More on the marathon

DAY OFF. Would you believe I actually thought about swimming today? For peanut butter? If you know me, then you have no trouble believing it.

The race report for the marathon was getting long and more keeps coming to mind about it. Little things that happened along the way that either kept me going or kept me from going, I'll just dump them here. No particular order.

In Clayton around mile 16, some one's phone was ringing. At first I thought it was a spectator, but no, it was a runner!! They answered it!

At the 19 or 20 mile mark, the water station was manned by 20-some high school age kids who screamed and yelled and cheered each of us on by name (it was on our bibs). There is nothing like having your own personal cheering section of people really getting into it. Hearing your name is a unique motivation.

I saw JB around mile 10 and wanted to run with her. But I was moving too fast and passed her. I should have run with her a bit.

The sickening feeling of having to walk, then finding walking to be just as hard as running. The frustrating feeling about 3-4 hrs later when I had energy and felt better, when you begin to wonder why the energy failed. Followed by the satisfying feeling 6-8 hrs later that I really ran myself into the ground and couldn't have done any better at that point.

The runner on her phone saying "I'm at mile 25, where are you? OK, I'll meet you there". Couldn't wait 1.2 miles to make or take that call?

In 2008 I talked to other runners more, like the woman from Ohio between miles 13 and 17. This year I talked to a guy from Arkansas at mile 7. He was running to qualify for a ultramarathon trail race in Leadville. How does STL qualify for a trail race--the big potholes? We ran for about a mile together before I outpaced him.

The sticky yucky hands of a gel-eater. The gritty salty face. The slimy feeling of sweaty sunscreen.

Pappy's BBQ around mile 8. Smelled delish and awful at the same time. If I had eaten any at that point, I'd never want BBQ again.

I learned that dumping cold water on my head or chest caused a bit of a headache or cramp.

At mile 18, I wanted to eat ice. My mouth just wanted something different and refreshing. Some mint gum would have done the trick. Keep that in mind this summer and fall.

The mental calculations at mile 23, where I realized that if I could just keep a jogging pace I could sub-4. Followed by the panicky "can't do it/can do it/run/forget the distance/focus on the next few yards/can't do it/run/gogogogo" mental stream of thinking that starts when the blood glucose starts to fail.

How it feels to see a familiar face on the course, and the lengths I will go to look good while passing them. If you see me suffering in a race and I say I'm fine, just agree with me. It's what I need to hear. If I look like I'm about to collapse, well then you have to push me to keep going. If I collapse, just tell me "Death Before DNF, wimp" and kick me in the ass and shove me back onto the course ;-)

No really. Sometimes the collapsed-ness you see in us is a mental issue. Doubt. Sometimes. And just hearing that cheering, "you can do it", "keep pushing", "hang in there" is all it takes to push the mental doubt aside and keep going. When it's physical, you'll know it. Thank You to all the spectators who stood their all morning to yell words of encouragement to a bunch of strangers.

The flowering trees smelled so good in Forest Park. Thankfully I don't have allergies.

I love how weekends like this bring out the race cred t-shirts. Most spectators were wearing t-shirts from previous years or other races. I loved looking for races on the shirts. Boston, Cin City, Indy, Chicago, OKC, Little Rock... One guy in particular comes to mind, around mile 15-16 on Forsythe. He was about 40-50 years old and walking with a cane. He had on a marathon shirt from 1-2 years ago, can't remember the exact race but it was a midwest marathon. He also had 2 long, fresh, red scars across his knee caps. Knee surgery. And he was out to cheer us on and enjoy the race with us.

At mile 19 along Delmar, the houses don't face the street and instead their back fence does. You can't see into the yards due to the high fences and greenery. But still there was a family in the backyard beating a drum, ringing bells, and cheering us on. Maybe they could see us?

The frustrating realization that I still don't have the marathon figured out. In 2008 I crossed the finish line saying "Next time...". In 2010 I crossed the finish line "Sh!t, I have to do this again in September!". During miles 23-25, it occurred to me that maybe I liked training for the marathon, but not racing the marathon. Is this true?

The thankful realization that while I didn't reach my sub-4hr goal, I still had a great race. I didn't puke, pass out, get injured, or DNF.