Erin Go Run

OK, so a marathon is just slightly over 26 miles…  .2 over. That’s about 40 seconds of running time. Once you pass the 26 mile marker, your thoughts, whatever they are be it defeat, PST, bathroom, pain, etc. they all turn to triumph as you run through the last .2 of the race. It might be a strategic thing race coordinators do, but it always seems that you can start to see the finish line right as you pass the 26 mile marker. So obviously, your smile comes out, you feel strong, fast, and confident. You listen to the crowds calling out for your strong finish.  This .2 of the race, I thought this is why you are here, E. This is why. And this is why I was here. I looked around at the crowds that didn’t notice my fatigue, my pain, my struggle, or my slow time. They saw a runner, an accomplishment, a woman finishing.
One step at a time, I conquered almost every fear I had (save for the dark) and I was about to venture into another world. I was becoming a bigger person, a new person, an older person. I was not finishing as the same girl that started. Sure we had the same bib number, but I was leaving someone behind –me.

Credits:
Thank you all for bearing through this adventure and for supporting me the whole way. To everyone that contributed to my experience and my trip, I will never be able to thank you enough. I could not have done any of this without you. Thanks to mom and dad, evisibility (Danny, Cary, everyone that donated to the fund ), Brent, Oz, Kristen, Mark (for showing me the race in the first place), <<music playing>> everyone else…. THank you all I love you. The fans, you are the reason I am here….. thank you.
 

Well, here are the last miles of my marathon, but do not think for one second that this blog is done… Just because the marathon had to end, doesn’t mean that my running ends too. It might have for the two following weeks that I was on my trip, but now that I am back, I am running again and will have many blogs to tell you, stories to pass on, and helpful hints that will bring out the runner in all of you… (Come back! I was joking!).

Mile 24
At this point, the tunnel of fans are yelling out to us, “Only two more miles to go!” I happened to be running next to this gentleman who looks over at me and says, “Yeah, the longest two miles of our lives.” After hearing that, I started to think about these last two miles. In some cases, two miles is not much at all. Its about 15-20 minutes, about the time a sitcom runs without commercials, the time it takes to write half a page for an SEO article, the time it takes to drive from Carlsbad to La Jolla. On the other hand, 15-20 minutes is also the time it takes to get a filling, the time you sit nervously waiting for a job interview, or the amount of time between songs on morning radio. No matter how you look at it, you have two more miles to go, and then a lifetime to think back on it.

Mile 25
While mile 25 is probably the mile I looked forward to the most (after mile 26, of course), it was also the saddest mile. It as about halfway through the mile and I came up on a man barely able to shuffle along, talking to a guy on a bike. My initial reaction was to give the guy on the bike a piece of my mind for being on the course, but as I got closer I realized that he was actually helping the shuffler. The shuffler was complaining about something, pain, dehydration, typical marathon stuff, and all the while screaming that he couldn’t go on. The guy on the bike was trying to motivate him to keep it up through the last mile and a half. Almost right as I passed him, he screamed bloody murder at the top of his lungs and almost disappeared behind me as he stopped to walk. I followed him, turning my head back, and quickly caught a glimpse of him throwing his hands up into the air. Looking up at the sky, I knew he was asking himself why; why he had given up and why he wasn’t able to hang on for another mile. Of course, I began asking myself why I was complaining so much about the last two miles of my own race and how I wasn’t going to beat my previous time when some people have nothing else in them that they give up so close to the finish. This led me to questions about why I run 30 minutes at lunch and why I run so many road races and finish in an average place. The answer is simple though. Because I know what it feels like to throw my hands up in disappointment and let down, and I wasn’t going to let it ever happen again. We all have moments of defeat; his just happened to be at that moment.

