I ran 16 miles in 3 hours and 26 minutes (thanks to illness). I should be writing 26.2 miles in less than 5 hours, but that just didn't happen. My sister, Laura, however, finished her first marathon in 5 hours and 27 minutes! So happy for and proud of her!
I woke up feeling well, but took an imodium just in case since my tummy had been upset the night before. I showered, dressed, ate a peanut butter clif bar, drank some tart cherry juice, and off we headed to the trolley pick-up. The trolley pick up was just a few tenths of a mile from the hotel. The trolley dropped us off about a half-mile from the start. We waited in line for the bathroom at the trolley drop for quite a while, but then I feared we wouldn't make it to the start in time, so we left the line. We dropped our bags off at the baggage bus, consumed a Hammer Gel and small gatorade fifteen minutes before the race was supposed to start, and then got in line for the porta-potties. Thankfully, they decided to delay the race start by 10 minutes because of trolley delays. I exited the porta potty just as they announced the start, but didn't see Laura anywhere in the pre-dawn darkness. For the first few miles, I kept my eye out of her, but maintained the pace that my
running coach (Josh) prescribed (11 minutes per mile pace for the first 3 miles). About 2 miles into the race, I spotted her about a block ahead of me. I could have sprinted to catch up with her, but decided to run my own race. At mile 3, I increased the pace to 10:49. I consumed another hammer gel at mile 5, just like Josh had told me.
I focused my thoughts on Nathaniel during mile 5 to 6, since he's a 5-and-a-half year old with Cystic Fibrosis (CF) and his aunt so generously donated to the CF charity that I'm running for. The first 7 miles ranged from 10:49 to 11:06. I was so happy and predicting a personal record (PR). I was smiling and mentally rehearsing my victory statement of a sub-5 hour marathon. But then... the wheels fell off... During mile 8, my stomach started cramping. I was gaining on Laura, but at mile 9 I started desperately looking for a porta-potty. At mile 9.5, I spotted a porta-potty and got in line, praying I could hold it. Made it into the porta-potty and had my first round of diahrea for the day. That mile took over 20 minutes thanks to having to wait so long. But I had visions of making up some of the lost time. A mile later I was again desperately scanning the landscape for another porta potty. The next one was at a First Aid station. I asked for imodium and they had none. But a spectator overheard the request and caught up to me after I exited the porta-potty and handed me one; she just happened to have it in her purse. I felt for sure this was a sign that things would improve! I took the pill and knew that I would feel better soon. I was wrong. I barely contained myself between porta potties and slowed down drastically. At mile 14, I began to vomit. Then, for the first time, I added walking into the running, and prayed to contain until the next porta potty. I stumbled into the mile 16 aid station and the volunteers asked if I was okay. I said no and they asked what I needed. I said "bathroom" and they pointed me towards the porta potty. After using it, I stumbled out and collapsed. When I came to, I was told my race was over. I was so disappointed. I had simply lost more fluids than I could take in and had become too dehydrated. I really wanted to finish the race, but was just too sick. An aid station worker told me that there are hundreds of marathons around the country so I should just think of this as a 16 mile training run and register for another race. It made sense, but I still was very sad and disappointed. I kept thinking of Nathaniel, Tony and Susan (the three people with Cystic Fibrosis that I was running for), and felt horrible for letting them down, but vowed to make it up by completing a marathon in April, instead of now. They called a van to pick me and another woman up, who had to drop out too. She also wasn't feeling well, but looked better than me. The van took us to the medical tent at the finish area/bag pick-up. After receiving sufficient fluids, I got my bag, put on my fleece jacket and headed straight to the porta potty. I went back and forth between the spectator/finish area and the porta potty. I wanted to see Laura finish, but didn't know if I would be able. Josh called after he saw my texts/tweets; thankfully I was sitting on the curb watching finishers at that point, rather than in the porta potty. I fought back the tears as I talked to him. I felt like I let so many people down, especially him. He said the most important thing was that I was/would be okay and I just need to focus on feeling better. Easier said than done. Fortunately, I got to see Laura round the corner and finish in 5:27:45. I was so proud of her for completing her first marathon! She asked how I finished so much faster than her and I explained that I didn't. Then I had to run to the porta potty again while she grabbed her bag. We started walking back to the hotel and I wasn't sure I would make it without ruining my outfit. I told her I would leave the room door ajar and then I ran to the hotel; I made it just in time. I spent the rest of the afternoon bouncing back and forth between the bed and the toilet. We bought more imodium and went out for a late lunch as soon as my stomach had slowed a little. I took the imodium and ate some soup. I hoped for the best, but by the time we returned to the hotel, I was back in the bathroom. Unfortunately, I was very ill the rest of the day. I prayed I would be over it by morning since we had planned to drive back home tomorrow. So disappointed... Yet so grateful for the supportive text messages, emails and tweets from my running friends. And most importantly, so extremely grateful that Laura was with me!
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