After Action Report – Marine Corps Marathon:

Posted on November 8, 2010

26.2 miles and a Beer Shot

It’s over. The MCM was October 31…and yesterday I was happy to watch part of the ING New York Marathon from the comfort of my home, and like so many others I was thrilled to watch Chilean miner Edison Pena cross the finish line.  For those of you who might like a peek at what it looks like from the back end of a marathon….here it is….

….the AFTER ACTION REPORT….(I promise,  only a few lines devoted to time, and then the real fun starts!)

This time last year, I thought I’d failed.

I was picking up the pieces of the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon, and trying to make sense of the months of training that led to what seemed at the time to be nothing but heartache, pain and a totally undeserved finish time.  5:17…it still stings, but remember that time.

It’s easy to think that anything less than your goal time is unimpressive. Watching my amazing friends battle through their own Marine Corps Marathons made me realize all over again what a crazy adventure of a race the marathon is. When things go wrong, you can literally add an hour to your overall race time. That means that rather than trying your absolute hardest for four hours, you might be trying your absolute hardest for five hours or more. Then, even after trying your absolute hardest for an extra hour of your life, you might finish feeling conflicted, or even disappointed, about your finish since your time wasn’t what you expected.

The take away:  The AHA!!   The rest of the world could care less about your time, and is more impressed with the fact that you simply finished than you could imagine.  I mean, did ANYONE care how long it took Edison Pena to cross the line?  Congratulations to all marathon finishers—you’re my heroes!

The Fun Begins

Pre-Race Expo:   The runners’ expo on Friday and Saturday before the race is absolutely huge and an event unto itself.  You can find just about anything related to running and snag a lot of free swag.  The bag of goodies you get just for registering is also chock full o’ energy snacks, water bottles, coupons and gadgets.  Anyone knows me understands I am cheap financially responsible, so normally I don’t buy the cool athletic gear but this year Ben bought me a fantastic MCM windbreaker which I plan to wear every single day of my life often and I bought a red headband with a Jack O’ Lantern on it to commemorate Halloween.

Runners go to the Expo to pick up their bib numbers and cool free stuff including the coveted LONG SLEEVE MOCK TURTLE SHIRT (they always talk about it in caps ‘cuz it’s just so cool…) and I also got a gift bag from the Semper Fi fund.

However – you had to get there first:  Did anyone notice that there was a RALLY scheduled the day before the Marathon?  Well…here’s a sample of the metro experience:

And here is a view of the crowds from the second floor of the National Air and Space Museum.

But we finally made it to the Expo and I picked up my race bib and shirt!

And then I found the WONDERFUL people at the Semper Fi Fund Booth.  This is where I want to thank the people that supported me in my endeavor to raise funds for SF.  This organization provides financial assistance to our wounded Marines and their families.  I was very proud to be a part of their effort this year.

But the real story starts when the alarm sounds  just before 5am on Sunday, October 31, 2010.  I had put out my gear the night before and carefully checked and triple checked it all for anything that could possibly go wrong.  I got up, dressed and thought about eating.  I fought to take a bite of a bagel…and lost.  I know you have to eat before the race.  I couldn’t.  I didn’t.  I worried about that a bit.  But I had a supply of gels/bars/beans which would be the calories I could consume when I calmed down later.  Just not now.

Still dark and cold out, Ben and I took the walk to the nearby Metro station. There were already others filing to the Metro…it was so quiet…and chilly, but not as cold as I had feared.   I was glad I brought a toss away sweatshirt to wear before the start.   Ben and I had really enjoyed this part of the pre-race last year and were looking forward to it again.  The pre-dawn walk through the Pentagon grounds is impressive, and if we timed it right we would be there for the flag raising that takes place at daybreak.  However, there was a slight glitch this year.  The crowds were bigger, and I was distracted and – long story short, it happened:  Ben and I got separated at the Metro station. One second we were holding hands and talking, the next thing I knew he was standing on the platform and I was on the train as it pulled away.  He knocked on the window and gave me the thumbs up, but I was devestated.  There was no reasonable way we would reconnect before the race.  I called him as soon as I could get a cell signal to let him know that I was OK…but there I was, surrounded by a tens of thousands of people and I was alone – and lonely, and nervous..no, scared.  By the way, I had my phone, but no money or Metro card, so it would be a challenge to exit the station.  The folks who saw Ben get separated really stepped up and before I knew it I had offers of money and a fare card in my hand.  Nice!

