Yes, I said one and done. Yes, I ran another marathon. I had a good reason, I promise. And to all those who know anything about the 44th running of the Marine Corps Marathon (2019) I say in a most heartfelt way, what in the actual F?
Anyone who has read any of this blog knows I am and have been a runner for years. I’ve run several halfs and shorter and ran the Marine Corps Marathon in 2016, the HOTTEST MCM on record. I was injured in that race and unable to run for nearly a year. That was enough to convince me, never again. Some people are meant to be distance runners and I am not one of them.
I had an excellent support crew in 2016. My kids and The Man were at several stops all along the route to cheer me on. Darling Daughter even ran Hains Point with me, for which I was immensely thankful. They gathered after the finish line to literally support me when I thought I was going to drop. Over 80° is no joke at the end of a marathon. Done in 5:07.
Fast forward to 2018. The Man ran his first 5k after completing a training schedule I created. He caught the bug and announced that he thought he wanted to do Marine Corps. My immediate response was no you don’t. He said, yes, I really think I do. I said, no you really don’t. He persisted so we signed up for a winter half marathon program, and things were set in motion. I knew how awful the experience could be. I firmly believed his race could be better but in case it wasn’t, I wanted to be there to get him to the finish. This all started because I did MCM, so I needed to facilitate a good experience for him. To that I say HAHAHAHAHA!
The Man and I are extremely fortunate and that is not lost on us. For reasons that neither anticipated, we found ourselves alone and miserable. Once we met and became friends, a bond was formed and we are always mindful that we are very lucky to have each other. For years I prayed and prayed – talked to myself, to deceased family, to my version of God – asking to find someone. He literally answered that prayer. Once he decided he wanted this marathon, it no longer mattered about one and done. I wasn’t doing this for me, I was doing this for him. Purely my choice, since he said several times that I didn’t have to do this, I could support him from the sidelines. Except that I couldn’t.
We did a winter half marathon program that’s every bit as cold as it sounds. Getting up in the dark and running in bitter cold, in snow, on ice, through cold misting rain, that all happened. It happened so that we could do the Marine 17.75k in March, ensuring us spots in MCM. It happened so we could do the Marine Historic Half in May, a VERY hilly and hot half marathon. Also in May we began marathon training with our club’s First Time Marathon program. For 6 months we trained through a brutally hot and humid summer. By the end of training our lives revolved around running, whether preparing to run, actively running, or recovering from a run (and all the laundry that entailed). Weekday runs were 7-8 miles, weekends were 18-20 miles. If that sounds crazy you are correct. That IS crazy. Running 40 miles a week when you aren’t meant to be a distance runner does bad things to your body. I’ve been in physical therapy since March, when I first felt twinges of my original injury.
All of that is a prelude to the actual race, on October 27, 2019. That date is important because it’s Darling Daughter’s birthday, and she graciously agreed to spend her day trooping all over DC to take our support team places where they could cheer us on. No one knew about the weather we’d encounter.
THE WEATHER.
First, let me say – are you kidding me????
Weather in the DC area can change in an instant so you can’t put a lot of stock into forecasts. One month before, I checked long term forecasts. 53° at 8am, high of 66. Very good running weather, so I was hopeful. Once a week I checked and every time the temps crept upward. By one week out it was 64° at race time, high of 70. The day before the race, word was everywhere. Rain would begin overnight, continue for hours and the temp would inch into the 70’s. Nothing you can do but run.
We woke up before 5am to rain. Walked to the start line in the rain. Howitzer went off, and we started to run. In the rain. Got a few miles in and felt pretty good. In the rain. Then the skies really opened. At one point in Rock Creek Park (Mile 6.5) a woman running just ahead of us was struck by a branch that fell out of a tree, splitting her head open. We later learned she needed 9 staples. Scary stuff!
Rain was coming down so hard it couldn’t drain. Running past the Kennedy Center (Mile 10), The Man stepped in a pothole filled with water. He couldn’t see it since the road was covered. Once his knee was wrenched, the wheels fell off this marathon bid. By Hains Point (Mile 13) the rain felt like hail and we were wading through several inches. We acknowledged we needed to walk if we were going to finish. A decent start turned into a desperate attempt to finish what became the WETTEST MCM on record (I later learned that they held planes from landing for 45 minutes because the storm was just. too. severe.). As previously described, The Man is a Marine and Marines finish what they start. He didn’t want to go to a medical tent because he was afraid they’d pull him off the course. SO much training went into this, he wanted to finish what he’d started. As the rain let up, it looked like we’d be able to finish walking with the occasional run to keep ahead of the cutoff times, as the Gauntlets in MCM are hard cutoffs. You have to pass the 3 areas before the cutoff times or you get pulled from the course. We’d done so well in the first several miles that we were well ahead of the cutoff times so walking was a good alternative until the sun came out, and come out it did. By Mile 19 we were baking in the sun. Crossing the dreaded bridge was almost unbearable in the heat – something I still remember from 2016. Wandering through Crystal City (Miles 22-24) was particularly awful as the heat was radiating off the buildings. There’s a lot of cement there. Getting up that final hill and crossing the finish line was wonderful, if only because we knew we could stop. Overall, the course took 6 hours, 38 miserable minutes to complete this year due to weather and injury.
Fortunately, a week later his knee is pain-free and his foot, which was very painful (think stress fracture – I did) apparently injured from compensating, is also nearly pain-free. I can confidently say TWO and done. If I attempted a third try I’m pretty sure there’d be locusts, so to all that will continue to run this race, you’re welcome, I’ll spare you the locusts. I’ll gladly cheer and support. The Man has said if he ever says the word marathon to me again, I have every right to a) punch him right in the face and/or b) shoot him. He promised me 100% never again as we were on the way home, and I’m holding him to that.
On the Open Road 