Yesterday I ran the Marine Corps Marathon in our Nation's Capital. What a wonderful race it was. From the motivation and organization at the packet-pickup/expo to the motivation and support on trail. Hurricane Sandy came strolling into the east coast late Satruday night, it was supposed to pour on the race, but luckily, it held out untill shortly after the run. At the start line there was the plane demonstration by the Marines, the singing of the National Anthem, and the shooting of the howitzer, it was wonderful energy, all the way around.
Cums-a-Latte, her offspring, and I ran th race. All along there was entertainment and support, it was fantastic. It was cloudy and chilly, perfect for running. A beautiful fall, pre-hurricane morning in DC. We ran past all the monuments. There were so many supporters with signs -uh, oh, tangent...
I don't really think that the people who hold the signs at the long race in support will ever fully understand what they offer the runners. They keep me moving. They make me laugh, they remind me that I am not alone on trail! A few of my favorites from this trail "If Britney Spears could surive 2007, you can survive 26.2" "Chuck Norris never ran a marathon" "I've been training 6 months to hold this sign" "With no long run next Saturday, that means more Friday night sex!" "Yeah, you guys may be tired, but we're tired AND hungry!" and "Run! Hurricane Sandy is right behind you!" Thank you everyone who held the signs and supported us along the way, it means more than you will ever know!
off tangent- I was doing awesome, staying right on course with a solid 10 min/mile pace. I tried out the method of walking a minute at each water stop after mile 10, I was feeling awesome, crossed the 30k mark at 3:33, right on track for a 4:30 marathon, a personal PR. Then I saw the 23 mile sign and something in my right hip popped. It almost tripped me, the pain was increadible. I could hardly even walk, let alone run. I hobbled to mile 24 when I found some hashers and took a 15 minute beer/stretch break. I tried so hard to run, but my hip was stabbing me. I hobbled to the finish for a 5:53, which was a PW (personal worst) by almost an hour for me. I was so bummed, I didn't even want to accept the medal at the end.
I have the most supportive running partner/boyfiend in the world who helped remind me that I set out to do 26.2 miles and that is what I did. All my non-runner friends are proud/impressed. I can't feel my feet and my hip still hurts, but otherwise I'm well and I'm glad I finished.
I was debating sitting next weekend out, but after setting a PW this weekend, that is not an option!
"Push yourself, no one else is going to do it for you"
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