Mile 26
Just like all of you that have run vicariously through this marathon with me, through mile 26 I just wanted to finish. I was ready to cross the line, get my medal and t-shirt and call it a day. I was so beat up and in so much pain; I had nothing in me except for the finish line. I was still looking at my watch and still thinking about the guy that gave up, if he would end up picking back up again. And I thought of my best friend who was somewhere cheering for me on the sidelines. I thought about Oz who was running somewhere behind me, and everyone back at home who was sleeping in their beds in lovely California PST. There was nothing sentimental going through my head at this point, sorry to burst your bubble. I just wanted to get done and get the hell out. I knew I was almost done, so I didn’t need any positive thoughts to get me through. Just get me past that line…. PLEASE!

Mile 21

Mile 21 I had given up on trying to beat my previous marathon time. I regret saying this, but I settled. I settled for a finish. Looking back, it was probably the weakest mile; mentally the weakest mile. From mile 16 or 17, I don’t think my body could have gotten any weaker, but your mentality can always find somewhere lower to go. I was looking at my watch quite frequently in hopes that it might stop so that I could get a little bit more ahead of my time. Alas, it didn’t. For example, for the runners reading this blog, it is a sign of fear to your opponents when you spend the last few yards, seconds of a race looking back searching for their placement. Looking at my watch is parallel to that, in that it should my weakness.

Mile 22

This mile I knew I HAD to be getting close to finishing. The crowds were beginning to fill out the streets more and they kind of funneled in, creating a narrow pathway for the runners. After 22 miles, you have to imagine that the 12,000 people running the race have spread out somewhat; as I ran through this funnel alone, I felt everyone cheering for ME! This little tunnel made me forget about my weakness. I began to feel a- I wouldn’t call it a second wind, or even a twentieth wind- new energy. I got a little bit more confident in my performance and in the race. I fed off of the energy of the crowds (because let’s face it, I had nothing in me- literally) and managed to muster up some final energy that would get me through the next miles.

Mile 23

You are probably thinking this had to have been the longest marathon ever! I just keep going and going and going. And here I am at mile 23, and I still have 3 miles to go! Actually a full 5K to go! At first, I had these same thoughts, but soon I turned them from the longest race to wow! I am already almost done. I thought back on the last 3 hours, to the start of the race, where I had run from, and what I had seen. I kept thinking of the last three hours as if they were the last thirty minutes. The best way to describe it (hopefully it works) is like in an action movie/mystery. The main character spends the whole movie trying to solve something. At some point in the final minutes of the movie, he turns into slow motion and becomes transparent. In his head are flashing the last scenes from the movie, some fast motion and some slow motion. These scenes all have some sort of component that begins to put the pieces of the mystery into place. And then- the final thought- is moments before they go back to the present when the mystery is solved. That was mile 23 for me. Usually the main character finds out he is going to die, but I thought about the fact that I was so close to a huge accomplishment.

Just because I am home back into the States guys, doesn’t mean that I stop blogging. Not by any means. In fact, it just means that my blogs are going to be written more reflectively and will be more drawn out because I have unlimited internet time and I know the keyboard, whereas what you have been reading until now was timed by the amount of Euros I had in my pocket and the fact that it took more concentration to find the periods and punctuation on the keyboard. And now, back to the marathon.

Mile 18
After mile 17, I had almost eaten a meal trying to grab food and candy from the crowds, but I still felt like I did not have enough in me to finish. Not getting my dinner the night before might have been my biggest mistake in preparation for the race, but it allowed me to leave my germ-a-phob comfort zone and grab food from strangers. Once I saw the mile 18 marker, I started thinking a little bit more positively; kind of like after a big Thanksgiving meal when you unbutton your pants in satisfaction and just enjoy the biggest meal you had that year.  While I didn’t have to unbutton my pants, I did enjoy the fact that I had gotten through the hardest part of the race and could now start the countdown to the finish of the race. Through mile 18, I began to think about the finish line, the satisfaction I would get, and the fact that I now only had less than 8 miles to run (that is less than an hour left of running).

