I...walked...the marathon

Yes! I did it, and lived to tell the tale. I have to say that all in all I found the experience pretty surprising, and not being a terribly sappy person, all the stuff other people said about being emotional and crying, and all that- I was skeptical, because, I thought, yeah, they're crying because they walked 26 frickin' miles! But strangely, I found an element of truth to what those sappy people are saying. I think everyday life lends itself to making accomplishments invisible, because we get up go to work, take care of our kids and it just sort of happens...only rarely at graduations, weddings, maybe if you get an award or something do you ever get that "Yeah, I did it!" feeling. I admit it, when I crossed that finish line I got that rare "Yeah I did it" feeling, it is so rare and so incredible it imprints on your mind....but I'm getting ahead of my story.

For me the whole marathon idea started one year ago, at the 2004 Portland Marathon, where I did the Mayor's Walk which is at 10k (6 mile) I was pretty much thrashed after 6 miles. I am not an athletic person, but I can walk....mostly, except in high heels....and I did need to get in better physical shape, after all calling my extra weight, "baby weight" when my daughter is 11 years old, well, just isn't cutting it.

I joined a women's training group, which was the smartest thing I did. I had a group of ladies I walked with and a program that made it seem do-able. We would meet up at insane hours in the morning and go for increasingly long walks. We even met on off weeks to stay motivated. And the groups were created to have people who were at the same paces and fitness levels, so it was comfortable, you weren't killing yourself to keep up with some speedy person. I know our group was not the fast group, but it was fun.

So, starting in March I was dragging my ass out of bed to meet these ladies and fitting in walks on my own. At the first walk, the 5 mile "leg stretcher" I had to go home and soak my feet. In June at the 12 mile walk, I missed a party I wanted to go to because I couldn't stand. In August on my own independent 17 mile walk I was so exhusted I curled up on a bus bench. All this misery came in handy, I tell ya.

So marathon week rolls around, and I think "Holy crap!" Even though I met other milestones, such as the 20 miler in August and around 22 mile graduation walk in September, in a slightly less wrecked state...I still felt "Holy crap! What!??! This week....." So, that was my mind-set. I was also fearing failure - imaging my self pooping out, being dragged off the course for staggering around in a daze, crashing out somewhere, injuries, passing out....So, with all these reassuring thoughts swirling around in my mind, Saturday came. I was able to put it out of my mind for the day, but when evening came, I obsessed over....socks. For me the whole sock thing became critical to my walking because when I first started out I had blisters and the right shoes and socks were critical to not getting blisters. I had found the almost perfect socks, and having tried others with disasterous results I maintain a fierce loyalty to my socks. (Cool Max Pro-Spirit socks, at LeTarget, you get 6 pair for around $8) The one flaw of the super-socks is that the toes blew out on long walks, painfully wedging your big toe in a tight hole cutting off blood flow. Very uncomfortable. So, Saturday night, I pull out all these socks, I tear apart laundry mountain (our affectionate name for the never ending pile of dirty clothes) for any socks and wash those. Then it was "selection time" I looked over all the socks for wearing at the toe. Which socks would pass muster for the big day? I inspected each sock like those dog-show judges, every sock evaluated for form, fitness. The winning pair was crowned. The runner up pair I instructed my husband to meet me with at mile 20, the usual blow out point for super socks. So, I tucked away pair number 2, to replace the winning pair if they were unable to complete their duties as Miss Marathon Socks.

So, after the freakishly obsessive sock episode, it was time for bed. I couldn't sleep. I listened to music, and it helped a little. I fell asleep at 1:00 am and what seemed like moments later the alarm went off at 4:30 am.

Marathon Day had arrived.

I took a shower and packed, re-packed, my stuff, made a list for my husband and drove him insane asking him about it. We left the house at 5:30 am. I arrived downtown at around 6:00 am and perused the scene. The volunteers were setting up and it was excited chaos. In contrast to pretty much the entire year, I was the early one (go figure, I'm almost ALWAYS the late one)
My walking group ladies and I met up at the Justice Center, and after a little rah-rah time, it was time to go. My group and I went to the start point, it was clausterphobically crowded. I started bouncing on my toes. Then, bam, we were off. It was hard not to go really fast because of the energy and adreniline but our group leader cautioned us to keep pace. The first 7 miles felt like nothing, but a regular walk, as our group pretty much stayed together. I felt a little uncomfortable futzing with my jacket, hat, headphones, fanny pack water bottles (tip: when walking the marathon, LESS IS BEST) Then each member kind of started going at their own paces. At mile 9 there were port-a-potties with no lines so I took my potty break. Then I picked up the pace (my admittedly kind of slow pace) and hit mile 10 at 3 hrs 7 minutes, which was great, because that was exactly three hours from the start line for me, so my pace was just right.
At mile 11 the UO Alumni were manning the aid station playing our fight song, so that was cool. I told them I was a grad, and they cheered me saying "Go! class of '91 lady." Oh, yea, I did not know you could get your name on your bib, which most people did, so people cheered people by name on the route, I did get cheers that went "Hey! Go 7121, you can do it" (7121 was my bib number) and "Go lady in the pink shirt!"

At mile 13 Allie and Justin were waiting with my PBJ sandwich. It was so cool to see them! Allie ran to me, sandwich in hand bouncing up and down. They walked with me a bit and then it was the St. Helens Hwy. One of my major goals was to make it over the St. Johns Bridge which they close at a certain time and and then you get bussed over. I was determined to make it and do the whole marathon, so I picked up the pace to 16 min. miles. Then the hill on the bridge. I cranked the headphones to Pearl Jam and powered up the hill. I made it, I think in the nick of time. The breeze on the bridge felt good and I was still striding along...and then...a nasty side cramp I had just past the 18 mile marker when shin splints and sideache reached its high point. I kind of fell on /grabbed a telephone poll. I was in serious, severe pain, I clung to the poll to stay upright...I'm pretty sure I offended the other walkers by yelling out "F***! Oha....OHHH...this f***ing hurts!" I tried to do the breathing techniques I learned in childbirth class...the obscenities soon gave way to moaning and whimpering. Then I tried to remember stretches we were supposed to do, but could not remember and just worked on staying upright with out embracing the phone pole. I streched a little and started walking the pain subsided, but I was definitely slowed. The leg pain, thank God, worked its way out as I walked. Justin and Allie met me at the 20 mile mark with Red Vines, peppermints and socks. Miss Marathon Socks were well chosen, as she held up the whole way. Allie had a "GO MOM" sign she held up. Lots of good encouragement. A friend from a group I volunteer with lives in that area and she walked with me for 2 miles, bless her soul. At the 22 mile mark I saw our group leader- big smile and all, a volunteer from our ladies group walked me in the last 4 miles, which turned out to be a great thing, since you can make conversation and just keep motoring along without getting discouraged. My pace now was probably 21 minute mile, but I didn't care, I just wanted to finish. The last two miles had a death march quality about it, like move or die...It was funny my work's Executive Director's wife and daughter walked it too, and I saw them off and on at the end. At about mile 24 I asked E. how she was doing and she said "floating on a cloud of pain"--- When I saw our Executive Director at the base of the Steel Bridge he asked how I was and I said "On the cloud of pain with your daughter!"

I was finally headed up Salmon St. the end of the marathon. People were cheering, I felt slightly out of body, and I crossed the finish line I saw my daughter bouncing, cheering, taking pictures as the finisher's medal was placed around my neck.