Where to begin. I suppose I could start at the beginning of my training (about 17weeks ago) when I thought running 5 miles was a big deal. Or maybe towards the end of my training when I thought 20oz of water and 2 scoops of Scratch was adequate hydration for a 15 mile run. I could go on about how many times I was this close to losing a leg to a wild animal that was definitely trying to attack me on the Silver Comet. But no, let's fast forward to last Wednesday and my date with a witch.
The now annual "send off" costume party brought friends and supporters of the Kyle Pease Foundation out to 5 Seasons Brewery for some fun, dancing and to wish those participating in the 2016 Marine Corps Marathon good luck! Harper wanted to try out her Halloween costume before showing it off to her gals on the streets of Dunwoody and the wicked witch was a hit. I donned the same costume as a 6 month old, so there's that. Turns out raccoons are in. This is always a fun event, but this year, it was a sobering (literally) reminder of what the weekend would bring.
Thursday we loaded up the truck with the racing chairs and loaded up the minivan with athletes and we were on our way. It was a long drive up to Elon, North Carolina (home of Phoenix) for an overnight pit stop. Friday we were back on the road for another 6 or 7 hours until we got in late afternoon. When we got into town, I quickly fled to the city and grabbed a bite with a friend. I wasn't in DC for 5 minutes and understood why people love it so. It's clean, commuter friendly, quaint and picturesque. If they could only get rid of their politician problem, it'd be an ideal place to be.
The Metro. A train that takes you places you actually want to go. What a concept.
Saturday I relaxed and watch Michigan (Go Blue!) finally get over the hump against those pesky Spartans. For dinner, there was an event with all of the athletes from the Kyle Pease Foundation and partners for the Marine Corps Marathon, the Ability Experience. It was an inspirational, carbo-loading evening. The athletes all got their race day bags filled with everything needed, including some new Newton's, Beats by Dre and the KPF team shirts. Before I knew it, I was out and my 4:30am alarm was going off. Race day.
We unloaded the chairs, navigated our way to the team tent, loaded up on nutrition and had time for a photo before heading to the starting line. At this point, my heart rate was already out of control and I peed 3 times. There were seas of people, but everyone was overwhelmingly positive and supportive of our team. It was a great feeling and a great way to embark on our adventure.
Dale, Jesse and I getting ready at the starting line.
At some point around 7:40, we started running. Jesse and I took turns pushing Dale every other mile. It was a hilly first couple miles, but the scenery was quite pretty and the crowd was up early and loud. I made it all the way to about 7 or 8 miles before I started to question the whole thing. My feet started to hurt, hips started to tighten up and the reality of another 19ish miles didn't sound too appealing. But we kept going. Jesse was a great teammate. He supported me when I needed it and after a while everything just kind of went numb. There was enough distraction throughout the course to keep my mind off of the misery, historic landmarks, bands, performers, runners dressed in Halloween costumes (looking at you team with giant cat face singlets and real life Chewbacca) and inspirational runners. The 80 year old guy who cruised past us, the man with bionic legs walking the entire 26.2, the Blue Mile, Dale. It was easy to be distracted by the courage, strength and sacrifice of so many. It put my "pain" into perspective. We kept going.
The highlight of the entire thing was the never ending smile and excitement Dale rolled through each part of the race with. Almost everyone who passed us talked him up and encouraged him. The best moment came sometime before or after the bridge (that bridge can kiss my ass by the way, sheesh) when we made a left hand turn near a rowdy crowd. It was loud, like really loud. Dale hyped them up so much I couldn't hear anything and I got the chills. It was pretty incredible, a moment I won't soon forget. We had about 6 or 7 miles left and we kept going.
At some point I lost my sunnies. The conversations started to pick back up and light was at the end of the tunnel. My marathon shuffle was in full effect and the crowds started to get bigger and bigger. It was kind of like approaching the 18th hole at Augusta National. This was it. As we came down the home stretch, the music started to get louder and louder and then we could hear the announcer welcoming finishers across the line. As we made one final turn, there just happened to be one last big ass hill to climb. We kept going and we crossed at 5 hours and 21 minutes. We had done it. Marathon finishers.
Monday morning, the pain had settled in. I couldn't drink enough coffee for our 6:30am departure. After waddling downstairs, we loaded up the minivan, hopped in the box truck and left for Atlanta, medals around our neck. The drive was long, like 12 hours long, but as we'd done the day before... we just kept going.