I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but when asked by Tuesdays on The Run about my worst race, I decided to go ahead and repost this one. It’s hard for me to say that any of the races have been bad because even when the whole thing has fallen apart, I’ve learned stuff. Enjoy. And please go check out the other great bloggers who participate in Tuesdays on The Run. I love today’s topic!!

Walter likes my medal.

Well, I’m home now, sitting in a very messy family room with tons to do but deciding, instead, to sit in front of the fire with my coffee, my dogs,  and my thoughts so I can process what happened during my 26.2 mile journey on Sunday. I promise a second post reviewing all the practical things and talking about all the amazing fun I had, including hotel and race retreat reviews, but not today. Today is going to be just about the race itself.

I’ve gone back and forth all morning about how transparent to be and at the end of my self-wrangling, I’ve decided to just tell you all of it. It may not always make me look like an amazing athlete and some of you may even judge me for my less than fast self. I’ve decided I’m OK with that because of all the other people who may need to hear the story.

First of all, the good – the weather could not have been better. Just cool enough (low 50’s when we started) and relatively dry (or at least it felt that way to me) until the end when we had some rain. I was further back than I’ve been in past Disney races (as prior to that I was living off a killer 10K time for corral placement that recently expired) so I found myself in “L” which is toward the back (the corrals went through P). I was so grateful that my friend, Beth, was in the same corral! Sara, my roommate and BRF (best running friend:), was in “I” so we had to part ways before the start. She was SUCH an encouragement to me this weekend – running friends just get each other and if you don’t have someone like that, I don’t know how you make it though the training and the races!

L to R: Woody, Sara, Green Army Guy, Beth, Bullseye, Me, Jessie (at the race retreat before the race)

According to my Run Keeper, it was 6:15 when we started. The gun had gone off for Corral A at 5:35ish, so yes, we were standing there a LOOOONG time:). But Beth and I chatted and laughed and prayed, so the time went fast enough.

Once we started, I honestly felt amazing. I kept checking my time as going out too fast has been my downfall in past marathons and for the first several miles I was right on target. I knew there was one big thing that might complicate today greatly. I’m hoping this isn’t too much for some of you, but I am a 44 year old peri-menopausal woman and if you don’t know this already, sometimes women in that place in their lives have serious trouble with their cycles. I was, in fact, scheduled to have surgery but it would have interfered with my training schedule, so I decided to wait. I started my period the day before the race and it was HORRIBLE. One of the worst I’ve had. Did I mention my doctor is urging me to have surgery as soon as possible due to chronic anemia? Yes, that bad. And cramping and pain are part of the package. And it came several days early so I really wasn’t expecting it.

I had to make a pit stop early on and had hoped that would be the only one as everything seemed to be going great. My splits for the first 18 miles were exactly where I wanted them to be.

I was absolutely on target to PR. I knew with my physical condition my pipe dream of 5 or under was most likely gone, but still felt confident at this point that my PR, at least, would happen. My marathon PR is 5:36 and I trained much harder and much more for this one. The most mileage I’ve EVER put in. There was no reason why it wouldn’t be my day.

Then, around mile 18, I could feel things start to fall apart. Between miles 15 and 23, I had 3 additional potty stops and when you’re as far back as I was in the corrals, the lines for the porta potties or the real bathrooms (which I chose) are long. Those stops alone cost me about 15 minutes of total time.

I could feel my goal slipping away from me. And then the cramping and the pain just got to be too much and I just couldn’t run. So I started to walk more and more. And I started to get more and more discouraged. I called Scott in tears and his words were amazing – he reassured me that I HAD put in the training. That what was going on was completely out of my control and that it was not a reflection of my ability as a runner. I told him how pissed off I was about the timing and he didn’t try to “fix”, he just said, “yeah, that’s not fair at all. You worked way too hard to have this happen today.” 

I then did something that changed everything. I posted on my FB wall the following message:

And then the text messages started flooding in.

One after the next. So many that the dings in my ear notifying me of a new one were almost constant. My friends sent bible verses, and amazingly encouraging thoughts and quotes, and pictures of their babies and dogs. Some of them sent over 10 messages! My best friend was worried and didn’t understand what was going on until I texted her just one sentence: “I’m getting a hysterectomy.” Which at least made me laugh at myself.

My friend, Laura, had her Sunday School class pray for me (they happened to be talking about the positive and negative affects of social media when she saw my post – go figure). So many messages that not long after the finish, my phone completely died.

My favorite one came in right after I crossed the finish line from Laura, and when I read it, I totally lost it. It simply said:

“You are a miracle of God. I saw you finished.”

I had one precious friend tell me before she saw my post, she had been overwhelmed with a sense that she needed to pray for me. And so many other amazing words. I am seriously thinking of printing them out and saving them somewhere.

I cried for over a mile. But now I wasn’t crying because I was missing my time goal, I was crying because God was showing me how loved I am. By Him and by so many others who he has placed in my life. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started looking around at all the other runners – many of whom were far worse off than I – and decided to accept the card I had been dealt and just finish with a smile.

The exact moment when I got over myself.

And then I saw Katie. 

She was a total stranger, dressed adorably as Minnie Mouse in the best tutu ever, walking and looking discouraged. We were just passing the Boardwalk area, which is where, during my first marathon, I had an amazing encounter with a coach who got me through to the end despite a horribly painful blister.

I asked her how she was doing and she said, “not good.” She had an injury and a stabbing pain in her foot that wouldn’t go away. Every step was painful. I decided to stay with her. Because my own time goals were gone anyway so why not? Maybe she needed me. And even if she didn’t, being there for someone else would help me get through those last two miles focused on someone other than me me me.

She was awesome. A large animal trainer getting her veterinary degree, she told me she trains hippos for a living. I didn’t know they were possible to train! Did you know they are one of the deadliest animals? They kill more people than sharks every year. She suggested that Discovery Channel should do a “Hippo Week” instead of “Shark Week”. She was young, and fun, and hurting and we laughed and cried and made it to the end. We even ran quite a bit and all of the last half mile or so, crossing the finish line with huge smiles!

I had finished, and I realized that even though it wasn’t the race I’d hoped for or trained for, it was the race I got, and it was good.

Sometimes you read ridiculous things about the marathon. You know, that recreational runners shouldn’t do it and it should go back to being the truly competitive distance it once was. Because evidently us 5 or 6 or 7 hour marathoners aren’t “really” runners. Well, I call total BS on that crap. And anyone who thinks that needs to hang out at the back of the pack for a full marathon.

What you see there is nothing short of heroic. You see cancer survivors and cancer patients, amputees, and 75 year olds, and people with MS, and the guy in front of me who’s shirt said “you’re being beat by a 55 year old quadruple bypass survivor”.

They are the true heroes. If you finished in 3 hours and something, I’m proud of you, too, and you deserve the accolades. You, no doubt, worked really really hard and you are amazing!

But don’t ever disparage those of us who are out there getting it done. You don’t know our lives or how we’ve struggled. My minor set back is nothing compared to some of what I saw.

I’ve pretty much already decided that next year I’m going to run the half and then volunteer for the full at the Walt Disney World Marathon Weekend. Because there may be some more people out there, like me and like Katie, that need an encouraging word. And they might not have 50 plus friends to text them that they are amazing.

And I want to make sure they know that they ARE.

Sara, my BRF

Happiest of running to you all,

Jen