My First Marathon: Fly, Fight, Win

Or, the 4-hour clash between body and mind


After the marathon, as we made our way through the crowds of people - the limping, the exhausted, the jubilant - I heard someone behind me make an observation.  "You know how people say that if you can run a half, you can run a full marathon?" he said.  "That is a lie.  That is like... a totally different race."

Pre-race:

The walk to the start line of the Air Force Marathon was a chilly mile.  We followed the stream of runners through the dark, stumbling ahead like a horde of the undead.  Eventually, we came up to the starting area, passing by the last bit of the course and finish line.  Planes lined the finish like slumbering giants.  I tried to imagine what it would feel like, hours later, to run through the rows of enormous jets and cargo planes and finally cross the finish.  But I did not let my mind linger on the thought.

We spent the hour or so leading up to the race waiting with a friend and his mother, who were running the marathon together.  It was her first time doing the 26.2 mile race as well.  We kept each other company until it was time to find our respective starting spots.

The sun was just starting to peek over the trees as runners readied their watches and moved towards the start.  The gun went off with a boom, startling many of us, and the first athletes began their journeys.

I crossed the start line and hit the button on my watch to begin the workout, and thought to myself: Here we go.

Part 1: Fly

I started at an easy pace.  It felt funny, walking after only five minutes, but I knew it was part of the plan.  I was going to do a run-five/walk-one pattern from the start.  I knew there was a big hill in the first couple of miles, so I figured that was alright.  My legs were a bit stiff, but overall my body was receptive to the idea of a run.

Miles 1-2

OK.  We're going for a run.  Feeling good.  That's a big hill.  Good thing it's early.  OK, at the top?  Nope.  OK.  Still going up.  That's OK.  Feeling good.

I made it to the top of the hill and picked up the pace a bit.  But at that point I made a conscious decision to ignore my pace the best I could.  I would run at what felt comfortable.  I payed no attention to mile markers.  I kept an eye on the time on my watch to know when to walk and run, but that was it.  I told myself I was just out for a morning run... with a few thousand other people.

Miles 2-11

Alright.  A long run.  Still feeling good.  A little bit of knee pain but nothing too bad.  I'm sure we'll be done soon.  Nothing to worry about.

The first part of the race went by quickly.  I got water at every stop whether I felt like I needed it or not.  There were a lot of spectators as we passed through Fairborn, but otherwise there was not much crowd support.

Part 2: Fight

Miles 11 - 17

Ow. Knee hurts. Are we almost done? Hey!  13.1 miles! We're done! We're done, right? Hey, you saw that sign for 13.1 miles, right? Hi. Hello. Hello? Hello! This is really starting to hurt. Hello?

The middle part of the race is when my knee really started to hurt. Every time I walked it seemed to get worse. And starting to run after walking was painful but the pain subsided after running a few minutes. Then, I would walk and it would start again. I decided to start phasing out the walking and see how that went. The pain during walk breaks got worse. I reasoned that maybe I should cut out the walk breaks altogether. I could just run the last 9 miles, right?  I decided to foolishly give it a try.

Miles 17 - 18

We are running a lot. Hey, does that mean we're almost done? It must! I bet the finish line is right around the corner! All right!

Miles 18 - 21

WE ARE GOING TO DIE. YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?

After four miles of running without breaks, the pain in my knee was almost unbearable. But I was afraid that if I stopped running I would not be able to start again or (worse yet) that I wouldn't even be able to walk to the finish. Around mile 21 I reached a hill that made up my mind for me. I had to walk.

Miles 21 - 21.5

Yay! Walking! We must be done! Why are we going up this hill?

It took 5 minutes to walk up the hill but after the short break and some encouragement from another runner, I was ready(ish) to run again.

Miles 21.5 - 25

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHY ARE YOU STILL RUNNING? THIS IS NOT FUN ANYMORE.

It took varying amounts of running and walking to make it through the next few miles. I would run until I felt like I couldn't possibly run anymore. Then I would walk until I felt like I had any amount of energy to run. And so I would run, despite every part of my body asking me to stop.  I did that for about four miles.  The overall feeling of the race during this section was different than anything else I had experienced in my years of running.  There was a sense of camaraderie among all of us out there.  Like survivors after a global disaster, we were the last ones left.  But we made it this far, and we were not going to give up.  We banded together and lifted each other up.  We were going to make it.

Part 3: Win

Miles 25-26

Adrenaline! Pain! Adrenaline! Woo-hoo! Going to die! Yes! Pain! Adrenaline! Just keep going!

From mile 25 on I was just running on pure adrenaline.  I stopped taking walk breaks again and just pushed harder, knowing it was almost over.  As long as I kept moving, I could do it.  My legs fought me but I just kept on moving.

Miles 26-26.2
ADRENALINE!!!!

As I approached the finish, I barely noticed the planes.  I didn't look at the spectators that lined the fences leading up to that beautiful white banner.  I just stared straight ahead at that banner with those glorious words: FINISH.  But it wasn't glory I felt, it was relief.  I raised my hands over my head as I crossed the final timing mats, and the overwhelming feeling I had was relief that it was over.

It wasn't until a minute or two later, as I received my finisher's medal, that it fully sank in.  I had just run a marathon!  The grand-daddy of foot-races, and I had conquered it.  Not only that, but I finished just under my goal of 4 hours with a time of 3:59:46.  I got my post-race food and collapsed on the grass, amid other worn out runners.

As I sat there, munching on a slice of pizza and a banana, I thought to myself: eh, that wasn't so bad.