.  He grabbed his mom’s Yorkie and ran across with her, which was too cute.  We took lots of group photos together.  Then he and Anthony headed home, and Caitlin, Meghan, Mike D. and I headed to Jamba Juice and Miguel’s apartment.  We played video games and talked until Caitlin hd to leave.  Then I took a cab with Meghan and Mike so we could hang out with our friend Mariska (visiting from Colorado) at their house.  By the time I hobbled home around 8 to take an ice bath, eat a pizza, and watch a Sex and the City episode (season 1, yuck), I was very, very sore.  Luckily I didn’t have any pain or even acute soreness, but I was very, very, very stiff.  The stairs down from Meghan’s apartment and up to mine with 20 pounds of ice were murder (definitely both feet on each stair, which I NEVER do).

I also felt like a tool wearing my race singlet, bib number and medal after the race while on MUNI and walking around the Castro.  People were definitely looking, which was embarrassing.  Luckily Mike D. let me borrow a fleece for the walk home from his house (which honestly took two or three times longer than usual).

Yesterday was a day that I’m confident will be one of the top five or ten days of my life, and I couldn’t have done it without each of you.