Preface
(9:15pm tonight.-- The diner at the corner of the street. )
I’ll just have coffee for now, thank you. The story I have to tell is meant to just fill in a blank page. What I mean is, I’m not really sure what you’re going to take from it because most of what you are about to read are just thoughts. All of them very true in nature but, still, only what I thought about that day. It could make you laugh at my misfortune or maybe weep for my aching joints. There’s part of me that wants to use it as a tool for inspiration but I’ll leave that up to you. It was only after a personal suggestion from Mandy, a fellow running mate, that I even put this in writing, so, just like life itself, this is meant to be something fun where the ending is already given away in the title.
First and foremost (and not to be too literal), this is a story of steps so I must give some introduction before jumping into it. I signed up for a 10K that is part of the Cleveland Marathon. In layman’s terms, 10 kilometers is 6.2 miles and, to someone with a relatively decent stamina, this should be just another morning run with only 15,000 other running mates.
My day started at 3:30am. I put on some coffee and the DVD of Raging Bull caught my eye so I thought “what better to prepare for a race than watching Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci yell at each other?” By 5:00am on the nose I was backing out of the driveway and making my way into Cleveland.
Oh, wait hold on, I’d be doing you a disservice if I went without mentioning that at this time of the morning it was 35 degrees and beginning to rain. Okay, you’re good, you may proceed.
(7:00am-- Ontario Ave. Cleveland. A couple weeks ago.)
Alright now we’re off and running. I’m on Ontario Ave. staring right at the Lebron poster along with a mass of people in fluorescent running clothes and uncomfortable amounts of spandex. The bell has already gone off and technically the race has started but it actually took me a solid 2 minutes of walking with the crowd to even reach the starting line itself. One cool thing I learned about these organized races is that it doesn’t matter how far back you are in line because these nifty trackers attached to your race number only begin timing you when you’ve physically reached the censor at the start.
Now that I’ve passed that, it’s go time! This is what I’ve been training for! 200 feet later as I took the bend to Euclid Ave, BAM, an icy cross wind just tearing off Lake Erie nails me in the face and chest accompanied with a nice awakening that lets me know this is Cleveland and we don’t mess around. I guess I should’ve expected that given that I went to physics class and the Bernoulli Effect is still alive and well!
“It’s okay, you’re okay, still on your feet!” I tell myself as I never let a wussy breeze slow me down and now I’m staring at the backs of about 50 people running in a clump. Easy fix. All I have to do is make like a needle... and thread! I figured out quickly that a way to make it through a group of people like this without stepping on them or tripping is to locate an Exit Buddy. Now, Finding Nemo fans, do you have your Exit Buddy?! Good! An Exit Buddy is someone who is running your pace or a tiny bit quicker and your mission is to stay behind them as they make their way through the crowd. Hopefully they know what they’re doing because their moves are your moves and will ensure a smooth landing to the open road where you can comfortably run without distractions.
Okay, still with me? Nice, because the running app on my phone just chimed in to let me know we are 3 miles in. It’s starting to lightly snow/hail but that’s just keeping the ground wet. No slippery roads here. By now, I’ve gone through 2 or 3 Exit Buddies and I keep seeing the same few people around me which must mean I’m doing pretty well with staying on pace.
Quick confession: this is actually the longest organized race I’ve signed up for. I’ve been running 10Ks throughout my personal training but never with this many people around or in this setting. Until now I’ve only registered for 5Ks, but, what’s 5 more kilometers between friends, right? Break’s over now, let’s get back at it.
All of the sudden, people are cutting in front of me and flocking near the sidewalk with their arms stretched out. First of all, what is going on? And second, why am I now dodging hundreds of paper cups on the road? Water stations are not things you usually see in a 5K which is why I am not used to having dixie cups lazily thrown over shoulders at me. But that’s cool, more power to them. “I’m fine, thanks, I don’t need water to spill everywhere and then completely miss my mouth so I’ll just keep going.” My body is now used to the cold air and dampness and whenever there was a small spurt of heavier hailfall I can hear people cheering with camaraderie through my headphones and that just adds to the fun so why not let adrenaline take over for the next 3 miles?
I have come to notice the small signs periodically on the side of the road that are color coded and say Marathon (Blue) Half Marathon (Red) and 10K (Green). Next to each color is an arrow to let you know which way you need to be going to stay with whichever race you’re running.
*PING* You have now run 5 miles.
I know when I have a mile left in my run I need to start thinking of the energy I’ve stowed for this moment. When I first started running regularly, my dad told me to think of race horses and how they are conditioned to run on another level during the homestretch. To this day, I cannot go on a run without thinking of that analogy. This time was no different. Right now I only had a half mile to go so no better time than the present, right?! Let’s shift into 5th gear and---
Woah, hold on. What did that sign just say? That one we just passed. Why was there no green 10K marker? What just happened?? Where are we??
Ladies and gents, I need to stop you for a second. Of course, I could not stop because I was in a herd of people and my Exit Buddies were gone. But let’s rewind. Remember back when I was flabbergasted over the cups on the ground and the water being thrown around me by people who just cared about their hydration? Well, not too far after that, at mile 4, was my cut off turn. I still don’t know exactly how I got so distracted that I didn’t notice other runners splitting off but somehow I managed.
With everything on my mind kicking in so fast, there is one clear thing I remember thinking so vividly that I almost said it out loud: “What have I just done? I’m now running a half marathon.”