Mile 19
Mile 19, while many say it is the point at which many people “hit the wall,” was instead for me the mile to look forward to, and thinking back it is probably the mile that I will enjoy looking back on. Once you get past mile 19, you are in the 20’s which has the 2 in it that precedes the 6.2 in the length of the total race. During this mile I started thinking about all the people back at home, and on the sidelines, that had helped and supported me in signing up, and completing this race. I thought about everyone at work that would call me crazy when I was upset that I “only ran 45 minutes” one day. I thought about my family that had spent years and miles traveling to all of my cross country races just to watch me run for 20 minutes (which most of the time they might have only seen a minute of it). I thought of the people donating to my Ireland fund, the people urging me to run as many miles as I could, the ones that inspired me to travel out of comfortable Southern California, the ones that offered me advice and suggestions for my trip, and the ones that motivated me to do the things that I wanted to do. I thought about the people that never gave up on me, and that never let me give up on myself. I thought about the people that could have been here with me and the ones that couldn’t. I was thankful for everyone that had played some part in every step of the race, in every step of my trip. I thought about them, and I still do.

Mile 20
Mile 20 I started thinking about myself (surprise surprise). I knew I was on the home stretch with only 6 miles to go. I wasn’t going to get the PR (personal record) that I had secretly hoped for, but I thought I might be able to beat my previous marathon time that I had been ashamed of before I even started the race. I began to focus on my form, my steps, and my pace. I tried to calculate what I needed my splits to be in order to finish the race under 3:40. It didn’t seem impossible. But it also didn’t seem likely.

Mile 16

This might have been the worst mile of the whole race. When you see the sign that says Mile 16, the first thing that runs through your mind is “wow… already at 16, I must be getting closer.” But that is very short, and since you have already run 16 miles, the blood rushes through more quickly- so do your positive thoughts. In a marathon, something that you can do to pass the miles more quickly (at least in your mind) is to think- well, in another 7 or 8 minutes, I can think about the next mile. Not in mile 16, my friends, not in mile 16. This was my slowest mile (almost 10 minutes… shhh!) and the hardest one to get through. After 7 or 8 minutes, I was still in the same mile! My thoughts went from wow, 16 miles to s— I still have 10 more miles to go! I can go on about what this means, but basically it is more than an hour of running, more than a run around Mission Bay, and more than an episode of America’s Next Top Model (for all the non-runners). That is a heck of a long time left to go.

mile 17

I never believed in a runner hitting “the wall.” To me it has always been something that I can tell scary stories about and intimidate those people that have no clue what it is but you know all you are doing is making yourself look better. Almost like when I would ask people for tips on travelling through Europe. All I got were scary stories and suggestions to tape my passport where the sun don’t shine. Now that I am here, I know its not that scary. I don’t have to tape anything anywhere, and just because someone is following me with arms full of scarves and Prado purses (don’t tell Eurobella) I know they aren’t going to jump me and steal my American identity and leave me here to beg for money outside of the Colosseum. But during mile 17, I did not feel the same. Not to make a scary story for you all, but I felt like my legs were running ahead of me and running backwards, kind of like they were laughing at my struggle. I felt like my head was not getting any blood running through it. Nothing was getting black, but it was dream-like.

Hello all! I am in Florence now, for a couple of days and then I start the long journey back home. Until then, stay tuned for more miles in my race and here are some pictures of me from the marathon. Go to this website and type in my last name… hopefully you will be able to see them.

www.asiphoto.net

ENJOY!

From Rome, here are the next few miles of my marathon:

mile 13, the halfway point. Things were still looking good, and I felt strong. It has been my tradition in the marathon to sing Bon Jovi’s, “Ohhhh, we’re half way there… OH OH! Living on a prayer…” There is a story about this, and it has since then become somewhat of a superstition in my racing. Superstitions are a big part of my running mentality. Frommy first days when I was a wee runner in high school. They get me through the race, and had I not sang this song through mile 13, who knows if I would have finished.

