Race day:
Justin, Thilde and Steve prepared breakfast for me and drove me down to the start line at 5:30 am, with plans to see me at mile 4, mile 7 and at the finish line later on. I met up with Amy and the Annapolis running group, so that we could all start and hopefully run the course together. We managed to squeeze into a start corral with 22,000 other people and I was feeling really claustrophobic- wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into, and wishing fervently that I was back in Baltimore, running by myself. The start gun went off and nothing happened for a bit, then slowly people stared shuffling forward en masse. About 8 or 9 minutes later, we got the actual start line and since the crowd had thinned out a bit we were able to run over the mat and then we were off!
The first few miles were easy. Once it thinned out I was just trying to get the hang of running as part of a group, in a much larger crowd and generally enjoying myself. We were running through downtown, but I don’t remember anything that was more than 6-8 feet away from my body. We ran along a road that was lined by Eucalyptus trees, and the smell was incredible. I remember looking around at that point, but only remember trees and runners and road. It could have been anywhere, with anything beyond it. When we started getting close to the 4 mile marker I was searching the crowds, hoping to see Justin and his parents. I finally spotted them standing at a corner where we were going to have to turn, so I darted across the other runners, planted a big sweaty kiss on his mouth and tried to make my way back to the group. A mile or so later there was a guy standing on the corner with an alpine horn, playing (blowing?) a tune, and just as I was thinking to myself, “how odd” someone running in front of me shouted out “Ri-co-la” and we all cracked up.
At the next water stop I lost my running buddies, and thinking that they had gone ahead, I sped up. After running pretty fast for 10 or so minutes, I decided that they had to be behind me, so I slowed down and after a few more minutes heard my name being called. It was Barb and Missy, but Amy wasn’t with them anymore. I started to get worried, as Amy had started the race with a knee injury and had made clear how important it felt for her to run with other people. At mile seven, I saw Justin standing on the base of a lightpost, and Steve and Thilde on the sidewalk beneath him- I drank them in, knowing that I had a long slog ahead and wasn’t going to see them until the end of the run. Somehow in the next couple of miles we managed to reunite with Amy and the rest of the Annapolis group. I ran with them until 9.5, when I dropped back.
From mile 5 to mile 10 was uphill the entire way, and I did OK until about mile 9, when keeping up with a group that ran fast for my pace was just too much. I tried to keep going at that pace- telling myself that it was only another mile, but I just couldn’t do it. I had spent a lot of time training on hills in Baltimore, but was not ready for a hill that went on quite that long, and that had the hardest grade at the end of it. I walked for a couple of minutes, knowing that when I saw that 10 mile marker I’d be golden- that it was well and truly all downhill from there. Soon into the downhill I saw Jack and then Kev, both TNT coaches, who were lovely and supportive and celebratory. I knew that I only had three miles to go and that it was going to be fine.
When we came off of the highway there was a man standing on the side of the road holding a sign that said “Leukemia patient. Thank you for running for me.” I felt tears welling up and a tightness in my chest letting go- thinking about the reasons I was running, what it meant for me to have raised $4000 and who I was carrying in my heart as I ran. I have struggled a lot with this in my training- I don’t have a personal connection to blood cancers, and ended up choosing to fundraise for this cause because they have such a good training program and justified it by hoping that any breakthroughs that are made in research will be beneficial not only for people living with blood cancers, but also for those I love who are struggling with other types of cancer. It has been hard, though, and I have made some people angry for choosing to do this, and have felt like a bit of an imposter and have certainly struggled with those feelings along the way. So this man that I don’t know, who was just standing on the side of a road with a sign that would apply to any one of 4,000+ people who had raised money for blood cancers made me cry, and made me feel like it was OK that I had chosen to take this path and that I had done the right thing. It reminded me that this is not about me, about my internal struggles, but that it is about the thousands of people whose lives are being torn apart by the diagnosis of a blood cancer.
The rest of the run went by in a blur, the last miles predictably long, but I had my iPod shuffling between “Breathe” by Sia and “24” by Jem for the last few minutes, and they carried me over the finish line. I didn’t pay attention to the time- I think it was 2:25, since I figured that the adjusted chip time would be on the site later. Justin, Steve and Thilde were standing right at the end waiting for me with smiles, a protein shake and peanut M&Ms. I found Missy and congratulated her and then we were off, to get to the full marathon finish line to cheer in Amy at the end.