Here’s my exact horrifying train of thought: “I’m only on mile 5... 5 x 2 = 10... A half marathon is 13.1 miles... But, I’ve never ran more than 9 miles at one time in my whole life... I’m not even half way through a race that I never trained for...”
Let me tell you, that realization was a cross wind that nearly stopped me in my tracks.
An obvious question is if I ever thought about turning around. And the answer is yes, but with a follow up question, “How can I turn around when I don’t even know where I went wrong in the first place?” Okay fine, yes, they did supply a map of the race online. But, how hard is it to just follow the group and look at signs, anyway?... Stop laughing.
All I need now is for Rod Serling to pop up in front of me and say, “You’ve just entered... The Twilight Zone.” That’s really what it felt like. A whole new world I wasn’t prepared for and had no choice but to enter.
Mile 7
Since I am now indisposed for a bit longer than originally planned, better call Mom and let her know I won’t be home for dinner. After telling her I was going to be a little late to the finish line, she misheard me (which is understandable because I can’t imagine what I sounded like talking between strides) and thought I was already there so she began looking. It wasn’t until I told her it would be at least another 30 minutes that she understood. I said 30 minutes and I don’t know why because “30 minutes” doesn’t sound at all like “an hour and a half” which what I meant to say. At this point in time it didn’t really make a difference.
Mile 8
You know what? I bet my brother would get a kick out of hearing this. I’ve started gaining a third wind and, truth be told, I really wanted someone else to
talk with as I ran. After his initial confusion of what I was doing, he started laughing (probably both at me and the situation) and that’s exactly what I needed to hear. He asked if I was going to turn around and after I replied no he said “Well good, now just don’t stop running.” We both laughed and joked for a second and that was boost of energy all on its own. Never underestimate the power of your siblings.
I’m feeling good now. What’s there to be scared of? Take this step by step. So many steps leads to another mile gone and closer to the finish. It’s more of an “already accomplished” feeling than anything. That guy we just passed under the bridge had a makeshift water table. As I got closer I read the sign that actually said “Free Beer”. Honestly, the good vibes and renewed fun that I was having tempted me to take a cup off his table but I resisted. Instead I just involuntarily laughed through my music and kept going.
Mile 10
It feels like 10 miles. If I knew what 10 miles even felt like, this would be it. My running app decided to make this race even more interesting and quit giving me updates so now I’m just guessing how far I’ve gone. Exit Buddies are a thing of the past. I am now the person that other people are pacing to get around. No worries. Don’t worry about it, I’m not worrying about it. Only 3 more miles to go, right? That’s just another 5 kilometers.
Miles 11-12
Thank God! Two familiar faces! The 4 other people running this race with me all split up pretty much at the starting line so I had no idea where anyone else was. Now I do! There’s John running two people in front of me. Did you see him pass me? I didn’t! I took whatever I had left from my third wind and ran his conditioned pace to catch up.
“John! What mile are we on?”
“Hey! I think it’s 11, it’s the homestretch just over that hill!”
Okay, 2 miles. I guess I have 2 miles left in me...
“Andrew!?”
100 feet behind me is John’s sister Margaret with her arms out in confusion from seeing my 10K face. I quickly turned, shrugged my shoulders and said the first thing that came to my mind:
“Missed my turn!”
Wait, am I running backwards now? When did I learn to do that and how have I not tripped in fatigue? For a second I thought I was stuck in reverse but I’m good now and both siblings whizzed past me and my drenched, freezing self.
Mile 12.5
When I run in my own leisure around my development I have one cardinal rule. Do. Not. Stop. Ever. The ONLY exception is if my shoes are untied but other than that: run through the pain! Today I broke my own rule. When the balls of my feet were barely lifting off the ground and nearly tripping myself, I took approximately 100 steps of walking to regain a bit of composure. As I reached the peak of the homestretch bridge I knew it was time to pick up the pace and get going. This was the real deal and I could feel that the end was near. That “end” was either the finish line or death, I was still uncertain.
It wasn’t until I saw him. The man who would win the full marathon and break the previous winner’s record ran right past me, all alone, and the second place finisher was nowhere to be seen. Then I heard the reverb from the announcer’s microphone resonating just up ahead. There are flag lining the streets. I could now see the finish line. Time to get my old pace again. I acted as if the race had just began. If I collapse, then I collapse. I have enough of nothing left in me to make it just another 500 yards. The racehorse effect kicked in and my stride was at full length. Now this dude next to me is trying to pass me... at the finish line?! Sorry man, not today.
That was it. 13.1 miles and 2 hours and 22 minutes later. The first person I see on the sidelines is who else but my Mom. I nearly walked right past the women handing out finisher medals and as I reached out for one, the lady said a hearty congratulations and the words “half marathon” caught my eye as I draped it over my head. No turning back now.
(9:30pm tonight-- The diner at the corner of the street.)
Welcome back. Thanks for staying with me all that time.
One thing I will always believe in is that being able to laugh at yourself is important because it’s very often that mistakes can turn into triumphs. If you laughed along with me then I’m glad. If you’re now hurting as bad as I did, that’s okay. Pain is only temporary. As I crossed the finish line and eventually met up with my fellow running mates, I bent over in exhaustion and realized just how cold and windy it was and that I hadn’t even begun to feel anything yet. I don’t know when the next time is that I’ll run another half marathon but, for now, I’m just going to finish my coffee and think about what turn I’ll miss next and where it’ll take me.
