My First Marathon

I ran my first half marathon in July 1999 at the age of 19. Although my finishing time wasn't terrible at 2 hours and 3 minutes, I hadn't trained properly so the race really went badly from start to finish. When I crossed the finish line I said "well I won't be doing that ever again!" and I even went as far as to say that anyone who would run a full marathon must be completely out of their mind (now that I have completed 5 marathons, it is a statement that I probably still agree with). But as I got closer and closer to my 30th birthday something changed. I decided I didn't want to live a boring, shallow life consisting of shopping,  sipping lattes, being a 'gym rat' (a label reserved especially for people who exercise almost entirely indoors at the gym), watching TV and generally taking the easy road. Yes it's true that Scott and I did hike and climb quite a bit, but never felt like I had gone out on my own to see what I was capable of. I hadn't gone out of my comfort zone and pushed my limits. I wanted to have goals. Real, significant, life changing goals. In 2007 we had travelled to Peru and Ecuador and climbed our first high altitude peak. That experience had given me the sense that I really wasn't living up to my potential and I wondered how much more could I accomplish if I tried. I'm not sure how running a marathon managed to make it's way on my bucket list, but it did, and I can honestly say that I started the whole endeavour without really being sure it was something I wanted to do.

It was in January 2008 that I decided to join the Runners' Soul Marathon Club. Since that half marathon in 1999 I had only rarely ran more than 5 or 6 kilometres and I hadn't applied myself to a consistent training program. I began the Marathon Club training schedule with caution. Once we reached 14 miles on the weekend long runs each following long run would be the longest distance I had ever completed. I would say looking back on the experience it went pretty well until around the 16 mile point. I would run slowly taking occasional walk breaks and had generally managed to finish each long run with a sense that I could probably go longer 2 weeks later.

Of course, that all changed the week I tried to run 18 miles. For people reading this post who have never run that far, the 18 mile point is generally the point at which people will deplete all of their available glycogen stores. Glycogen, which is stored in your skeletal muscle and liver, is a major source of energy. When it's gone, you are almost entirely relying on your body's ability to convert fat into energy, a process which takes a lot longer. People call it "hitting the wall" because you literally feel fine one minute and then the next minute it takes all the effort you can muster to just put one foot in front of the other. Well, needless to say, my 18 mile run was a disaster. In fact I didn't even finish the full distance and not because I hit the wall either. I had to stop at around 11 miles because my IT band had flared up so badly that I could barely walk. Luckily a friend was driving by as I was trying to limp home and gave me a ride.

I was devastated. Until that day I hadn't realized how much the whole experience meant to me. I had a revelation - I actually wanted to run a marathon. On the advice of some more experienced friends, I took it easy, had a couple of massages and then tried the next long run, 20 miles, two weeks later. I decided to change my strategy to running 10 and 1's (10 and 1's are when you alternate between running 10 minutes and walking 1 minute) and it worked. I made it to the starting line of my first marathon on June 1, 2008 in Lethbridge, Alberta.

Race morning I was very nervous! I followed my regular pre-run routine of getting up 2 hours early, eating a good breakfast, getting my running gear ready, doing a bit of mental preparation and most importantly (everyone who has ever run knows how important this really is) I made my morning trip to the washroom. We arrived at the starting line at least 30 minutes early. But my nerves got the best of me and I had to make an emergency trip to the porta-potty. I don't know why this happens but I've seen this a lot at races - people who are not even running the race line up at the porta-potties, creating very long lines and do not even let the racers go first. As a result I was actually in the porta-potty when the gun went off! Yes I started my first marathon sitting on the toilet. I ran out of there pulling up my shorts, Scott handed me my race belt and off I went to the starting line. Good thing for timing chips or it would have added about 2 minutes to my official time.

starting the race basically alone because I was in the porta-potty when the gun went off so everyone  else had already gone

Mile 15 - still smiling

walking up the hill at mile 18 - part of my race strategy

If I could summarize what it's like to run a marathon it would go something like this: "I feel amazing this is awesome!", followed by "OK I don't feel awesome but it's still fine", then a feeling of doubt "Why am I doing this? Isn't half a marathon good enough?", then total despair when you reach the 18 mile point and realize you still have 8.2 miles left to run (for an average person this will take at least an hour), by the time you near the finish line the last few hundred yards feel like an eternity. But I was so thrilled to be running that marathon, it was my BIG DAY, and I found myself smiling so much that my face and cheeks started to hurt.

I crossed the finish line with an official time of 4:35:49 (when you adjust for the time I spent in the porta-potty that is). Looking back if I had to judge this race against the others it was by far my worst result. The first half was not too bad in a time of 2 hours and 3 minutes, but limped through the second half of the race in 2 hours and 32 minutes. I hadn't even beaten the Oprah line (which is to finish your first marathon faster than Oprah's marathon time of 4:29:15) but that didn't diminish my happiness. I had completed my first marathon and I knew that day it wouldn't be my last. I limped back to the car, had a big lunch, a long nap and about a week later when I was finally able to walk normally again, I started planning the next one.

at the finish line - 26.2 miles!

all smiles after the race