At least I had a crowd to follow.  I silently walked the short distance into the pre-race runner’s village. Still dark out, lines of people went through security where the Marines check all bags and we all poured into a huge lot. The lot is lined with UPS trucks for drop bags  on one side and hundreds of port-o-potties with hundreds of people in each line on the other side.  I didn’t have a bag to check, but if I did I would have handed it to the UPS guy and he would have returned it to me at the end of the race.  It’s amazing – otherwise conservative and cautious people simply hand i-phones, wallets, clothing and banana halves to the boys in brown, fully trusting their stuff will be there at the other end.   Runners were spreading out with their pre-race breakfasts (again…no possible way I could eat…) stretching and preparing for the challenge. I met some very nice people in the port-o-potty line (which was so long I thought this lady was going to ask me to be her son’s godmother before we left).  I finally made my way to the starting corrals.  This year I was very bold and walked as close to the front of the line as I dared.  I could actually hear it when it came… the National Anthem. 150,000 people stopped what they were doing.  Miles of chaos and activity and noise simply stopped.  Marines, soldiers and sailors snapped to attention.  Veterans stood tall, civilians took notice and did the same.  I sang the National Anthem with my hand over my heart and I knew…just then…that I was ready.

I knew I had put in the time and effort and had earned the privilege of standing in this crowd, on this day, for this race. 

The music was cranking, the DJ was playing, the emcee was shouting, the crowd was fired up, the canon fired (Marines, after all…) and the runners ran. With so many people running, I didn’t even cross the starting mat until almost 8 minutes after the official start.The rush of excitement was physical, especially for the thousands that were about to begin their first 26.2.  An F/A-18 and other jets flew and the crowd went wild.   Shortly after starting I saw the USMC Mounted Color Guard off to the left. This is the only remaining mounted color guard in the Marine Corps today.

At least this year I was prepared for the elevation.  You see, this is not only billed as “the People’s Marathon” since there is no prize money awarded, it is also a known as a very first time friendly marathon and a FLAT marathon.  Puhleezz…where did they get THAT idea?

Off I went. I glanced at my Citizen Eco Drive watch…a black watch face with an hour and minute hand.  No Garmin for me….just the basics please.   For a split second I wondered where Ben was in the crowd…but I knew he would be at the finish, and that’s all that mattered.

We ran past the outer fringe of Arlington Cemetery and could see the lines of headstones.   Ironically, we could see the finish line from the start; and sadly I had to run past it to get to it again.  I knew right away my hill training would pay off on the first 8 miles (and it did.  Yeah!)   Runners quickly tossed off their hoodies and extra T-shirts as they warmed up. There were Marines at every mile marker…but this one stood out as he said in his biggest, loudest, toughest, Parris Island DI -inspired voice:  “Come on Ladies, Easy DOES NOT Inspire!”

Discarded clothing and gloves were everywhere for two miles or more.  Excited and nervous chatter quieted down as the elevation grew at mile 8.  The reward at the top was fantastic if you like to run downhill.  The guys next to me kept reminding all of us to “slow down, slow down, take it easy…save your knees…” and they were right.  I was afraid to fall on my face, as that would have made for a very ugly finish photo.  Mile 9 puts you right in Georgetown which is a lot like the whole entire fan base for the Holyoke St. Patrick’s Day road crammed into two blocks…the marching band was playing, the crowds were screaming…the signs were awesome and the runners were feeling the love.  It was here I realized that I had not yet put on my ipod (ok, i-shuffle and no it is not lame).  I decided to go without it until I hit a “dead zone”, which never happened.

I carried my phone with me so I could call Ben at the turn.  Last year’s call at 13.1 wasn’t so great – this year would be much better.  I had hit my goal for the half marathon distance and was feeling like a “real” runner.  Good pace, decent form…strong legs.  I called Ben, reported in and told him I’d call him at the 20 mile mark  (memories of hitting the wall last year at mile 20 were still very fresh.  I hit that wall like a bug hits a windshield)  The half-marathon distance is perfect.  Absolutely perfect.  Why would anyone want to go any further?  Rats.  13.1 to go….

At this point I was still in good spirits, everything was going very smoothly.  I drank water and PowerAde at every stop, managed to eat a few bites of a power bar, squirted some gel stuff into my mouth (never chocolate, always go with something pink or orange…) so I was not missing the bagel – much.

And then I hit mile 15.  Good ole’ mile 15.  Whose legs are those anyway?  Mine?  No way.  Mine were keeping up a nice steady pace just ten minutes ago.  These are stiff and heavy.  I want my legs back!

If it wasn’t for the view I may have just quit, right then.  Yeah, yeah, the Jefferson Memorial is gorgeous…but I don’t want to run anymore.  I want coffee and eggs benedict.  I want to quit.  But where would this country have been if Thomas Jefferson had quit  the night he wrote the Declaration of Independence?

Mile 16 was no better.  And who cares about Jefferson anyway?  Did HE ever run a marathon?

Oh-oh…the dreaded stop/go conversation takes over.   “What a stupid idea this is!  Why do I do this to myself anyway?  I mean, what’s wrong with a nice 10k?  My feet hurt, my legs hurt…my time is slow, this means nothing to me. I don’t need this to be a complete person…just stop.  Now. I can call Ben and he will come and get me.  I can go back and put my feet up and just hang out.  I can tell people I got blisters, a cramp, anything.  They won’t care…just stop.”

Suddenly I remembered:  “Come on Ladies, Easy DOES NOT Inspire!” There it is:  The Lincoln Memorial, surrounded by tens of thousands of people cheering you on…and this, my fellow Americans, is why you don’t quit – yet.