Mile 14, one mile to go before they hand out power gels (yes, another superstition that I forgot to pack and worried about the whole race), I started to feel a little bit tired. Yeah, 14 miles into a race, and I am tired. Weak sauce. Just kidding. Since I had gotten to Europe, eating was a questionable expereince for me. I won’t go into detail, but I will say that it was difficult to eat without any consequences. Moving on (awkwardly) I wasn’t able to get a good carbo-loaded dinner the night before. As you will learn…. that is critical in the next entries as I move towards the finish of the race.

mile 15 we finally get power gels and I down mine like it had never even entered my mouth. It was gone quicker than an Irishman drinking a Guiness. The rest of mile 15, I regained some strength, and continued on. Little did I know, this was going to be very short lived…. sorry to disappoint so quickly.

or so I thought during miles 10, 11, and 12. In mile 10, there was this little boy cheering for people. As I ran by him, he screamed, “great job all of you. It doesn’t matter what position you finish in, you are all doing great I am so proud of all of you.”

This stuck with me for the remainder of the race, but particularly in these next few miles, they replayed in my head over and over again. As a runner, you sometimes have to step back for a moment. Not literally, because when you run, you run forward to avoid some nasty collisions, but mentally, your mind is moving much faster than your body. Am I keeping my arms relaxed; Am I lifting my knees high enough; I wonder what so and so is doing;etc.

When this little boy screamed these words, I stopped thinking about the steps I was taking, the fatigue I was starting to feel, and I thought about what these steps meant for me. I planned this trip on my own. I got on a plane to enter into a whole new world- away from my parents, from my home, from comfort. I was taking a step in another direction. Miles 10 through 12 were not only aproaching the halfway point and the point where I began to struggle…. they might have been the most powerful miles of the race and of my life. I knew at this point that I was not finishing as the same girl that started this race……

well, we are now contnuing on our journey to Sctoland. It is much more rainy, but just as beautiful. Our adventures haven’t started here yet, but rest asured you will know about them as they happen. As for pictures, I know I promised them but since I am limited to internet cafes and timed access, the picture will have to be shared when I return. I can make a preentation or maybe Dan can make a viral video of the pictures. As for the continuation of the marathon….

mile 7
Mile seven I have caught back up with Oz and we contiue on running through the park. The leaves have changed colours and have begun their descent onto the pavement. the grass is still as green as ever (or as green as your envy) and we are looking around this mile, just taking in the scenery.

mile 8
This mile had the atrocious 50 meter hill in it. For any runners out there, that was sarcastic and yes, I was gloating just then. It was at this hill that I got a sudden surge of energy and started to pick up my pace a little bit. Oz couldn’t quite keep up with me here, so this is where we parted ways, and I continue onto the next 18 miles on my own.

Mile 9
We are bck in the streets of the city, coming into some residential areas. I see hundreds of people cheering on the streets on every corner, and in every pub. I am not running in a big crowd, so many of the cheering crowds are able to spot me out and cheer. I feel like I am kind of a big deal at this point. But that will change.

Mile 4

This mile was the most green. We ran through a park or zoo. the leaves on the trees were falling beautifully and the pavement smelled oof freshly fallen rain. When I looked up, I could see some of the taller buildings sticking out into the sky with the sun shining in the back. There were some clouds blowing in, which gave me comfort to know that it would not be an unbearably hot run.

Mile 5

We were still running through the park, and had finished the last mile in 7 minutes…. I know some people think that I am fast, but in a marathon I should not be going any lower than 8 minutes. I told my running buddy to slow down. This was her first marathon, and she “felt good”; but we all do 5 miles into a race (until we think about the rest of the 21  miles to go). Having already had 2 marathons under my belt (shameless plug- one under 3:30) I knew that we would not be able to hadle this for 21 miles. I got nervous and let her go on ahead. But through the rest of the mile, I kep thinking- Why can’t I? And so…. I reached for my energy beans and munched on a couple. I am not sure if they really gave me the energy, or if it was mental, but I began to speed up a little.

Mile 6

Trying to keep from being discouraged, I scout out Oz (running partner) and start to “reel her in” is how we used to say it in High School. I watched her getting closer, and suddenly I felt like we could maybe do this together- superstars from America. Still running through the park, I catch up to Oz and we continue running in the green foresty area of the park. As a runner, it is moments like this that you appreciate. When you can look around, take in the site, and see it one step at a time. Whether I was taking a breath of the fresh air or to catch my breath, I took it in as best I could and said- “I am in Dublin.”