Muphys Law was in full effect for this race. Anything that could've gone wrong - did go wrong. And then some.
It began the night before the Toronto Goodlife Marathon, when I spent 3 hours in the emergency department after burning my fingers on the engine of the lawn mower. Don't ask!
I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to race the next day, but when I expressed my concern, the ER Dr. said "are you planning to run the marathon on your fingers?" I of course said "no" and he responded with, "well I'm sure you'll be fine then!"
But I wasn't fine.
From the get go I was having a hard time keeping up with my pace partner Chae. We'd trained together, and if anything, I'm a little faster than she is. But by 21k I was falling behind. I told her to go ahead and she did, reluctantly. I remember seeing the turn off for the half marathoners and wishing I was doing the half too.
At 22k the first signs of fatigue began to set in, so I slowed down a bit.
I don't remember much about the next 10k, except that I was going through a park with very narrow paths. I saw lots of families, strollers, inline skaters, people walking their dogs etc. butI saw no runners or mile markers. I'd taken a wrong turn. I was lost.
Somehow, I eventually got back on the race route and crossed the timing mat at 35k. By now I'd been running for hours and my legs felt like Jell-O. I looked ahead and saw the endless distance I still had to cover and thought to myself, "here it is... the 7km walk of shame!!!"
I started to walk, it was all I could do at this point. I got out my sons iPod and tried listening to music hoping to distract myself. I couldn't keep up with the beat so the music was irritating. Actually it was downright annoying, so I put the iPod away. Only I couldn't fit it back in my pouch, so I shoved it in my bra. It began to chafe against my bra strap so I just threw the iPod to the side of the road. Yes, an almost new Apple product, discarded like a candy wrapper. Oh yes I did. Hmmm...I guess I'd hit the wall that I'd heard so much about. Really? I thought the wall was supposed to be just a fraction of the race. For me the whole race felt like the Great Wall of China!
At 37k I came to a road. The police officer stopped the traffic to let me through, yelling "Stop, marathoner coming through" I yelled back "I am NOT a marathoner!" He approached me, took my hand and said very quietly "young lady, even the last marathoner is still a marathoner..."
Uh oh. Here come the tears. He hugged me while I bawled like a baby, right there in the middle of the street. Then he looked at his watch and said "aren't you on some kind of a clock?" Oh yes, the marathon. I almost forgot.
I struggled on for the next few k's, seeing just a few runners ahead of me, but even fewer behind. Cars passed me and honked. People stood and cheered "go runner!" I saw other finishers wearing their medals who encouraged me to run and get mine. Run? What a joke. I could hardly walk. My legs had turned from Jell-O to cement and my toes were on fire.
At around 40k I saw my husband and son approaching in the distance. When I missed my ETA at the finish line and knowing about my accident the day before, they walked back to find me. I saw my husband Roger and immediately told him to get the car. It's over. I'm done. I just don't care anymore. No medal is worth this amount of suffering.
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| "Please don't quit, mom..." |
"But mom, you're so close..." (Only a non runner can say this, because a runner knows that 2.2k's IS NOT CLOSE!) "Please don't quit mom..." He then offered to finish the race for me and began to cry. Seeing him so upset was all it took for me to finally pull myself together. I told him that there are some things I have to do on my own and this was one of them.
They hurried ahead and of me I began to run. I use the term run very loosely because it was more like a Quasimodo hobbling shuffling move. But it was forward motion and I knew I was going to finish.
At the finish line, I remember hearing my name, receiving a medal, hugging my family, then hearing the loudest applause and cheering you've ever heard. My whole marathon group, some of them having finished over 2 hours ahead of me, we're waiting to see me cross the finish line. They were cheering like I'd just won Olympic gold. I was completely speechless.
Sometimes it takes a village to run a marathon, and this was one of those sometimes. The runners, the volunteers, the medics, the ones who cheered, the people with signs, the police officer, my family and of course my marathon group all played a part in helping me cross the finish line that day.
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| Finisher. |
Three things I learned that day :-
1. I am not a quitter.
2. Toenails, much like iPods, will eventually be replaced.
3. I am a marathoner.