And I finally get it…mile 16, 16^th president…something to think about for almost a minute until you remember that your feet are killing you.

And then it gets fun again.  You find yourself at mile 17 running by the Washington monument headed on the way to the Capital.  I am finally “On the Mall” where just 24 hours before a 100,000 plus crowd of people were screaming for Steve Colbert and John Stewart – and may I just say that the National Parks Service deserves some serious high five for keeping our nation’s capital so clean despite us.

So that’s two more miles behind you.  And you look around a bit and think –   Hey look at her!  If SHE can do this I sure as heck can do this.  And check HIM out…if they can do it dressed like that then I sure can do this….

But seriously…many, many…far too many people dress like this:

People wore the pictures of those who had been injured or killed  in the line of duty, or paid tribute to loved ones lost to cancer.   People ran to raise funds for cures, children, community outreach projects, and more.

The back of my T-shirt carried the Semper Fi fund message as well as photos of my Marine son and my Marine might-as-well-be sons.  Fortunately they are all alive and well…and I did not forget for one minute how this makes me the luckiest mom in the world right now.  I met an incredible man named Steve who was running to honor his son, his friend and his hero.  Eric was supposed to run this marathon with his dad, but LCpl Eric, 19, was killed in Afghanistan earlier this year.  So Steve ran alone.  We talked…ok, he talked, I listened.  It was ten minutes that changed my life.

I looked up and there was the 20 mile mark!  I called Ben and…he DID NOT ANSWER!  Really. So I kept going.  I knew the dreaded bridge was ahead, and I wanted to get over that bridge in one piece.  By now I knew I was falling behind my goal time with every step, but I also felt my legs get steady again which was very reassuring.    

Looking forward, the view from this bridge is toward the Pentagon, with the promise of the finish line within reach.   Just a 10k to go. Rats.

At the 21st mile water stop I decided to walk a bit…stoop down and stretch my lower back, rip open a gel and gag down a bit…and call Ben.  Yeah!  He answered!  I told him my location and ETA, cringing at the thought.  By now I knew what I would have to do if I had any chance of meeting my goal.  It wasn’t looking good.  A minute later I was off.  Just 5+ miles to go…umm…where are my feet?  Did anyone see my feet?  They are smallish…decent pedicure for a runner…and yes, all ten toenails are intact.  But where did they go?  I looked down again to make sure…jumped up and down a few times…apparently it was all in my head and they were there the whole time.  Funny how that goes.

Miles 22-24 take you through Crystal City.  This is a very robust, exciting part of the race – IF you are a spectator.  If not, it is the longest two miles ever.  These people hand out candy, popsicle sticks with dollops of Vaseline, band-aids and…beer shots!  Yup…never did one ounce of beer have such an effect on anyone as it did for me at that moment!  Those cool guys handing out beer shots are my new BFFS…we laughed, we cried, we hugged…sigh….and then they shoved me out of the way and told me to go get my medal!

Ok, so it was an absolute that I was slow – again – this year.  My race pace goal was bust.  I was kicking myself (yeah right, as if  I could even lift my foot) for stopping to take pictures, talk to people, drink water, stretch…after all, if  had just kept to myself and ignored everyone and everything I could have met my goal.  I was so sad I had tears streaming down my cheeks.  Honest to God. Until I looked up and saw a line of one hundred Marines waiting for us at mile 25.  ONE HUNDRED.    ok, maybe 40…but still….I high-fived and hugged and kissed all of them!  No more tears.

Finally the 25 mile mark came, WOOOOOOO, let’s DO THIS!!

“Aghhhhhhhhhh, now it’s one more mile!!” But I knew what was coming and it is the most exciting part of the race, of course. By now I just wanted the medal, a bottle of water, and maybe a chair.

The crowds are crazy at the 26 mile mark…just time for a look around, a reminder that this is why you are here and there it is.  The signature finish is an 80 foot hill in the last 0.15 mile stretch leading you to the Iwo Jima Memorial.

And there it was, FINISH.  I crossed the mat, and this is the guy who caught me as I collapsed congratulated me as he hung a medal around my neck.

The next thing I knew a Marine was wrapping a foil blanket around my shoulders – I LOVE those blankets! Then a Marine handed me a bottle of water and a bag with snacks, and another directed me to the area where you get your picture taken in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial.

And I was trying to call Ben but I couldn’t get through for the first few minutes. Finally he got the call and just as I said hello he was standing in front of me on the other side of a fence.  I was so glad to see him!

Way back at the beginning I asked you to remember the finish time of my first Marine Corps Marathon – it was 5:17.  This year? 5:17. Really.  You see, my goal was a sub 5 hour finish.  Instead I got the experience of a lifetime.  I win.

Thank you again to those of you who supported my efforts with the Semper Fi fund, friends who encouraged me to keep training when I wanted to stop, who laughed with me and at me, who showed up to help me on my long Saturday training runs…and who showered me with encouragement and congratulations when it was over.

Categories: Goals and Motivation